Page 78 of In My Heart
“Ye need to know, Cara, no matter what Rafe does or says when we tell him everythin’, I’ll no’ be going anywhere. You were madefer me. I ken that, and I ken there’s no’ a thing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep ye.”
“I’m not letting you go either. I can’t see my future without you in it anymore, and I wouldn’t ever want to.”
He didn’t reply, just turned to me with a resonant smile, and lifted our joined hands to his lips. pressing them briefly to my knuckles.
By the time we reached my room, my anxiousness had dulled to something manageable. The familiar space helped – the soft lighting , illuminating every corner of the room, the vague scent that was all Cal and Arran, from them both sleeping with me the night before, the familiarity of a room I felt safe in - but it was Arran’s presence that really soothed me.
I hovered just inside the doorway, suddenly unsure what to do with myself. I’d just had another minor melt down in front of Arran and I felt so sure that he must be getting fed up with it all. Who wouldn’t?Iwas fed up with it! I longed to just be able to keep it together, but too much had happened, and even as hard as I was trying to take steps forwards, the darkness occasionally found its way in again.
“Okay,” he announced gently, turning to face me. It was obvious he had noticed me wavering. His hands settled on my arms, thumbs brushing slow, grounding circles against my skin. “Yer gonna shower. Warm, not scalding.”
I looked up at him with shock and opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off.
“Ye didnae think we’d realise when yer always coming out of the shower with yer skin almost blisterin’?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrow.
“That’s an exaggeration,” I mumbled. “It helps sometimes. I…after I have certain nightmares or flashbacks, I just….it makes me feel so dirty. My skin crawls. The heat helps,” I tried to explain.
I didn’t add that the shower had to be hot for me to feel even remotely clean, because I was too afraid and damaged to linger for more than a few minutes under the water.
“No more. If ye need help, ye talk to us. Ye don’t burn yer beautiful skin away and harm yerself.”
“I’ll try,” I whispered shakily.
I felt so raw and exposed in that moment as it hit me that I hadn’t really been successfully hiding any of my fucked up from the men I loved.
“That’s a start.” He leaned in and kissed the top of my head. “Let’s get you sorted then, lass. A shower and clean clothes, and ye’ll feel human again in ten minutes.”
“And you?” I asked, looking up at him. He’d trimmed down his beard so it was shorter, and he looked so handsome with his hair tied back, his eyes twinkling.
“I’ll start it fer ye,” he told me, “Then I’ll stay close and make sure yer no’ tempted to turn that water up to lobster boiling temperatures.”
A corner of my mouth lifted half-heartedly, and he reached up to cup my cheek in his hand, smoothing his fingers over my skin there.
“Stop over thinkin’ everything, darlin’.”
“Over thinking is sorta my thing,” I shrugged.
“Ye need a new thing.” He leant in, pressing a brief, reassuring kiss to my temple. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
I watched him disappear into the en-suite, the sound of the shower running a moment later. I tried hard to focus on that, and on what I needed to do in, and after the shower. Anything to stop myself from feeling the ridiculous loss I felt not to have him wrapped around me anymore. My hand felt cold without his fingers intertwined with mine.
I found myself staring at the bathroom door, knowing how pathetic I was, but feeling too raw to stop it. When he came back out, a faint curl of steam followed him, and I had to stop myself with everything in me from running into his arms again.
“All set,” he smiled. “In ye go.”
I nodded and told myself to get in the damned shower and pull myself together. I didn’t do that though.
Instead, I stepped toward him, needing to be closer to him, wanting his touch on me again. It was like my feet carried me to him without my permission. I didn’t even really think about it until I was already there, my hands gripping his shirt, rising onto my toes to press my mouth to his.
He stopped frozen for half a second, surprised maybe, but then his hands came up to my waist, firm and sure. He tilted his head, deepening it just enough to make my pulse jump. He didn’t rush, or press for more than I was giving, but he wasn’t holding back either. I felt his thumb brushing along my side, and then I felt it everywhere. My core clenched and I knew I needed more of him.
I pulled back a fraction, gasping, my breaths uneven.
“Arran…”
“Hmm?” He rested his forehead lightly against mine, but his grip tightened, like he feared I may try to move away.
“I stopped over thinking,” I smiled. “Do you think this could be my new thing?”
