“Here, lean on me.” I wrap my arm around her so she can keep the weight off that ankle and shimmy out of the pants, leaving them in a sodden pile on the mat. Then comes her panties. I force myself to take a deep breath and think of something stupid. SpongeBob SquarePants comes to mind as I scoop one arm beneath her legs and lift her to set her into the tub.
“Thanks,” she mutters as I slowly release her and straighten up.
“You’re welcome.” My voice is rough, and I know it’s because of the effect she’s having on me. She always has that effect on me. Right now it’s just been magnified about ten times. Go figure. “Do you have what you need?”
“Yeah.” She begins splashing the water over her body, trying to get warm. “I think if you look in my second dresser drawer, you’ll find a pair of your sweats and a t-shirt you gave me.
I frown, trying to remember giving her those, but I don’t, not that it matters. I’m sure I did. It’s not like I wouldn’t have given her everything I had.
I look at the blood still oozing from her forehead, and I douse a washcloth with some peroxide and dab the wound. She flinches. “Hurt?”
“Not so bad, she whispers. “It’s just kind of cold and fizzy.”
I pull the rag back, not liking the way there’s a lot of blood there, and as quickly as I draw it back, there’s more seeping out. “Yeah, well, you’re still bleeding, and if we can’t get that stopped, we’re going to have to go to the ER.” I nod to the rag. “Hold that while I take a good look at your ankle.”
Her hand creeps up, and her fingers touch mine as she takes my place at holding the rag. Once I’m sure she’s got it, I turn and look at her ankle. Even from a distance, the swelling strikes me. If it’s just a sprain, it doesn’t look good. “I’m thinking maybe we should check out your ankle, too.”
“I’d rather try some ice on it first once I get out of the tub.” She shakes her head. “You worry too much, Devin.”
I trace my fingers down her ankle, trying to figure out if I’m missing something. Only an x-ray would be able to tell me for sure. I look up and smirk. “This, coming from you? You’re an accident waiting to happen, Skye. One of us has to worry.”
Convinced I can’t tell anything by touch, I slowly rise. That’s when I figure I can finally tend to my own needs. Water drips from my hair, and I’m finally aware of being too cold and wet for my own comfort, so I pull the shirt over my head. It’s a battle, sure, considering how the rain has plastered it against my chest, and once I’m done struggling out of it and the wet fabric lies in a pile on the rug, I look up and find Skye staring at me with a curious expression I’ve never seen on her face before. It’s out of place, and it strikes me, but I can’t exactly put my finger on what it hints at.
“What are you staring at?” I finally ask, raking my fingers through my hair.
“You,” she whispers, and turns off the bathwater. The tub is almost full, and I can tell by the way she lies back and closes her eyes she’s content.
“Okay, that’s a given. Why?” I grab a towel from the cabinet.
“I don’t know.”
Another non-committal answer. Skye is famous for those. I towel off. Figuring I’m probably not going to get an answer, I thumb toward the door. “I’m going to go find those clean clothes, and I’ll be back. You stay put.”
“All right.” I head out the door and down the hall to Skye’s room. Even after all these years, I pause at the doorway. Skye’s moved all the furniture around, but that doesn’t stop me from staring at the bed and remembering. Nothing stops that.
I stiffen and slip across the threshold, heading for the dresser. I open the second drawer, and just like Skye said, I find a pair of navy blue sweats and a white t-shirt. I squint again and try to think back to when I might have given them to her, but I honestly don’t remember. Yet she has them. I look deeper in the drawer and realize this is where she keeps her nightgowns.
Skye sleeps in these?
Another piece falls into place. Perhaps it really wasn’t about her going off to college to make sure of what she wanted. Perhaps she knew even when we separated to go to different universities she had feelings for me, and she was trying to give me time to make up my own mind, not realizing I had already made it up.
All because she didn’t feel she was worthy of my love?
I grit my teeth and wonder how the hell I can convince her she’s all I want, and that no matter what we all fall short of whom we want to be? There has to be a way.
