Soul Weaver (17 page)

“She looks better already.” Neve sounded relieved. “Are you staying with her awhile?”

“I’d like to.” Though he didn’t need Neve’s permission, he asked, “Do you mind?”

“It’s not my place to say. You make that call.” She exhaled. “Look, I can’t leave the store unattended. Let me finish up with the customers we have, and I’ll lock up for the rest of the day. Can you hang around that long?”

“It’s no problem.” Neve would have to drag him out if she wanted him to leave.

“All right.” She turned to go. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Take your time.” There was that word again,
time
. They had so little of it.

He didn’t bother watching Neve go. There were more pressing matters on his mind. Bent over Chloe’s couch while he watched her sleep, he couldn’t help experiencing a moment of déjà vu. He had been foolish to think Saul wouldn’t become curious as to his whereabouts. The danger to her now was greater than it had ever been. He groaned through a spike of exhaustion.
“I should leave.”

“No.”
Chloe stirred, cuddled against his thighs.
“Stay.”

His resistance crumbled with every sleepy stroke of her thumb over his shin. Her loose limbs dangled as he lifted her and settled on the couch, situating her across his lap. Tucking her close, he whispered placations in the language of his creation. Rusty from disuse, the melodic words came hard to his tongue.

While her even breathing signaled her descent into deeper sleep, he indulged his need for reassurance by inhaling the sweet scent of her apple shampoo, then tracing her features with his fingertip.

Beautiful and gentle, Chloe was stronger than she realized. She was his
meira
, his light, and he would kill anyone who dared attempt to extinguish her brilliance.

Chloe woke to a throbbing ache in the back of her head. She groaned, shifted her weight, and felt something too soft to be floor and too hard to be couch beneath her. Her eyes opened and bright sunlight sent shafts of pain stabbing through her temples.

“Ouch.” She blinked up at Nathaniel, who didn’t look happy. She pasted on an I-feel-perfectly-normal smile from reflex. “What’s with me and your lap, huh? I mean, it’s comfy, but I do own chairs.”

The worry lines on his face relaxed and his grip loosened, but not by much.

“I was worried about you,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Her voice trembled. “Oh, I’m fine.” She was home. She was safe. And whatever creature she had imagined lounged beneath her elm tree was just that—her imagination. The shaking moved into her hands. “I should get up.”
Quick.
“I need something to drink.” In case this new manifestation of her nightmare man paid her another visit. Wings, really? They only made him more terrifying.

Refusing to let her budge, Nathaniel grabbed a water bottle from the side table at his elbow and handed it over. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” The cold bottle was sweaty from the warm room. “I should probably still sit up.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t want to choke.” She patted her pocket.
“Or let you see me lick a crushed pill from my fingertips.”

His eyes darkened in an unnerving way. His jaw set and instead of helping her out of his lap gracefully, he sat her upright like she weighed no more than a child. One of his large palms spanned her lower back and kept her balanced on the width of his thigh. An air of expectancy surrounded him, but he couldn’t know how much she needed him to look the other way.

She dropped hints the best way she knew how, but he didn’t pick them up. Being around him made it all too easy to sink back into his warmth. Let him stroke her back and press hot lips to her forehead.

Fear of reliance pushed her from his lap. “I could use something to eat.” Her fingers worried the crescent shape on the outside of her pant leg until it drew his notice. “I didn’t get much lunch down me before…” She winced. “Well, I’m hungry anyway. I saw you had company. That plate probably wasn’t enough to fill up two guys your size. How about I make some sandwiches?”

“Are you sure you feel up to it?”

Her head was killing her, but she had to get a pill down her throat before she had another episode. “Oh, I’m fine.” She headed for the kitchen.

His voice trailed behind her. “You said that already.”

“Well, you keep asking me the same question.” Desperation made her snappish. “So, I figure you must want the same answer.”

“In that case, I apologize.” The corner of his lips hitched to one side. “I really was worried about you. I didn’t know if the heat, or something else, might have caused you to black out.”

