Chapter 19

“Are you sure you’re okay taking care of her?” Delaney asked as she stared at her dozing sister in the passenger seat of Eli’s truck. “She can stay with me and Sam, but her upcoming hangover will not appreciate Nolan’s six a.m. wake-up call.”

Eli nodded. “I took care of two hell-raising younger brothers when they hit their teens.” He glanced over his shoulder at Beth’s head propped against the window, then back at Delaney. “This is nothing compared to the shit they pulled.” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. Ash—the youngest Murphy—was still pulling it. But he was beyond the reach of Eli and Boone’s help now. Beth, for the time being, was still here.

“I got her all cleaned up in the bathroom,” she assured him. “Even found one of those disposable minty toothbrush things in my bag along with some diaper wipes and a linty pacifier. Promise she only used one on her teeth.”

He laughed. “Thanks for the disturbing visual of the other two possibilities.”

She grabbed his hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “Thank you, Eli. Not just for tonight but for everything you’ve done this past month—helping me get her out of Vegas, giving her a place to stay, and apparently her very own horse to ride.” She smiled innocently. “And for taking a look at Gladys next week when you make your rounds at the rescue.”

His brow furrowed. “Who’s Gladys?”

Delaney let go of his hand and started backing away. “She’s an Alpine we took in the other day.” She took another step back. “She’s maybe, possibly, definitely pregnant and due any day now.”

Eli’s eyes widened, and Delaney grimaced.

“Thanks in advance! You’re the best!” Then she spun on her heel and ran.

Eli’s hands instinctively dropped to his groin as he swore under his breath.

Grumbling about a lack of incisors still being able to cause a pretty painful pinch, he made his way back to the driver’s side of the truck and climbed inside beside Beth.

She snored softly on her next exhale, and Eli forgot about his newfound fear of pregnant goats and was immediately transported back four weeks ago to the stranger in the car next to him, one moment chewing him out and the next letting him see her—voluntarily or not—at her most vulnerable.

You couldn’t hide behind bravado or false confidence in your sleep. Any walls built up during waking hours came crashing down. No matter how hard you tried, bits and pieces of truth were bound to slip. The effort was exhausting, and Eli was so damned tired.

He started up the truck and shifted into drive.

Beth stirred. “I’m sorry I ruined the night,” she murmured as he pulled onto the street. She hummed a sweet sigh, and her head rolled back against the window. She was out again.

Eli exhaled. He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“Not possible,” he whispered. “Couldn’t even if you tried.”

Of course, the second part was a lie. She’d ruin him. She didn’t need to try. It was a simple, inevitable fact. He knew that now.

Her hand still rested in his when he rolled to a stop in between the clinic and guesthouse. His gaze volleyed from one building to the other, mimicking the back-and-forth of the competing thoughts in his head.

In the end, he never made a conscious decision. He didn’t even realize where he was going until he got there, Beth’s hands unclasping from around his neck as he laid her gently on his bed.

Sweat beaded her brow, so he helped her out of her sweater and then tugged her boots off her feet.

“It hurts,” she whimpered, but her eyes were still closed.

“Your ankle?” he asked.

“Everything,” she sighed. Her head slumped to the side.

Eli lowered her skirt so she was only in her tank top, underwear, and socks.

His chest tightened.

She was so beautiful, so mighty, so—

“Shit,” he hissed, then gently removed the sock from her left foot, and she whimpered again but never opened her eyes.

The swelling was minor enough not to be an emergency but significant enough to prove she’d overdone it, all on his watch.

The rational part of Eli’s brain told him that Beth was her own person who knew her limits and made her own decisions. But he was there when they rode to the clearing. He was there when she proclaimed that every new song on Boone’s playlist was her favorite, which meant she and Casey and Delaney had to dance.

But the smile on her face when she rode Midnight like a pro or let the music fill her from head to foot? It obliterated all logic.

He clenched his jaw as he propped her foot on a pillow, his fingers brushing over the raised scar running up from her heel. Thirty seconds later, he was already back from the kitchen with two instant cold packs from his first aid kit, a tumbler of water, and a banana.

He set the water and banana on the bedside table for when she woke up, then sat on the edge of the bed next to her.

