“I’d like to talk to Van. Ronan, as well.”
She blinked. “I can arrange that.”
I held out my hand again, waiting until she took it.
“Thank you.”
Her smile could light the whole city.
“You’re welcome.”
The conversation drifted through my head as I sat in the dark. I still couldn’t explain my lack of anger. Ronan and Van came to the house, and we talked. Agreed on a figure. A timeline. I was shocked when Ronan showed me pictures of what had already been done. He grinned.
“Van and his boys don’t mess around. Our crews are the best in the business.”
I was very calm about it all.
The reason had to be Ava. How could I possibly be mad at her? From the moment I had woken up in the hospital, she had been there. At my side. Caring for me like no one had ever done in my life. She fussed and worried. Her family did the same. Some days, the house felt as if it had a revolving door of people coming and going to check on me. On her. On us. I should hate it, yet I didn’t. It confused me, filled me with a sense of awe. Ava accepted it as normal. It was as abnormal to me as caring for someone. And I realized, I did care for Ava—more than I expected to. More than I wanted to.
And she was the reason I wasn’t asleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Knowing she was down the hall, close, yet not close enough, was keeping me awake.
I needed to see her.
Carefully, I eased off the bed, holding in the moan. Even after many long days of recovery, I shuffled like an old man down the hall. I refused to use the crutch since I didn’t want to disturb Ava. I only wanted to see her.
Except, before I made it to her door, she was there, worried and anxious. “Hunter, what’s wrong?”
The words were out before I could stop them. “You know why I sleep so much in the daytime?”
“Because you’re recovering?”
“Because I know you’re close. You’ll come check on me. Talk to me. I lie in that bed every night, wishing I could see you.”
“Why didn’t you call me? Ring the bell?” she asked quietly. “I would have come to you.”
“I won’t use a bell to call you. I just wanted to look in and see you.”
She shook her head. “Stubborn man.” Taking my hand, she tugged. “Come on.”
She led me back to the room, lifting the covers. I slid in, a groan escaping at the movement. She didn’t say anything but went to the other side of the bed and crawled in, lying beside me but not touching.
“Better?” she asked.
I found her hand, enfolding it in mine. “Almost. Can you come closer?”
She slid over, careful not to press on me. She laid her head on my shoulder and found my hand again, entwining our fingers. “Now?”
I turned my head and breathed her in. “Much better.”
The room was quiet for a moment.
“You know, coming down the hall to look at me is a little stalkerish, Hunter.”
“I need something to fill the time. Stalking seemed easy. We’re both in the house, so I don’t have to go far.”
She chuckled then became serious. “You really can’t sleep because you’re longing for me?”
“Longing for you? That sounds a little old-fashioned.”
“Ah, the heroes in my historical romances often long for their ladies. Pine for them. One of my favorites is Demon Winter in Winter’s Widow. His longing for his ladylove is quite touching.”
The name of the book was familiar, so I had probably read it to her one night. Historical romance. I knew she loved it. All the women in her family did. She loved it when I read them to her, and I had to admit, they were pretty steamy, although some of the heroes made me laugh. Love like that didn’t exist.
“Sorry to kill your buzz, but I’m not longing,” I snorted.
“What would you call it?”
“I’m…horny.”
She burst out laughing. “Horny? If I so much as tried to touch you, you’d scream.”
“I could hold still. Let you do all the work.” I was teasing, having only wanted to change the subject from longing, but it was backfiring on me.
“Hunter, you are never still in bed. Ever. Even when your cock is in my mouth, your hips and pelvis move, your back arches, your legs shift and bend, and your arms are in perpetual motion. Never mind the shivering and shaking.” She tapped the air like a touch pad. “Scream, scream, scream. And not one pleasurable one in the lot.”
She was right, of course, except talking about my dick in her mouth made me harden.
“I really move that much?”
She pressed a light kiss to my shoulder. “You do. It’s incredibly sexy the way you express yourself with your body.”