Until We Fly (Beautifully Broken 4)

His eyes widen and before he can argue, I continue.

“I insist. You can’t cook for yourself, you can’t walk, you can’t drive. You don’t want to talk to your mom and I get that. I wouldn’t speak to my dad, if I could help it. Let me do this. I want to. I owe you. And if I’m here, then I don’t have to see my dad. You’d actually be doing me a favor. Plus, I promised the nurse that I’d keep you off your leg.”

I want to be here with you.

My eyes must tell him that. He stares into them, studying me, dissecting me. I feel like he’s looking into me, figuring out all the broken parts.

But I’m studying him, too. And I see that while he’s big and strong and brave, there’s something in him that is hurting. I just don’t know what it is yet. He’s an enigma. And I can’t wait to figure him out.

Finally, he nods slowly.

“If you really want to.”

“I do,” I tell him firmly, and my heart takes off like helicopter blades. “And when someone else comes, your girlfriend, or whatever, I’ll just go back home. Easy-breezy.”

Yes, it’s a pathetic and blatant fishing attempt on my part.

Brand doesn’t bite.

He eyes me and starts to say something, but then doesn’t.

“Don’t expect anyone for a while,” he finally warns, an attempt to tell me that I might be here for a while, but still vague enough to not reveal anything about him.

That’s fine. Because I’ll be staying in a cottage with my teenage fantasy. Only he’s not a fantasy anymore. And he’s not a teenager. He’s living, breathing, and sexy as hell.

And until he tells me that there’s a girlfriend, I’m going to operate as if there isn’t one.

For the next few weeks, Brand Killien is all mine.

That’s plenty of

time to figure all of his secrets out.

Chapter Four

Brand

From the armchair by the windows, I watch Nora unload her Jaguar. First she brings in a pair of crutches and leans them against my chair. Next she hauls in an overnight bag, then bag after bag of groceries before finally closing her trunk.

I hate sitting here like a helpless idiot while a woman carries in heavy groceries.

Jesus.

I fiddle with the crutches, adjusting them to the right height, before leaning them back against the chair.

Nora comes in and glances at me. “Okay. I didn’t know what you liked, so I just got a variety of stuff. I also got you soda and beer. I took a guess on what kindsd you like.”

I nod. “Anything will be fine. I’m not picky.”

She stares at me sternly. “But you can’t have the beer until you aren’t taking the painkillers anymore.”

I cock an eyebrow at her bossiness. “Yes, m’am.”

Her face is flushed from the heat outside, her red hair coming loose from her chignon. I stare at all the groceries she’d just unpacked, then look back to her.

“Okay, a couple of questions. One, did you leave anything in the store?”

She rolls her eyes.