Love From The Wreckage by Colt Shyla

Author:Colt, Shyla [Colt, Shyla]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Hot Ink Press
Published: 2015-06-09T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Phira laid back on the couch with a wet washcloth over her eyes. The painful headache had dulled to a tolerable pounding. Yet, she continued to feel like she’d been hit by a semi and dragged a few feet down the road for good measure. Today had been the hardest since she first woke in the hospital. The coffins lowered and covered with dirt were a finality that echoed in her head and her heart. No more pretending that she would wake up and find this reality was a fucked up dream. Tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes. She marveled at her body’s ability to continue to produce the saline drops. Surely, she’d depleted her stores.

“Phira? Can I get you anything?”

Logan’s voice cut through her sadness, a lighthouse to guide her in the dense fog. Without him, she would never have made it this far. “No, the headache’s almost gone.”

He sat on the edge beside her. The couch dipped.

They’d come together to do what needed to be done. It opened up a new line of communication and closeness. Stuck on bed rest, she depended on him for damn near everything. It frustrated the hell out of her. She wasn’t the type to rely on anyone, but this was for the baby. Pride went out the window. She removed the cloth from her eyes, relieved when the light didn’t assault her retinas like sharpened knives.

“The tension around your eyes is gone.” He massaged her temples.

She sighed. Pregnancy hormones routed stress straight to her head. His fingers were magical medicine she would never refuse. The calloused pads made her ache for affection of an entirely different kind. “You’re too good to me.”

“If this is all you need to be happy, I married the right woman, for sure.”

His amusement made her smile. Anything she could do to chase away the constant pain shining in his eyes bared repeating.

She placed her hands over his, stopping him. “How are you?”

He glanced away and sighed. “Held together by stubbornness, energy drinks, and an all consuming numbness that’s fading faster than I’d like.”

The truth in his words floored her. Things had begun to shift between them at a rapid pace. “I’m sorry.” She squeezed his hand and lowered her hands to her lap.

“Me too.” He sighed.

“Is there anything I can do?” She studied his weary face.

“You’re here, and in your own way, you lost a sister who’s always been there for you. You get it.”

The words made her cringe.

“You okay?” Instantly alert, he leaned forward, obliterating her personal space with his maleness.

At his male scent, she cursed her hyper awareness of her sexuality. Worst time ever to hit that, ‘want it all the time’, stage I’ve been warned about.

“I just—I miss her. I miss them.” She shook her head.

He nodded. “I know, but you have to calm down. I don’t want you to wind up in the hospital again. At least here, we have each other.”

“God, you shouldn’t even be comforting me right now.

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