Unsure what else to do, I close the drawer, strip off the rest of the clothes, and put on the dry outfit before running my fingers through my hair, trying to pat it into place.
I amble back down the hall and into the bathroom, where Skye remains in the tub. Judging from the sweat beading just above her top lip and the flush on her cheeks, she’s not only managed to get warm, she’s probably ready to get out.
“You warm now?” I ask, bending and taking the hand towel from her so I can look at her forehead. A little sigh of relief escapes me when I realize the bleeding has finally stopped. Now we just have to hope nothing’s broken. Otherwise I’m going to have a massive battle with Skye about going to the emergency room—never mind that it’s still raining and the last thing I want to do is drag either of us out into that mess.
“Yeah,” She agrees, looking up at me. “I’m ready to get out.”
“Okay.” I reach down, pull out the plug from the tub, and wait for the water to run down the drain. Once the tub is empty, Skye sits up and reaches out for me. I gently lift her out and set her on the counter so I can hand her a dry towel.
“Thanks.” She takes it and begins drying her body. Once she’s wiped away most of the water, she wraps the towel around her midsection. “Could you take me to my room?”
“Of course.” I lift her again and walk down the hallway towards her bedroom, where I set her on the bed. “I’ll get you some clothes.
Trying to keep my mind off her body, I turn toward the dresser, but before I can move, she latches onto my hand. “Come back,” she whispers and gently tugs me toward her.
“Skye,” I say. But that’s all I get in before she pulls me to her and kisses me with an urgency I hadn’t expected. That’s when I realize what the look in her eyes was before, in the bathroom, when she was watching me so closely. Desire.
We kiss, and the nearness of her takes my breath away. I stop for a moment and look into her eyes. “Skye, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Her lips curve into a smile. “But I do want to.” She wraps her hand around the back of my neck, pulling me to her once again.
We lie on the bed, our bodies entwined along with the sheet tangled around us. I’m lying on my back, and Skye’s on her side, her head resting below my chin while her fingers toy with the shell necklace she made for me years ago. Considering both of us are sweating, it’s hard to believe that just a few minutes ago we were freezing. Funny how that works.
Tilting my head, I kiss her forehead and rub my hand gently down her arm. “How are you?”
“Much better. At least I’m not cold.”
“That’s a good thing.” I glance over at the clock. It’s only ten, but somehow it feels much later, probably because of everything that’s happened. Talk about a rocky start to things.
Outside, it sounds as though the rain has finally tapered off, and while the wind is still a little rough, smacking tree branches against each other, it’s nowhere nearly as violent as it was.
“Skye,” I whisper.
“Mmmm?” That’s her tired voice, and probably in a few minutes she’ll drift away to a place where I hope happy dreams find her.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.” I can barely hear her, but the words are clear enough. I’ve been waiting for them forever, and it’s been so worth it. I give her one more kiss and slowly but gently detangle my body from hers. Scooting to the edge of the bed, I prepare to rise.
“Where are yo
u going,” she asks. A yawn attacks her, making me laugh.
“Well, considering we don’t know when your mom is going to be back, I should probably go find the couch, and you should probably put some sweats and a t-shirt on. I know she likes me, but I don’t think she’d want to find us like this.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Once again, I know I’m right. When I have a daughter, I’m going to have a shotgun.”
At the sound of my words, Skye kind of freezes, and she averts her gaze. Suddenly she’s more awake than I expected, and I know I’ve said something wrong. For a moment, I can’t begin to fathom what it might be, but then I know it’s the part about having a daughter. Skye’s not worried about the gun. It’s the mention of kids that’s set her off—and particularly the thought of a kid she’ll never be able to hold.
“I’m sorry I said that,” I manage. “I just meant I’d want to protect her from jerks. That’s all.”
“You’re not a jerk, Devin.” She licks her lips as though trying to calm herself. “And I know what you meant. Wherever my thoughts went, it’s not your fault; It’s mine. I’ll put some clothes on.”
