With a booming, protective rant about what airlines were coming to these days, Stieg steered her into the kitchen and soon had both of them loaded up with bowls of hearty stew and chunks of hot homemade bread slathered in butter, while he went and hung up the coat. It appeared that Stieg was halfway to adopting Lucy as a daughter already. He hadn't even asked any further questions, seeming to sense that she didn't want to talk about it.
Their dad, Eren had to admit, was a pretty good guy, even if he did come on terrifyingly strong at first impression.
Eren kept an eye on Lucy, so he noticed immediately when she started flagging, the day's activities catching up with her all at once. Her eyes were starting to glaze over, and she nodded along to his dad's cheerful running commentary without seeming to hear any of it.
"Do you want me to show you where you'll be sleeping?" Eren asked her.
Lucy jumped and dropped the spoon into her nearly empty bowl. "Yes, please," she said gratefully. "Thank you, Mr. Nilsson. I'm sorry, it's been a long day."
Waving off his dad's clumsy but sincere attempts to apologize, Eren took her to the bedroom that had been Tor's. After Tor had moved in with Bernie, they'd fixed it up as a guest bedroom. Right now Eren was fully appreciating the time and effort they had taken with it, especially since it was Lucy he was getting to show it off to.
The room combined massive, chunky wooden furniture with handmade country touches like quilts and afghans. The four-post bedframe, made of honey-colored wood and strong enough to support a bear, had been handmade by their dad when the boys were teenagers. The quilt pulled over it all but glowed in vivid colors, red and gold and green, evoking thoughts of autumn and cozy snuggling by a flickering hearth. A lamp on the handmade wooden nightstand shed warm golden light over the room, illuminating bookshelves stuffed with well-loved, dog-eared paperbacks.
"Wow," Lucy murmured. She sat on the end of the bed, smoothing a hand over the quilt. She looked exhausted. "Sorry to go down like this. It's just—been an awfully long day."
"Don't worry about it," Eren said. He was suddenly a little ashamed that he'd wanted to show it off to her when all she really needed was a place to sleep. "I'll bring you one of my sister's clean nightgowns, okay? And then you can rest for as long as you need."
"I'm not being rude, am I?" Lucy asked. "Your dad seems very nice—" She interrupted herself with a jaw-cracking yawn. "And, um, very talkative."
"Dad means well, but he's also a lot to deal with on top of being tired. Just get some rest."
"All right," she said, and looked up at him with a look that melted his heart, full of gratitude and relief. She reached out and took his hand. "Eren ... thank you. For everything. I'm so glad I hid on your boat."
"Me too," Eren said.
He was intensely aware of the touch of her soft fingers, and as the moment stretched out, he thought of her lying beneath the quilt on freshly washed sheets. The image was so vivid that he could almost see it, even feel it—her naked curves, wrapped in blankets, with nothing between her and his reaching hands but the darkness of the room ...
Eren hastily got up. "You just—have a good night," he said, putting her hand down, and all but fled the room, closing the door carefully behind him.
He couldn't exactly walk back into the family living room with a raging boner, so he leaned against the door for a moment, getting himself under control.
Was this what it had been like for Tor with Bernie?
He didn't even know if she was his mate. He didn't know what she was running from, or what kind of future they could have together. But his yearning for her was a constant, unbearable ache. She was all he could think about.
Eren tried to tell himself not to lose his heart to this woman. He couldn't stand being broken again—and neither could his bear.
LUCY
Lucy drifted slowlyout of the deepest, most restful sleep that she had enjoyed in a long while. The bed under her was soft as if it had been stuffed with feathers, and her head was buried in a heap of huge, clean-smelling pillows. There was a quilt pulled up to her chin. She was warm and cozy and heavy with sleep, and best of all, she felt entirely safe.
She opened her eyes to sunlight on the beams of a low, wooden ceiling. The comforting, homy sounds of voices, laughter, and clinking plates came from somewhere distant, outside the closed door.
Eren,she thought.I'm at Eren's family's house.
She was so comfortable and content that she lay drifting for a while, enjoying the blissed-out sense of relaxation, before she managed to gather the energy to prop herself on one elbow and look around.
Last night the room had felt like a retreat. A haven. She had never seen anywhere that so thoroughly invited relaxation and rest.
By daylight, now that she was no longer so desperately sleepy, she found herself better able to appreciate the overstuffed bookshelves and the nautical touches on the walls. A fishing net swooped across the lintel above the door, with a pair of antique glass floats dangling from it. There was a seascape painting next to the window, giving her the appealing juxtaposition of a painted ocean, with a painted sailboat on it, beside the real ocean with some small fishing boats bobbing on it.
She wanted to look out the window, so she dragged herself out of bed. She was wearing a long flannel nightgown that brushed her legs, probably the most unstylish sleepwear she had ever worn in her life. It was very comfortable; it felt like being wrapped up in a soft bath towel. Dimly, she recalled Eren bringing it for her, saying that it belonged to his sister.
Lucy had no idea how long she had been asleep or what time it was. For all she knew she had slept through an entire day and into the next one. The long sleep had left her incredibly relaxed, but a little stiff from all her unaccustomed exercise.
Moving cautiously, she limped across the worn floorboards to the window. It was the old-fashioned kind with small panes in a white sash, and it opened by sliding up. Lucy opened it and leaned out.
The house was not merely next to the sea, but right on top of it. She remembered this from last night, in a vague kind of way, but she had been too tired and out of it to really look around, and the darkness had hidden most of it anyway. Now she craned out the window in absolute fascination. Rolling breakers came flowing in from the bay and vanished under the house. When she listened, she could hear the soft, echoing boom of the surf relentlessly expending its energy on the shore beneath her feet.