Long, blonde hair spilled onto the pillow between us. The curve of Addie’s neck taunted and teased with images of me running my lips along that petal-soft skin. She let out a little moan and arched back into me.
My body reacted, hardening beneath the curve of her backside. I was going to hell. But it would be worth it.
I closed my eyes, trying to get control of myself. I mentally ran through the dosages for medication. The symptoms for chicken pox and strep throat.
I was halfway through one of those lists when I realized that my hand had slipped beneath Addie’s top during the night and curved around her waist. God, her skin felt like heaven. It was more than soft; it emitted a heat that you never wanted to be without.
My fingers stroked over her side of their own volition. My thumb ran over a bump of raised flesh, a scar of some sort. I wanted to trace it with my fingertips, but I forced myself to pull away. As I did, Addie let out a little sound of protest, rolling to her other side. When her head hit the pillow, her eyes flew open.
“Morning,” I said huskily.
She pulled the sheet up to cover her mouth. “Morning.”
I grinned. “Worried about your morning breath?”
She nodded.
“I don’t care about that.”
“I might care.”
I chuckled and pulled the sheet up to cover my mouth. “Fair enough. How’d you sleep?”
Addie twisted the sheet in her fingers as she kept it in place. “Really good. Even better than last night. What about you?” Concern laced her features as she asked.
“Amazing. I don’t think I woke up once.” I wouldn’t share that my body had a mind of its own when it came to Addie. She was fast becoming an addiction. I couldn’t get close enough. And I wanted to know everything about her. From the little details like her favorite color to the big things like all the secrets she held so closely.
“I’m glad.”
I lifted a hand to ghost over her cheek. There was a faint bruise from where Walter had struck her. Thankfully, it was on the opposite cheek of her gash. Otherwise, it might’ve opened the wound. “How are you feeling?”
Addie’s breath hitched as my thumb stroked her skin. “Fine. No pain at all.”
My jaw worked back and forth. I hated that it was a question I even had to ask.
She reached out with one hand and wove her fingers with mine. “Thank you for sharing last night. It means a lot that you trusted me with that.”
“I do trust you.” It shocked the hell out of me to realize that I trusted her more than anyone. There was also a silent question in my words. Did she trust me?
Addie’s gaze fell to my lips, and then she looked away. She wasn’t going to give me the same words in return, but she gave me them in her actions. By giving me pieces of her story. By reaching out as she just had. By sharing this bed with me. I would earn the rest of her trust. I didn’t care how long it took me.
As I pulled into my parking spot at the clinic, my phone rang. I grabbed it from the cupholder and scanned the screen.
“Hey, Holt.”
“Hey, man. Sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you. Been a crazy couple of weeks.”
“No problem. We’re not in any huge rush.” In fact, Addie hadn’t mentioned her mother once since our first conversation about her. She knew Holt was looking into her, but she hadn’t once asked if he’d found anything. I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.
The sound of a door closing came across the line. “Part of why it took so long is that I haven’t found a damn thing.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“It looks like Cecily grew up in the area. Her parents are long gone, and she didn’t have any siblings. She married Allen Kemper when she was young. Barely nineteen.”
“Practically a baby,” I muttered.
“Sometimes, people just find each other earlier in life and know that’s it, but I don’t think that’s the case here.”