I fumble into the sweats “You know I didn’t say that to hurt you; I would never do that.”
“I know.” She’s looking down, and I feel myself falling back behind the wall.
I finish dressing and slip downstairs, where I lie on the couch and wait for Helen and Warren. Occasionally I hear Skye moving around upstairs, and I’m hoping she’s not on her weak ankle, but I can tell she needs some time alone. Besides, if she needs me, she always knows where to find me.
Chapter Fifteen
“Devin?”
I feel someone jostling my shoulder, and I blink into wakefulness, expecting to find Skye. Instead, Warren leans over me, his expression haggard, with dark circles under his eyes and stubble lining his jaw. His white button-down shirt is rumpled from long hours waiting for his flight, and for once he doesn’t look completely put-together.
“Morning,” I say peering toward the window where bright sunlight spills into the room, casting odd shapes on the carpet. It looks bright out there, nothing like yesterday.
“There’re a few large branches across the driveway in front of your Jeep,” Warren says as he eases into a recliner and leans back. “Must have been one really crazy storm.”
“It was,” I assure him. “That’s part of why I stayed—that and the aftermath of Skye’s father.”
Warren frowns. “What?”
“He came over to talk to her, and it upset her. She took off right before the storm hit. By the time I found her, she was hiding at the cemetery, and a branch had fallen across her legs so she couldn’t get up. She also had a nasty gash on her head. I didn’t want to leave her like that, so I just camped out on the couch.” Okay, so it’s not exactly the truth as it happened, but it’s close enough. Sometimes the truth is just too complicated.
“Is she all right?” Helen asks as she slips into the room, two cups of coffee in hand. She gives one to Warren and sits on the couch next to me.
“She’s calmer. Still mad as hell at her dad, but he’s definitely got that coming.”
“Did you?” Warren asks, nodding at me. I know what he’s getting at, but Helen has no clue.
“Did he what?”
I shrug. “I was going to, but every time I try, things seem to get crazy and something sets her off.”
“What are you talking about?” Helen looks from me to Warren and back as she searches for answers.
I look at Warren, wondering if I should tell her, and when he gives an almost imperceptible nod, I finally turn to her. “I’ve been trying to propose to Skye ever since we both finished college. It just always seems that something gets in the way—something I can’t prepare for.”
“Oh, Devin.” She immediately sets down the coffee cup and wraps her arms around me. “I would love to have you as my son.”
I grin, hug her back, and shake my head. “I’d love that, too, but there’s one small factor that has to be considered. I haven’t proposed yet, and Skye might actually say no.”
Helen nods. “Yeah, I know. She might not say ‘yes’ the first time, but she loves you, Devin. You can’t give up.”
“I don’t intend to, but sometimes Skye can be pretty stubborn.” I rise from the couch. “Speaking of Skye, I should probably check on her. Last night, I was pretty sure all she had was a gash on her head and a nasty sprain, but I want to make sure.”
“Thank you for taking care of things,” Warren says as I walk past.
“You’re welcome.” I stretch, head toward the stairs, and trudge up them, suddenly aware of all the kinks in my body left by the unforgiving couch I just slept on. Granted, it looks comfortable, but in this case, looks are deceiving. My back is killing me.
As I reach Skye’s door, I find it open. Peering inside, I see Skye is already out of bed, so I knock on the molding and wait, thinking she’s probably in her closet, looking for something to wear.
“Skye?”
No answer. Frowning, I wonder where she might be. It’s not like she really needs to be walking around on that ankle. It looked bad enough yesterday.
I trudge down the hall, heading for the bathroom. As I raise my hand to knock, I hear Skye cough and vomit. My hand falters, and I wait, unsure what to do. The vomiting seems to go on forever, and I wait until I hear the sound of the toilet flushing before knocking on the door.
“Skye? You okay?”
A pause. I know she doesn’t want to answer, but I’m worried, so I knock even louder. “Skye?”