“My turn,” he whispered, cradling her head and lifting it just enough to place the first pack behind her neck.

He was back on the first day they met again, lying dizzy in the dark exam room as she placed cold compresses on his forehead and neck. He was so sure Midnight’s resemblance to Fury would be his undoing, yet today he’d ridden beside the very same mare, not once even thinking about the latter.

“What have you done, Mighty Dancer?” he teased. He lifted the pillow with her ankle to his lap, then wrapped the second pack around her soft, swollen skin.

She sighed, a sweet smile spreading across her lips. Her eyes fluttered open.

“This was the best birthday ever,” she whispered groggily.

Eli quirked a brow. “You sure about that?”

Beth’s eyes fell shut again. She pressed a palm to her forehead and shook her head.

“It might be the worst too,” she croaked. “I’m never drinking again.”

He laughed. “Everyone says that.”

“Yeah, but I mean it,” she insisted. “I never, ever, ever want to feel like this again.”

Everyone said that too, but he decided not to argue.

“Or let you see me like this again,” she added.

He brushed a hand over her thigh. “I’d take seeing you like this over not seeing you at all any day.”

She exhaled softly.

“Except for one part,” she continued, struggling to open her eyes once more. “There’s one part I want to feel again.”

His pulse quickened. “Which part, Mighty?”

“Loved.” Beth yawned, and she began to doze again. “I think this is the birthday where I felt the most loved.”

He bent over and pressed his lips to her forehead, the words escaping before he had a chance to hide them away.

“You were,” he said softly. “You are.”

“Me too,” she murmured, and then she was out like a light, leaving Eli in the wake of an admission she’d certainly forget by morning.

Eli could feel someone staring at him. He didn’t believe in any sort of sixth sense, and science chalked the phenomenon up to confirmation bias. But still, he felt someone’s gaze on him. He had to blink a few times when he opened his eyes in order to adjust to the sunlight streaming in from the bedroom window. And when he did, he found himself caught in the terrifying, beady-eyed stare of a white hen.

“Jesus!” he hissed, bolting up onto his elbow. “What the—”

“Shhh,” someone whispered behind him. “We’re playing chicken…for lack of a better term. No way I’m losing this staring contest.”

Lucy, the supposed psychic chicken, had somehow made it outside the coop and straight to Eli’s window.

Had Jenna come by to collect some eggs and somehow let Lucy escape? Had he forgotten to lock up the coop after his most recent visit with the chicks? His property was fenced in for this exact purpose, but still, he’d have to touch base with Jenna later that morning to make sure he shouldn’t be worried about anyone wandering the property who shouldn’t be.

For now, he decided to roll over to face the person he thought was the reason for his nonexistent sixth sense.

“Hey!” Beth exclaimed. “You broke her concentration.”

Eli glanced over his shoulder to see Lucy strutting away back toward the coop.

“Doesn’t that mean you won?” he asked, bringing his attention back to the woman in his bed.

She beamed. “You’re right! I won!” She craned her neck to look over Eli’s shoulder. “Take that, Henzilla!”

She brought her attention back to Eli, and he quirked a brow.

“Henzilla?” he asked.

She gave him a one-shoulder shrug. “If the name fits.” Beth’s cheeks suddenly went crimson, and she pulled the bedsheet up over her nose. “I’m in your bed.”

He nodded. “I’m in my bed.”

“Correction,” she continued, “I’m in your home.”

He was well aware of this fact too.

“Why?” she added. “You’ve never so much as offered me a peek inside. Now I’m in your bed having a staring contest with a chicken. And this?” She reached behind her and produced the sticky note he’d left on the bedside table. “Eat and drink as soon as you wake up,” she read. “I did it. I ate the banana and drank the water, and I feel almost human again. Thank you, Dr. Murphy.”

He smiled. “I promised your sister I’d take care of you. Seemed easier to do it here rather than at your place.” His rational brain provided the simple, matter-of-fact answer. But he was stalling.

Even with half her face covered, he could see her expression fall.

“Oh…” She deflated. “Because Delaney asked you. I was pretty awful last night, huh?”

Eli shook his head. “No.” He blew out a breath. “That was my safe answer. And you know what? I’ve been playing it safe for years, and what the hell has it gotten me?”

