I nod. Swallow. I look up at him because I have to. I’m trapped in the damn bed.
I’m surprised and unnerved to find he looks…worried. Or something different than I’ve seen before. His face is nice, like a nice guy’s face. Those blue devil eyes are gentle as he looks me over.
“I’m not sure if I believe you.”
“Oh, how would you know?” I snap.
“Because your jaw is tight.” He taps his own. “And you look tired, but also tense around your eyebrows.” He rubs his finger over his brows.
“That’s not how to tell.”
“I’ve been watching you since last night.”
“Oh, since last night.” I shut my eyes and turn my face away from him.
“Yes, since last night. And I can tell you need this. Why don’t you want to take it? Are you scared of taking pain pills?”
I look balefully up at him. “I’m scared of you. Being all up in my business. Trying to charm my family, win them over so they’ll love you, and they won’t know you’re the devil. I don’t need to take those hard drugs.” I saw Mama take so many of them in her last days. I don’t want to be all drugged out. “Not when I can get by on Tylenol and Advil.”
I’m surprised when he sits on the edge of my bed. “Juney. Would the devil buy you toilet armrests?” He quirks a brow, and I hate him for being so attractive.
“He might.”
“If he did, what would his evil motive be?”
“Maybe to have them malfunction so I would fall in.”
He grins. It’s a smile I’ve never seen before. It lights his face up so he’s fifty times more hot than he is when he looks all scowly.
“What joy would the devil get from that?”
I shrug. “Delight in other people’s misery.”
His face falls. “You think I would delight in your misery?”
“This from the man who gave me two puppies that I didn’t ask for?” I lift an accusing brow.
His eyes widen. “You want me to take them?”
“Well not now. The kids love those little fluff balls, and I’m partial to them, too. But it’s still your fault.”
He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah…I hate to say it, but you might have called it right.”
I lift my brow again.
“I am an asshole. I know. I just…wasn’t myself lately. Even when I am, sometimes I’m a dick.” He looks so somber, almost uncomfortable with this confession.
I give him a smartass smirk. “The dark arts can be hard to give up.” I flex my toes—a habit, I guess—and pain shoots up my hurt leg.
His eyes widen again, and again, he holds the pill out. He gives me a stern look.
“I’m tired of sleeping,” I whine.
His face gentles. “Sleep is what you need, Gryff.”
I yawn, and then laugh as he says, “See?”
“My brother’s coming,” I say with a warning look toward him as I reach for my water. “Leah says he’s bringing kegs with him, which means he’ll be trailed by his friends. His redneck, lunatic friends. If someone lights my yard on fire, I’m holding you responsible.”
His dark brows rumple, and a crooked smile twists his lips. “Me?” He gestures to himself, and I nod solemnly.
“You’re my proxy.”
I swallow the pill and blink up at him. Burke looks down at me. Nobody breaks the gaze until Leah flounces into the room. Then he steps back, hands in pockets.
“You two need anything?” he asks.
“How are the dogs? Where are the kids?” My voice is hoarse. I swallow, and Leah leans in to press her palm against my cheek.
“Dogs are great,” she supplies. “Your boy here has been walking them and all that good stuff. Pups and big ones. Kids are eating burgers at MH’s before they all come over here.”
“Sensible. Clearly I’m throwing a party.”
“I’ll host for you,” Leah says with a wink.
A few minutes later, she and Burke leave the room together. It takes a minute for the knot that’s in my chest to loosen up. Maybe it never does. I don’t know. Sleep takes me.Chapter 14JuneLeah is a traitor. I need a shower. As my best friend, she should know that, but she’s clearly got her mind on other things. When I wake up—still early enough that there’s dim sunlight bleeding through my bedroom curtains—I lie quietly in bed and listen to the house.
I listen to the voices, ticking off attendees to my broken ankle party one by one, and then I wait for Leah. When she doesn’t pop in—and no one else does, either—I shoot her a text.
Can u come in my room? I’m a beached June…
Fifteen minutes later, I hop out of bed onto my good foot and grab for a crutch. I’ve got it and am wobbling toward the other one—a little farther toward the bed’s footboard—when the bedroom door opens and Burke steps inside.