Our home.
Standing in the kitchen, I open one of the cupboards and take out a cup to make myself some coffee. As I close the cupboard and place the cup on the counter, the door suddenly comes loose. Letting out a startled shriek, I try to catch it, and the corner of the door slams into my hand. I cry out from the bite of pain, and then the door falls to the floor, taking the cup with it. Ceramic shards shatter around my bare feet just as Damian rushes into the kitchen.
“Don’t move,” he says, and stalking over to me, he effortlessly picks me up and carries me out of the kitchen. Only when we’re in the living room does he place me back on my feet.
I watch as he walks back into the kitchen to clean up the shattered pieces of the cup. He takes hold of the door and inspecting it, he mutters, “It needs new hinges. Damn thing stripped right off. I’ll get some and then check all the doors.”
Damian places the door on the counter and then walks back to where I’m still standing. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I look down at my right hand. “It slammed into my hand, but I’m okay.”
He takes my hand in both of his and inspects every inch of it. There’s a small blue bruise where the corner hit, and he brushes his thumb lightly over the tender spot before pressing a kiss to it.
My eyebrows lift slightly as my stomach flutters.
Lifting his gaze to mine, our eyes lock, and it only makes the fluttering increase until I slap my hand over my stomach.
Scared of what it might mean, I pull my hand from his. “I’m just going to mop the floor to make sure there are no pieces we’ll accidentally step on.”
Rushing away from Damian and how he makes me feel, I keep myself busy, cleaning the cabin from top to bottom.
Damian got us the necessities, and I’m thankful a washing machine was one of those things. He also put up a washing line in the back where I can hang our clothes to dry.
I usually do the laundry on Sunday mornings. The first few times, I quickly realized there was no underwear for Damian. He goes commando, and the thought only makes me more aware of him as a man.
It’s not Sunday, but I do the laundry, adding the towels, so the machine is full. Then, I keep busy outside, working on the small garden I’m trying to make until it’s time to hang the clothes.
Anything not to face the fact that I’m falling in love with my protector.
After I’m done with everything, I glance over my shoulder at the little piece of ground I’ve managed to clear of weeds when I walk right into Damian. I bounce back. “Sorry.”
“I’m just going to the hardware to get some supplies. Do you need anything?”
You.
The word vibrates through me, and like a deaf-mute, I can only shake my head. The second he leaves, I slap my hand over my mouth.
Oh. My. God.
Yes, Damian’s attractive and any woman’s dream come true… but I’m not ready. It’s only been eight months.
I don’t understand where the attraction is coming from, because how can I want something I fear?
I’m not afraid of Damian, not at all. I’m scared of intimacy. I’ve been ruined when it comes to that part of life. The thought of ever having sex again makes me spiral into a panicked mess.
There’s no way I’m ready to even deal with what was done to me, never mind thinking of ever being intimate with a man again.
I brush a trembling hand through my hair, feeling hot and cold all at once. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I calm my racing heart.
Is it possible because it’s Damian?
I know I’m safe with him, and he’s done nothing but take care of me. He’s attractive and strong, and… perfect.
He’s the kind of man I used to dream about before everything happened.
I understand why I’m falling for him, but having sex? Shaking my head, I head into the house and grab clean clothes from the closet.
I stare at Damian’s clothes next to mine, and then I glance at the bed we share every night.
God. We’re already living like a married couple.
The thought doesn’t send me into a state of horror-stricken panic, and it makes me frown.
When did things change?
Stunned by the revelation, I walk to the bathroom so I can wash the sweat off from all the gardening and cleaning I did.
I shut the bathroom door behind me and begin to strip out of the clothes. The panic I feel when I shut the door has also lessened with time, and now I just feel a twinge.
The corner of my mouth lifts as I realize how much I’ve healed without even noticing. Hope explodes in my chest, and I let out a burst of thankful laughter, my body trembling as positive emotions wash over me.