puff. Then she gave herself a second one just to be sure. The mist coated her mouth, and she closed her eyes to concentrate on her breathing, trying to calm herself.
Rhett pulled her back to his chest and wrapped his arms around her ribs as if willing her to breathe.
It took five minutes for her to stabilize. By then, her head was buzzing, and the deep inner roar of tears was rushing up her throat. She shook her head. No, she would not cry.
This had happened before with him since his return, but never this bad.
He didn’t say anything as he held her, his caress as gentle as if he were holding a newborn kitten. The Christmas lights cast a white glow in the den, the only sound her exaggerated breathing. She concentrated on taking another inhale. And then another. Somehow, with his arms around her, she recovered faster, became stronger.
She didn’t want to think about what that meant.
Leaning against him made her want to be enveloped in his body heat, his comfort.
She became aware of his cologne, the one she’d bought for him. Narciso Rodriguez Limited Edition. His breath on the back of her neck was what she noticed next—warm and sweet. Moving out of his arms seemed the best approach, and he didn’t fight her, although his hands tightened for a second before letting go.
“I’m sorry,” he said, edging away from her and shoving his hands in his jean pockets. “Can I get you anything? What can I do?”
Nothing . The problem resided in her, and it was so bad it could steal even her breath away.
She shook her head. “I’m just going to…”
The bathroom seemed to be the safest spot to gather her emotions. When she was in better command of herself, she reemerged to find him pacing in front of the Christmas tree, ruffling his ash–blond hair. He froze when he saw her.
“You’re as white as my mama’s bedclothes on the clothesline every Sunday, Abbie,” he said.
She knew she looked like shit. Hadn’t the mirror told her? Plus, she looked defeated. And all because he’d called her out on the very thing even she couldn’t put her finger on.
The core of her fear.
“Rhett, I’m going to go,” she said in a shaky voice, hating that, hating herself. She walked forward and gathered her things back into her purse.
“Please let me drive you home.” His voice was hoarse, and when she gazed at him, his whole body was wound as tight as wind–up toy soldier.
“No, I can manage,” she responded as coolly as she could.
His hand reached out to her. “I know you can, but what if you have another spell and black out? Please, let me take you. Abbie, please.”
Three pleases from him in less than thirty seconds? “Okay. Mac and Dustin can pick up my car in the morning.”
His fingers stroked her arm before dropping loosely to his side. “Thank you for not fighting me on this.”
“I don’t have the strength right now, Rhett.” And God if the truth didn’t make her look away to hide the tears she felt in her eyes.
“I’ll get your coat.”
Then he came back and dressed her like she was a little kid. After he’d smoothed her hair away from her face and tucked her hat on, he scooped her up in his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he walked out of the room.
“You said you don’t have the strength. Let me do this. It’s little enough.” He snagged his keys from the entryway and shut the front door behind them.
“But your coat. And you didn’t lock the house.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he ground out. “Save your breath.”
And so she did…because deep down a part of her always feared another asthma attack would follow an episode this serious.
Fear.
There was that word again.
He drove slowly. The silence between them seemed eerie in the cold night. Even the quaint glow of Dare did little to raise her spirits.
She was in chaos again.
When he pulled into her driveway, he stopped her from reaching for the door. “Let me come around.”
“I’m fine,” she protested even
Rhett pulled her back to his chest and wrapped his arms around her ribs as if willing her to breathe.
It took five minutes for her to stabilize. By then, her head was buzzing, and the deep inner roar of tears was rushing up her throat. She shook her head. No, she would not cry.
This had happened before with him since his return, but never this bad.
He didn’t say anything as he held her, his caress as gentle as if he were holding a newborn kitten. The Christmas lights cast a white glow in the den, the only sound her exaggerated breathing. She concentrated on taking another inhale. And then another. Somehow, with his arms around her, she recovered faster, became stronger.
She didn’t want to think about what that meant.
Leaning against him made her want to be enveloped in his body heat, his comfort.
She became aware of his cologne, the one she’d bought for him. Narciso Rodriguez Limited Edition. His breath on the back of her neck was what she noticed next—warm and sweet. Moving out of his arms seemed the best approach, and he didn’t fight her, although his hands tightened for a second before letting go.
“I’m sorry,” he said, edging away from her and shoving his hands in his jean pockets. “Can I get you anything? What can I do?”
Nothing . The problem resided in her, and it was so bad it could steal even her breath away.
She shook her head. “I’m just going to…”
The bathroom seemed to be the safest spot to gather her emotions. When she was in better command of herself, she reemerged to find him pacing in front of the Christmas tree, ruffling his ash–blond hair. He froze when he saw her.
“You’re as white as my mama’s bedclothes on the clothesline every Sunday, Abbie,” he said.
She knew she looked like shit. Hadn’t the mirror told her? Plus, she looked defeated. And all because he’d called her out on the very thing even she couldn’t put her finger on.
The core of her fear.
“Rhett, I’m going to go,” she said in a shaky voice, hating that, hating herself. She walked forward and gathered her things back into her purse.
“Please let me drive you home.” His voice was hoarse, and when she gazed at him, his whole body was wound as tight as wind–up toy soldier.
“No, I can manage,” she responded as coolly as she could.
His hand reached out to her. “I know you can, but what if you have another spell and black out? Please, let me take you. Abbie, please.”
Three pleases from him in less than thirty seconds? “Okay. Mac and Dustin can pick up my car in the morning.”
His fingers stroked her arm before dropping loosely to his side. “Thank you for not fighting me on this.”
“I don’t have the strength right now, Rhett.” And God if the truth didn’t make her look away to hide the tears she felt in her eyes.
“I’ll get your coat.”
Then he came back and dressed her like she was a little kid. After he’d smoothed her hair away from her face and tucked her hat on, he scooped her up in his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he walked out of the room.
“You said you don’t have the strength. Let me do this. It’s little enough.” He snagged his keys from the entryway and shut the front door behind them.
“But your coat. And you didn’t lock the house.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he ground out. “Save your breath.”
And so she did…because deep down a part of her always feared another asthma attack would follow an episode this serious.
Fear.
There was that word again.
He drove slowly. The silence between them seemed eerie in the cold night. Even the quaint glow of Dare did little to raise her spirits.
She was in chaos again.
When he pulled into her driveway, he stopped her from reaching for the door. “Let me come around.”
“I’m fine,” she protested even
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