“I’ll be right out.” Her voice is uneven and painful. Sensing that’s about all I’m going to get until she comes out, I step back and lean against the wall, waiting as I fold my arms across my chest.
The door swings wide, and she hobbles out, and each time she puts pressure on the ankle, she winces and nearly falls. Her eyes slowly meet mine, and her face is kind of splotchy, almost like she’s been crying.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay off that ankle?” I ask, rushing toward her, putting my arm around her and scooping her into my arms despite the way she’s trying so hard to protest.
“You can’t be everywhere, Devin, and I needed to go to the bathroom.”
“You could have yelled,” I argue. “I would have come up.” I look down at her ankle and cringe at the swelling. I can only imagine how it must feel. In the morning light, her legs look worse from all the scratches. While the branch did no serious harm, there are angry gouges in the flesh. I turn my attention to her forehead, where nasty bruising discolors her skin.
“Devin, I’m a big girl. There are some things I need to do for myself.”
“Fine. I’ll get you a pair of crutches to keep you off your ankle. You’re damned lucky nothing is broken.”
I ease her onto the bed and run my fingers over the ankle again, searching for any new signs of distress. Yet I don’t feel anything going on to lead me to believe it’s broken. I turn my attention to her forehead. Yeah, the bruise is nasty, but it’s not nearly as bad as it could have been. If that massive branch had fallen directly on top of her, she might’ve died.
“Come on, Gimpy. Your mom and Warren are home. Let’s go get some breakfast.” I turn and squat so she can get on my back. “Then we’ll go to Walgreens and get you a pair of crutches.”
“Oh, all right,” she mutters. She’s already changed out of her pajamas, so all she needs is a pair of flip flops that I will grab on the way out. I feel her slide her arms around my neck to hold on as she slings her injured leg up first and then the other one so I can carry her downstairs.
Both Warren and Helen await us at the foot of the stairs, and when they see that instead of Skye walking I’m carrying her, they both frown. “I didn’t think the injury was that bad,” Helen murmurs.
Then they both get a look at the swelling. “Oh, my. Are you sure it’s not broken?” Helen’s voice is rising in panic as she follows us.
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“I don’t think so. She can walk on it, but it’s painful, and I don’t want it to get any worse.” I deposit Skye into one of the chairs at the dining room table and turn to face Helen. “I told her after breakfast I’d drive her to Walgreens so we could get a pair of crutches.”
“I’ll cook some eggs,” Helen says, immediately going for a pan.
“No, Mom. I’m not really hungry.” Skye frowns and looks down.
I kneel in front of her, sensing something is wrong. I may not be able to see it, but I sense the whitecaps in the water. “You’ve got to eat something, Skye. You sounded like your stomach was upset this morning.” I reach out to touch her head. “Is your head bothering you?”
For some reason, the color leaves her cheeks, and she pushes my hand away. “I’m fine, Devin. Stop hovering.” She turns to Helen. “I’ll take a bowl of cereal.”
While Helen busies herself with getting Skye’s breakfast, I sit at the table next to her while Warren goes to the refrigerator and gets a glass of orange juice before settling in the chair next to Skye.
Although I’m expecting Helen to give Skye a bowl of cereal, she also brings me one and sets it on the table with a spoon. “That should take both of you.” She leans against the table and yawns. “I’m pretty tired. Warren and I have been up all night, so I think I’m going to lie down and get some rest. Otherwise, this headache might just blossom into a migraine.” She gives Skye a pointed look. “Will you be all right?”
“Fine, Mom. I’ll be fine with Devin.” Instead of looking at either Helen or me, Skye focuses on her cereal, and I can tell by her unhappy expression she really doesn’t want to eat.
Helen, unsure, looks at me, and I nod to tell her I’ve got it covered. Finally, she slips out of the room and heads toward her bedroom.
“I think I’m going to go, too,” Warren calls, following. “Just yell if you need anything.”