The Wolf and the Butterfly by Kim Allred

Author:Kim Allred
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, adult, contemporary
Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc

Chapter Twenty-four

Josie

Simon guided me to the couch. I gripped the note in my hand, refusing to release it. My body trembled, more from embarrassment than fear. I didn’t want him to know about Paul, or what a fuck-up I’d been in college when I tried to be an adult without the training wheels.

He fumbled with something in the kitchen. Then his voice mumbled to someone on the phone. He returned with a quilt Mom had made and tucked it around me. He left again, never once attempting to remove the crushed paper still clutched in my hand. When he pressed a mug of chamomile and lavender tea into my hands, I was forced to relinquish the note.

He read it.

A stab of annoyance flicked through me that he hadn’t asked to read it, but considering my catatonic state, I couldn’t blame him. This wasn’t me. I hated that this was me now. I needed Emmie. She’d know what to do, but I couldn’t move. The quilt warmed me, and the smell from the tea broke through the haze.

I glanced at Simon, then wished I hadn’t. His brows creased in what appeared to be both concern and a touch of anger. Whether it was anger at me or the person who’d written the note, I didn’t know. Maybe it was both. He dropped next to me on the couch. Only inches separated us, and for a crazy minute, I wished he’d pull me into an embrace. But our relationship wasn’t like that, regardless of how comforting those muscled arms would have been, even for a brief moment.

His expression changed, and his anger, if that was what it had been, seemed to melt away. He ran a hand through his hair, then stood. Was he leaving? I tried not to panic. I didn’t want to be alone. Maybe he could stay, just until I called Emmie. Then he was next to me, scooting me over, making my wildest dream come true. He squeezed behind me on the couch and fussed with the quilt to make sure it encased me. He rubbed my shoulders, his hands soft and gentle, warm and relaxing.

“Drink your tea.” His voice a whisper.

That was when I noticed the music. Classical. I smiled. He must have been surprised at my eclectic DVD collection, and I wondered if he’d considered putting on one of the operas. I could have used a ride of the Valkyries about now. The tension in my muscles vanished with his ministrations. I fell back against the hardness of his chest and closed my eyes. This was heaven.

I tensed again when I heard the paper in his hand. He immediately rubbed my arm with his free hand. I sipped my tea and focused on the warmth of his fingers as they made small circles on my skin.

“How long has this been going on?” His soft tone couldn’t quite bury the edge below the surface.

I shrugged.

He sighed, and minutes ticked by with nothing but the sound of a cello.

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