“You burnt your hand on the pan, didn’t you?” he asks.
“No, what would make you say that?” I set the mugs on the tray next and when I look at my buffet I’ve made, I feel pretty proud of myself. Is it sexy to look at? No, but it will feed us? Absolutely.
“You are mean mugging that pan, Heaven.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not,” I say back, and Grayson rolls his eyes from the childish back and forth. “I win.” I stick out my tongue to really show him who has the upper hand.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I know you are but what am I?” I snicker at my own joke, wishing he had the ability to have steam come out of his ears. Grayson gets annoyed easily, and I love to press his buttons.
“Both of you are a pain in the ass.” Owen strolls in the living room and plops down on the couch. Jolie is right next to him, her pregnant belly sticking out as she waddles. “Come here, baby,” Owen croons at her, holding out his arm to make room right next to his side. She flops down and groans, laying her head on his shoulder. Owen doesn’t miss a beat. He kisses her gently, right on the top of her head and then his hands find her stomach. He keeps his palm there, stroking the swell with his thumb.
He is a happy man, and I’m happy for him.
“You need to be resting,” Owen tells me. “If you get an infection—”
“I’m not going to. Stop momming me. I’m fine. I’m sore, but I’ll live. Heather is here. Heather. She isn’t like every other woman, Owen. She’s the woman. If it means I pop a damn stitch, then I pop it.”
Owen doesn’t like what I have to say, which is fine, I don’t give fuck. He can go fly a damn kite for all I care. His jaw flexes, but he concedes, and finally relaxes on the sofa. His eyes land on the tv and his brows pinch. “Why the fuck is there muffin on the tv?”
I grab the tray and start walking back to the room as fast as I can. “An alien came in and got pissed off at the pan, burnt himself, it was crazy to witness. Then, his little buddies beamed him back up into space.”
Jolie covers her mouth and giggles, knowing that I’m the alien.
“You’re ridiculous,” Owen shouts after me.
“So I’ve heard!” I toss over my shoulder in return. I stroll down the hall, the chandeliers gleaming against the newly polished floor. When I get to the door, I notice it is cracked open and send a silent prayer above because it would have sucked opening the door when I have a full tray in hands. When I kick the door open, I announce my arrival. “Okay, we are good to go. I brought you some food. So kick back, relax, and enjoy the—” I set the tray next to the bed and stop speaking when I notice her eyes shut.
Shit! I had one damn job. “Heather? Heather! No, you can’t sleep.” I jump on the bed and shake her shoulders, then think better of it. What if he did that to her? I stroke my fingers down her cheek instead. “Hey baby, come on, wake up. You’re freaking me out. Owen said no sleeping for twelve hours.” I continue rubbing my thumb against the apples of her cheeks, watching her lashes flutter like butterfly wings. They are long and thick, a rich brown that makes her green eyes a neon green. “There you are. I’m going to go get Owen to make sure you’re okay. Please, don’t fall asleep, okay?”
She nods, then yawns and a cute little squeak leaves her.
Ugh! Damn it, I
want to kiss her right now so bad, but I know I can’t. I kiss her forehead then run toward the door. “Owen! She fell asleep!” I yell and two seconds later pounding steps hurry down the hallway.
He wastes no time busting through the room in a panic. Heather is sitting up in bed, staring at us as if we have lost our damn minds. Maybe I have, but after everything that’s happened to her, to me, I’m going to make damn sure she is safe.
We deserve our chance, and I won’t let life fuck it up for us anymore.
“I told you not to fall asleep,” Owen scolds, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“It was comfy and warm. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry,” she says, staring at her hands. Heather twists her hands together.
“It’s okay, don’t do it again. It’s important you stay awake. It’s good you’re talking. There isn’t damage as I can see since your pupils are reactive and you aren’t stuttering. Do not fall asleep, Heather. Your life depends on it, okay?”
“Okay,” she nods, and her hair falls on the side of her face, hiding herself behind the silk curtain. I want to run my fingers through her hair and tuck the locks behind her ear, then trace her delicate jaw with my index finger until I get to her lips.
Then—
“Don’t let her fall asleep, Heaven. That’s your job.” Owen slaps my shoulder as he leaves the room, ruining my damn daydream of what her lips would feel like against mine.
“You got it,” I say, snapping my thumbs together right before my palms slap.