“How are you feeling?” he finally asks, coming a little closer to the bed.
“I actually feel somewhat better.” I try to sit up, but Clay races over to stop me.
“The medicine makes you feel better. Doesn't mean you’re ready to move.” I look down at his hand resting on my stomach in a gentle hold to make sure I don’t get up. The touch is soft and so unlike the Clay I’ve experienced so far.
He jerks his hand back when he sees me staring at it. He takes one step back and then another until there’s space between us.
“Please don’t leave.” I can’t keep the fear out of my voice. When I’d heard Clay calling my name tonight, I knew everything was going to be okay. I tried to call back to him, but I couldn't get the words out because I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. I’d gotten scared that I’d dreamed it up, and I was stuck out there alone.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He says it in a challenging tone.
“Thank you.” I stare down at my hands, finding it hard to look at him. He's so handsome, but I’ve done enough embarrassing things today.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do for all of this.” I motion around the room. “You saved me.” I can’t help myself, and I turn my head to meet his gaze.
“If you belonged to me, I’d always keep you safe. Always find you.”
My stomach tightens. “If I belonged to you?”
He opens his mouth and then shuts it again. I can tell he’s thinking about how to answer it.
“Yes. You work here, don’t you?”
“Right.” I try to hide the disappointment I feel.
I shouldn't be let down, because I don’t know Clay. The few times we’ve talked he’s always getting mad at me. Then he goes all superhero and saves my life. I caught some of the things he said when he held me tight to him. It felt good hearing those things. Too good, really. It makes me want things I can’t have because I’m promised to someone else.
“Don’t move. I’m going to get you some water.” Before I can tell him I’m fine, he’s already halfway down the hall. When he comes back, he has a tray. I fight a giggle and end up not being able to and my laughter escapes.
“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” he growls, and that only makes me want to laugh harder. He sets the tray down on the bed and I manage to get myself under control.
“I can’t drink that much water.”
“I didn't know how you liked your water. I have bottled, with ice, room temperature, sparkling, and hot. Do people drink hot water?”
This has to be one of the sweetest, most adorable things I’ve ever seen in my life. This giant beast of a cowboy trying his best to take care of me. It also might be the most he’s spoken to me since we’ve met.
“I think people use hot water for tea maybe?”
“Right. Wait, do you want tea instead?”
“No, Clay.” I smile at him. “I’ll take the bottle please.” He picks it up and takes the cap off before he hands it to me. I didn't think I was thirsty until the water hits my lips, and before I know it I've drank it all.
“I’ll get more.” He starts to rise.
“No, I’m fine. Maybe set the ice water on the nightstand here.” He looks like he’s debating it a moment before standing up and doing as I suggested. I bite my lip to keep from smiling as I watch the surly cowboy unsure of anything.
After he gets rid of the tray, he comes back into the room. He grabs the chair in the corner and moves it next to the bed.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize this is your bed.” I start to get up, but I stop when I hear that loud growling sound again. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him maybe he shouldn't hang out with the animals so much because they’re rubbing off on him.
“Don’t move.” Clay sits in the chair and leans back. “I gotta keep an eye on you.”
“I’m fine right now. Why don’t you go clean up?” He’s covered in mud that’s dried to his clothes and skin.
“I’m good.” Of course he is.
I roll my eyes. “No, you’re not good. I got you clean towels in there and fresh clothes put away. Now get up and take a shower.” His eyebrow lifts high as he stares at me for a moment until his mouth pulls into a half smile.
“Don’t fall asleep,” he orders.
“I promise.” He gets up from the chair and grabs some clothes.
Before he goes into the bathroom, I call for him. “Clay. Do you have a phone I can use? I need to check in. I don’t want anyone worrying when I’m fine.”