The way he said “something else” made her bristle. Unsure how he could know, but equally certain he did, Chloe experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “You sound like you think it was more than the heat.”

He found a sudden interest in the tasseled fringes of her couch pillow. “I used the restroom while you were sleeping.” His hand fell into his lap and still he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I thought you might want something for a headache when you woke up, so I opened your medicine cabinet.”

She winced. “And found a pharmacy.”

His cheeks creased in a smile as he rose. “Something like that.”

Somehow she ended up in the kitchen with a tie in one hand and bread slices in the other. The counter bit into her stomach and her knees bumped the lower cabinets. She was as far away from Nathaniel as she could get without climbing in the sink and crawling down the drain.

Heat encased her back from shoulder to hip as he crowded her with his large body. His chin rested atop her head. His arms wound around her, trapping hers against the countertop.

“I’d like to know more about you,” he said, “in case something like this happens again.”

Complete truth wasn’t an option. The last thing a sane man wanted to cozy up to was a crazy woman. But he did seem concerned, so a brief explanation might do the trick.

“I have these episodes.” Her nails poked holes through the soft bread. He took the ruined slices from her, covering her hands with his. Protected by a wall of Nathaniel, she pushed her trust further. “They’re, um, panic attacks?”

“What triggers them?” His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “So I’ll know what to look out for.”

Low and deep, his voice drew the words right out of her.

“I was in an accident last year.” Heated breath fanned the column of her throat. She swallowed hard. “And when I see things that remind me of… Well, it triggers an attack.”

“So there’s something on your porch that bothers you?” Moist lips trailed down the back of her neck.

She tilted her head and was rewarded with a string of kisses across her jaw. He mumbled something against her skin. “What did you say?”

“You wouldn’t come outside to inspect the porch.” He nipped her chin. “I wondered if something about it bothered you.”

“The porch is fine.” It was the world surrounding it that made her twitchy. “Can we discuss the price of lumber or the going rate on nails?”

His cheek came to rest against hers. He supported her as she leaned against him, made her feel his acceptance clear to her soul.

“I’m here if you ever want to talk. No matter what you have to say, I won’t judge you.” Lower, she heard him say,
“I don’t have the right.”

She worried he did have rights to her, too many for comfort.

Chapter Sixteen

Mindful of her wishes, for now, Nathaniel rubbed Chloe’s arms and changed the topic. “Your air conditioner hasn’t kicked off since I got here. It feels like it’s blowing hot air.”

“I’m not surprised.” She stepped away long enough to gather supplies for their sandwiches. “The upstairs unit is pretty much shot.”

“The store runs on a different circuit?” Several of the older, larger buildings worked that way.

“Mmm-hmm.” She sliced into a tomato and layered the thin circles between pale turkey slices. “My parents moved here right after they got married. The apartment was leased separately from the space below while my grandparents owned the place, so all of the utilities were divided. Even after my parents took over the business and moved in, they never changed things over.” “Anyway,” she carried on, “I had the downstairs unit serviced a couple of years ago. I opted to wait and purchase new units once I’d saved up some more money.” She shrugged. “I just never got around to doing it.”

And now she paid the price for it. “You could have mentioned it to me.”

“We negotiated for a porch, not a renovation.” She frowned into the jar as she scraped mayonnaise dregs from the bottom. “It would have been unfair to take advantage of you just because you’re here.”

“I know my way around most units.” He ought to, since he helped Bran with the compound’s maintenance often enough. “It wouldn’t take but a minute for me to find out if I can patch them until you make the service call.”

“It’s not that hot.” She laughed. “I’ll turn on a fan or something.”

“Where are the units? Out back?”

“Yes.” She shook her butter knife in his direction. “And you are not to touch them unless we come to some kind of understanding.”

He understood perfectly. She was uncomfortable, so he was going to fix the problem. “All right.” He tore his gaze from the window and its view of the back alley. “I can respect that.” He just wouldn’t abide by it.

