‘She’s fine,’ he soothes, tightening his hold of me. ‘I’ve helped her downstairs to the couch and given her breakfast and her medication.’
‘You have? In your underwear?’ Images of Miller waiting on Nan in his boxers are suddenly all I can see. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that. I bet she milked him dry of patience while staring at his buns.
‘Yes.’ He drops a light kiss on the back of my head and inhales deeply, taking in a soothing hit of my hair’s scent. ‘You need rest, too, sweet girl. I came back and found you asleep on the stairs.’
I begin prying myself from his arms but soon give up when his arms lock tighter. ‘Miller, I need to see Nan.’
‘I told you. She’s fine.’ He wrestles with me until he has me where he wants, straddling his kneeling lap. I take immense comfort in him fussing with my hair, and even more when I spot his wayward curl misbehaving, calling for me to give it some attention. I sigh and push it away from his forehead, cocking my head in wonder as I refresh my memory of all of Miller Hart’s beautiful traits. I go over them all – the ones I can see and the ones I can’t. ‘I need you more right now,’ he whispers, making my tracing fingers falter on his naked chest. ‘Thing,’ he demands quietly. ‘Please.’
I seize him in my arms, cocooning him in all of me, my face seeking out the comfort of his neck as he locks his palm on my nape, holding me in place. ‘I’m sorry,’ I mumble pathetically. ‘I’m sorry for being so hateful.’
‘I’ve already forgiven you.’
I let the few building tears trickle silently from my eyes and soak into his neck, remorse crippling me. He’s been nothing but loving, protective, and supportive, to both me and Nan. I’m inexcusable. ‘I love you.’
He pulls me from his chest and takes his time wiping under my eyes. ‘And I love you.’ There’s no code or alternative words or actions. It’s delivered simply. ‘I can’t see you sad, Olivia. Where’s the sass I love so much?’
I smile, thinking he really probably doesn’t mean that. ‘I’ve run out,’ I admit. Too much energy is required to be sassy or spunky or whatever he wants to call it. I feel zapped of life, the only scraps of it I have left reserved to care for Nan and ensure Miller knows how much I love him. Everyone else can go to hell.
‘No, you haven’t. You’ve temporarily lost it, that’s all. We need to relocate it.’ He gives me one of those lovely smiles, lighting my darkness slightly. ‘I need you strong by my side, Olivia.’
My sorrow-soaked mind gives way to guilt. He’s being strong for me. He’s by my side through my own traumatic issues. I need to do the same for him. We’ve still yet to deal with Miller’s problems – my problem, too, because there is only us. But Gracie Taylor has added a whole new dimension to our screwed-up world. And now my late period.
‘I’m here for you,’ I affirm. ‘Always.’
‘I sometimes wonder.’
My guilt multiplies by a million. Pull it together. That’s what I have to do. These problems aren’t going away, and no amount of ignoring them will make them disappear either. ‘I’m here.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me.’
‘I’ll always be grateful for you, Olivia Taylor. Eternally. You know that.’ He takes my hand and kisses my diamond.
‘I know.’
‘Jolly good.’ I’m kissed chastely on my nose, my lips, one cheek, then the other, before he’s pecking his way down my neck. ‘Time for a shower.’
‘Would you do me the honour of joining me?’ I grip his hair in my hands, smiling when he pauses and slowly pulls from my throat.
‘Worship you in that tiny shower?’
I nod, delighted at the playful twinkle springing into his sharp blue eyes.
His lips pout. It’s the most beautiful sight. ‘How long would it take your grandmother to get from the lounge to the kitchen, find her most lethal carving knife, and make it upstairs?’
I grin. ‘Under normal circumstances, a minute flat. Now, I guess a good ten minutes, if at all.’
‘Then we’re good to go.’
I laugh as he scoops me into his arms and starts striding quickly for the door. I so need this. ‘You don’t want to disrespect Nan,’ I remind him.
‘What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.’
I smile, delighted. ‘We have to be quiet.’
‘Noted.’
‘You can’t make me scream your name.’
‘Noted.’
‘We have to listen for Nan.’
‘Noted.’ He virtually breaks down the bathroom door and kicks it closed behind him, defying every noted he’s just noted. I’m placed on my feet, the shower is flipped on, and with a lack of clothes on me and Miller’s yummy tight hips graced only in his yummy tight boxers, it’s a mere second before both of us are naked. ‘In.’ He cocks his head in signal, an element of urgency to his approach. I’m not in the least bit bothered. My desperation is growing with each painful second that he refrains from touching me. I step into the bath, under the hot spray, and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
He’s just staring at me, his eyes journeying slowly up and down my dripping nakedness. But I don’t feel uncomfortable. Instead, I use the time to drink in every perfect piece of him, musing silently, thinking that perhaps he becomes more perfect with each day that passes. His obsessive habits are showing signs of abating, albeit sporadically, or maybe I’ve just become accustomed to things that were so glaringly obvious before. Or maybe we’re meeting somewhere in the middle and neither of us are noticing. Probably because we are so consumed in each other, and when we’re not, we’re tackling obstacles. But I do know one thing for sure. The only thing that’s indisputable.