“Look, you left Cedar Ridge for some damn good reasons. I get it. You needed off the mountain. But you left a hole in him, Lily, one he’s never quite closed.”
“My leaving here had nothing to do with him,” she said.
He lifted a hand to stop her from saying anything more, not that she would have. “Like I said, I get it,” he said. “But I also get that you’re only here until something else comes along. For his sake, I hope that’s soon. Because the longer you stay, Lily, the harder it will be on him when you go again.”
She stared at him, so intense, so protective of his older brother, and she missed that bond she’d once had with Ashley like she’d miss a limb if it got cut off. “You’re making a lot of assumptions,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. Just don’t hurt him again, Lily.”
“I don’t intend to.”
Hudson searched her gaze and, not looking relieved in the slightest, he nodded at her and left.
Lily locked up, got another glass of water and a plate of cheese and crackers—look at her playing nurse—and headed back to the bed where she stopped to eyeball her patient.
He was in the exact same position as when they’d left him a few moments ago, flat on his back, arms stretched above his head.
Fast asleep.
Chapter 27
One minute Aidan was dreaming about Lily falling off the mountain the same way Ashley had, and the next he was wide awake. Heart pumping, he looked around. Given the darkness of the room it was the middle of the night. Unsettled, still shaken, he lay on his back in a bed that wasn’t his with a woman who wasn’t his snuggled in at his side. Lily had thrown one of her legs over his, her hand low on his belly.
And damn, in that moment it sure felt like she was his.
He’d been here with her for more than twenty-four hours. He had an arm around her, an arm that was half numb, his hand settled all possessively over her ass.
He really wished he could feel that hand.
Willing the blood back into his extremity, he squeezed experimentally and Lily shifted with a soft sigh.
Then went utterly still. Slowly, she lifted up to look down into his face. “How are you doing?” she asked.
He thought about it. His side ached, but not bad, considering. He owed Hud. “Never better.”
She bit her lower lip. “I’m all over you,” she said. “I’m sorry—”
“I like it.”
She snorted. “You like everything.”
Hard to argue with the truth. “I especially like having you back in Cedar Ridge,” he murmured, watching the emotions his words caused play across her face.
Pleasure. Arousal … and uncertainty. It was hard for him to know she didn’t believe or trust in emotions. Hers.
His.
But he understood. He’d set them back. “Are we okay, Lily?”
She met his gaze, her own uncertain.
“Huh,” he said. “I was sure me nearly bleeding out was going to change your mind.”
“I just need some time, I think. Not because of our fight, just because of me. I’m not used to this. To … being an us.”
He could understand that. He was surrounded by family who drove him crazy and lived to torment him, but they’d lay their lives down for him.
Lily didn’t have any of that and hadn’t for a long time. He did his best to be quiet, to just feel the relief that she was no longer pushing him away. That she was trying in the only way she knew how.
“I like being back,” she finally said softly. “I like being in this world again.”
“It’s your world too.”
She shrugged, and he lifted her chin to look into her eyes. There was no way to go back and comfort the devastated, grief-stricken girl she’d been. But he had the grown woman right here in his arms. “You belong here as much as anyone.”
He could tell that made her feel good but was also far too serious for her, because she changed the subject. “I still can’t believe Hudson stitched you up like that. Let me see your chest.”
Her holier-than-thou tone had him flipping her beneath him on the bed. “You’ve been the boss of me for going on two days now,” he said, making himself at home between her legs. “My turn.”
She stared up at his mouth like she wanted it on hers. He intended to oblige her. “Doesn’t seem quite fair,” she said, “since you’ve been a pretty big dud.”
He felt his brows rise. “A big dud?”
“And a bad patient,” she said.
Her hands were trapped between them. He entwined their fingers and slid her arms up over her head, holding them there while he lowered his body over hers and met her gaze. She was looking a little apprehensive and a whole lot aroused.
It was a good combo, he decided. “So you have complaints.”
“Well,” she said, hedging, clearly fighting a smile. “It’d be rude of me to insult your manhood when you’re down.”
He nudged his hips into hers, and he could tell by the way her breath caught that she could feel he wasn’t down at all, but up. Very, very up.
“Consider me corrected,” she whispered.
He kissed her neck, nudging the strap of her cami from her shoulder.