“I do,” he said firmly.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you, baby,” he told her, like she was the one doing him a favor. Maybe he really did need a distraction. She knew how hard it was on her, sitting by Penny’s bed, watching her deteriorate before her eyes. How much worse was it for him?
“But the daddy stuff, I don’t know. . .” Part of her wanted it desperately. But she held back out of a sense of self-preservation. Opening up to him, letting him in, she’d be vulnerable. She already was, but this would be on a whole other level and she just wasn’t sure she could bear to do it.
“Think about it,” he told her. “No pressure. I don’t want you agreeing to anything that makes you uncomfortable. And right now, you need to concentrate on getting better. Just so you know, my Daddy Dom instincts might kick in sometimes with you. You bring out my protective instinct. You can tell me to rein it in or you can go with it. The power is in your hands until you give it to me. But always remember, it’s a gift. Not something that can be wrested away from you, understand?”
Tears welled at his words. So much had been taken from her over the years. His words were perfect. And she almost agreed then and there but she should stop and think about this.
“I just want to make sure you’re well and taken care of before I return home.”
That felt like a bucket of icy water over her. He wasn’t staying. Of course, he wasn’t. But wasn’t that perfect? She could explore things with him without worrying over the future. Except, what happened when her heart got involved?
“It’s okay, sweet pea. Stop worrying. You don’t have to decide anything right now.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand again. He was so warm. So strong. She bet no one ever got the best of him. Scared him. Intimidated him. How amazing would it be to have his protection all the time?
“We need to have a chat about your health. I did a bit of research while you were asleep. I have more of an idea of what Lupus is now. Both you and the nurse said this is a flare-up. I read that you can go into remission where you have no symptoms, but flare-ups can be triggered by things like stress?”
“Um, yes. Usually my flare-ups are due to stress, too much time in the sun and when I’m rundown or ill.”
“So this happened because of what I did?” His guilt was clear but she couldn’t let him think that.
“No, I mean, I was already stressed with everything with Penny. I haven’t been sleeping well. And with visiting her each day and worrying over her and my future. . .it wasn’t just what happened yesterday.”
He frowned at that. “You’ve been visiting every day?”
Okay. She thought that was an odd thing for him to focus on.
“Yes, of course.”
“How do you get to the hospice? Have you been driving Nan’s car?”
“Ah, no. I take the bus.”
“A bus goes there?” he asked.
“Well, a couple of buses. And a bit of a walk.”
He rubbed his hand down his face. “How long does that take you?”
“About two hours.”
“Each way?” He gaped at her.
“Y-yes.”
“Jesus, baby. And you’ve done that every day?”
“Of course. I had to go see her. She never really had other visitors.”
“Too much to ask the old man to visit,” he said bitterly. “And you have to avoid too much sunlight, right?”
“Yes, normally I’d try to take the earliest bus possible. I always wear a hat and then I’d take the latest bus home that I could.”
“Baby, you’ve got to be exhausted.”
“I rested while I was with her.”