Some of my sass left me as I remembered his apology.
“That he didn’t mean for Ethan to die. He was lying, though. I told him we were coming and that I would kill him.”
“All right. I’ll let you two rest. Stay inside for the rest of the night.” Grey left, quietly closing the door behind him.
I turned to Carlos.
“Yep, we’re grounded.”
Carlos wasn’t amused. At least, I didn’t think so.
“Come on, big guy. Let’s go to bed. I’m beat.”
Grinning at my pun, I held the bag of ice to my face and walked back to the bedroom.
Seventeen
Several times during the night, a cool cloth pressed against my cheek as I lay in the circle of Carlos’ arms. Each time, his care brought a drowsy smile to my lips before I drifted back to sleep.
In the morning, I woke alone and stretched slowly. My face hurt, but it was nothing new and nothing to cry about. I’d been hit hard plenty of times in my life. And each incident was my own fault. This time was no different. I shouldn’t have played quite so hard to get.
“Good morning, Isabelle.”
I looked over at the bedroom doorway. Carlos stood there, dressed for the day in his pressed pants and pastel polo shirt. His hair was neatly combed, and he looked freshly shaven. The sight of him made me feel light and happy, and not just because he was holding a plate of food.
“Good morning.”
Patting the bed beside me, I pushed myself up into a sitting position. He joined me and handed over the plate. Scrambled eggs and hash browns.
“I’m so glad you can cook,” I said, loading my fork. “I suck at it, and TV dinners like to go straight to my butt.”
He didn’t say anything. I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth as I eyed him. I took my time studying his features, trying to guess at his mood since I couldn’t feel anything, as usual. Something about his eyes seemed almost sad, but the set of his lips was slightly tight.
Four days ago, I would have thought his expression neutral. Now what I was seeing was the barest of changes. That I was really starting to know Carlos warmed my middle.
I set the fork back down.
“What part are you upset about?”
“The part where I took you outside.”
“Really? Because I liked all of it. A lot. Until I got hit in the face. That guy pissed me off.”
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. I took the opportunity to lean forward and kiss his neck.
“Isabelle.” The warning in his voice made me grin.
“Carlos,” I said, using the same tone. “Does this mean you’ll chase me again?”
“No.”
“Not even around the couch?”
His lips twitched, and I grinned.
“Did you almost smile?”
“Almost. Eat your breakfast.”
I took a quick bite, chewed, and swallowed.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you. Chasing me around the couch.”
“I love you, Isabelle.”
My heart stopped then restarted with a different, faster beat.
“I saw you fighting in Ethan’s bar and wanted to kill the man who was trying to hurt you. When I saw Ethan touch you in the field, I wanted to kill him, too. Then, I started seeing you for what you are. A fighter. I’m not okay with that,” he said, touching my bruised face, “and I’m always going to want to protect you. But fighting is part of who you are, and I’ll need to learn to deal with it.”
I swallowed hard as he continued to watch me.
“Wow. Uh, that was a lot.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to cringe. I was screwing this up. He’d just told me he loved me, and I couldn’t say it back because I always hurt the people I loved.
I set my plate aside and pushed back the blankets to get to my knees. He watched me closely.
Swallowing hard, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him. Just a hug. He hugged me in return, smoothing a hand down my back.
“You feel like home,” I whispered, hoping he’d understand.
I turned my head, laying it on his shoulder. We held each other for a long while before I pulled back. As he let me go, he reached up and ran a gentle finger along my cheek.
“How is it feeling today?”
“Better than it should be. Thank you for taking care of me last night.”
“Last night and every night.”
His words made me warm. How could he make me feel everything like he did? Happy being with him, more loved than I ever had in my life, and sad on his behalf because I wasn’t ready to bite him. I held his gaze. Why wasn’t I ready? It was too soon. Too soon since meeting him and too soon since Ethan died. Yet, so much had happened. It didn’t feel too soon. It felt like months. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to bite him.
I looked down at my hands.
“I know what you want,” I said quietly. “That level of commitment seems...” I exhaled heavily and met his gaze. “I still feel like I don’t know you. I need a hint of what you’re feeling sometimes. I feel so blind with you. Everyone else I can read. Not you.”