She popped strips of bacon into the microwave. “I’ll call and see if I can’t get someone out here Monday morning. I’d rather wait out the weekend than pay for a padded service call.” Her lips moved in time with the countdown and earned him a blush for noticing. “Why don’t you sit down while I finish these up?”

Following her orders, he sat in one of the two chairs crowding a small table in the breakfast nook. Sun glinted off the window and made him glance away. Through the glass, he saw the elm’s dusky green leaves and the picnic table’s edge, which explained how she had glimpsed Saul.

“Here you go.” Chloe plunked down a white plate with raised seashells ringing the outer lip. A glass of sweet tea in a matched glass came next.

He took a bite, watching to make sure she did the same. “It’s very good.”

“I can manage a halfway-decent sandwich.” She wrinkled her nose. “I just prefer not to.”

“Well, I appreciate your efforts.” He smiled where she couldn’t see it, then indulged his curiosity. “You’ll be closing up shop in a few hours. Do you have any plans for the weekend?”

She pried a tomato from her sandwich and nibbled it. “Not really.” Her smile almost hid behind it. “Neve asked me to sponsor a literacy booth to run at the fair the week after next.” She set her sandwich down. “So we’re going to hang out maybe tonight or tomorrow and stuff goodie bags.”

“That sounds nice.” Bonding was good. The more Neve turned to Chloe for companionship, the safer her soul became. “I hope you both enjoy yourselves.”

“How about you? You’re off until Monday.” Her dark eyes held an undetermined emotion. “Got any plans?”

“I’m visiting Bran.” He would spend the rest of his time with her, if she let him. “If you’re not too busy tomorrow, I can pick you up for a lunch date. Off the clock.” Uncertain whether the porch was a trigger for her or not, and assuming the table was out, he added, “We could dine in at that barbeque joint up the street.”

Her face lit up and lips parted on what he thought would be acceptance. “I’m sorry.” She started picking the crust from her sandwich instead. Shame thickened her voice. “I can’t.”

Corresponding shame radiated through him. Whatever her problem was, he was the root of it. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

She hid her hands under the table, making him wonder if she was toying with her pocket again and exactly how many of those pills she kept there.

“I didn’t agree to the relationship thing, okay?” Her voice rose. “I told you something I
never
tell anyone. Why can’t that be enough for you?”

“I want to know you.” His tone lowered. “I want to understand you.”

Her eyes shone with anger. “You don’t have to understand anything about me to collect a paycheck.”

“It’s not like that and you know it.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” She shoved from the table and started pacing. “Men like you don’t show up and sweep women like me off their feet. It’s not real. It doesn’t happen.”

“It must happen.” He stood and followed in her tracks. “Because I’m here now and you’re the reason.” He flinched at the double edge to his truth. “Look, I care about you. If I can stop another day like today from happening, I’d want the chance to do it. That’s all.”

“Why do you care?” Brushing past, she snatched her plate and tossed it into the sink. “Why are you here, right now? Really?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

“Did you want a job? Need the money?” She braced her hands on either side of the sink with her back facing him. “Expect me to roll over easy? What?”

He stopped by the table, grabbed his plate and cup, and then set them on the counter. She refused to face him, and he was man enough to admit the slight hurt. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and turned to leave.

At the doorway, he stopped. “I care because you make my world a brighter place.” His voice roughened. “I wanted to spend time with you. I thought we could both feel normal, feel something, for a little while.”

Then Nathaniel left her apartment, snatching Bran’s gift on his way out of the store.

The rim of the sink pressed cool and damp against Chloe’s forehead. She swallowed convulsively and tried not to lose what lunch she managed to eat before her showdown with Nathaniel.

His words cut her to the quick because he was right. She wanted normal and he gave that to her. More than that, he made her happy.

Her insecurities had built a neat bridge between her and the rest of the world a long time ago. It boggled her mind that a man like him seemed determined to be the one who crossed it. Much to her surprise, he was making good time, if she didn’t run him off first.

She turned her head when a light hand touched her shoulder. “You okay?” Neve asked.

“I’m fine.” Or she would be. “I think Nathaniel was right. I got too hot.”