Last night, he acted without thinking, without talking himself into or out of a decision. But the truth was the simplest answer of all.

“I just wanted to,” he admitted. “I wanted to fall asleep with you next to me and wake up with you in the exact same place. I didn’t do it for Delaney. I did it for me.” His eyes widened at the realization. “Huh. Guess that makes me a selfish asshole. Who knew?”

She laughed, finally letting the sheet fall so he could see her smile in all its glory.

“I like selfish Eli,” she told him, then rumpled his hair. “Especially with bedhead.”

“And morning breath?” He could definitely use a good brushing right about now.

Her hand flew over her mouth. “Oh my god!” she cried through her fingers. “And I…I got sick last night.”

He tugged at her wrist, but she wouldn’t budge. “Delaney cleaned you up in the bathroom at the tavern.”

“Fine, but I just ate a banana and washed it down with lukewarm water. That can’t be a pleasant addition to whatever is going on behind my lips. I should go. I need to go.” Beth kicked off the bedding and flew to her feet, only to wince. She glanced down, and her eyes grew wide, then she plopped back onto the bed, not facing Eli. “I messed up. I’m supposed to continue with physical therapy and building my strength slowly, and I messed up.”

He rubbed her back. “It’s okay,” he told her. “It’s common in overuse after an injury. It’s Sunday. You don’t have anywhere you need to be, so stay off it for today, keep it elevated and ice it on and off throughout the day, and you’ll be good as new tomorrow.”

Her shoulders sagged. “Two months, Eli. I haven’t been me for two months, and now I’m right back where I started.”

He climbed out of bed and padded into the bathroom. He splashed some water on his face and brushed his teeth. Then he grabbed an item off the counter, another from under the sink, and hid them behind his back. He headed back into the bedroom, rounding the corner to her side of the bed.

“Lie back down,” he told her. “Doctor’s orders.”

She stared back at him with glassy green eyes, and he had to fight to keep his smile in place, to make her believe everything would be okay. She fixed the pillows behind her so she could sit up, but she didn’t fight him on his request.

He sat on the edge of the bed next to her, dropping the items on the mattress behind her. She instinctively shrank back, her hand flying over her mouth again.

“No kissing!” she cried. “You got to brush your teeth. I didn’t.”

Eli sighed. “I wasn’t going to kiss you.”

She dropped her hands. “Oh.”

He bit back a grin. “Don’t get me wrong. I want to kiss you. But it seems like you have some rules when it comes to kissing in the morning, so I brought you this.” He produced item number one, and Beth’s eyes lit up.

“Mouthwash!” She grabbed the bottle and hugged it to her chest. “This is the best morning-after-a-drunk-birthday gift I’ve ever received!”

He raised his brows. “Wasn’t that your first drunk birthday?”

She nodded. “And last.”

She excitedly opened the bottle and took a swig right from it, which was what Eli hoped she would do. He just figured she might ask first. He should know by now to expect only the unexpected from this woman who surprised him at every turn yet claimed to hate surprises herself.

Beth happily swished the blue liquid and even tossed her head back for a quick gargle. But when she straightened, she stared at him wide-eyed. She then looked down at the open bottle, to her left and also her right.

Finally understanding, Eli reached over her shoulder and grabbed the empty water glass from her nightstand and handed it to her.

Her shoulders relaxed, and she spat the now foamy blue liquid into the glass.

“Oh my god,” she began with a happy sigh. “Now I feel human again.” She glanced down at the contents of the glass in her hand. “But…ew. That’s pretty gross.”

Without comment, Eli took the glass and deposited it back where it had been.

Beth straightened, then closed her eyes and puckered her soft, pink lips.

Eli felt a stirring of movement in his boxer briefs, but he couldn’t give her the satisfaction just yet.

“Not yet,” he teased.

She opened her eyes, and her pucker morphed into a pout.

He found the pillow he’d used to prop her foot the night before kicked to the end of the bed. He grabbed it and gently elevated the swollen ankle again. Then he produced item number two, his bathroom first aid kit.

“You know,” she told him, “for someone who works primarily with animals, you’re awfully good at taking care of humans.”

A month ago, his inner monologue would have warred with her, claiming he didn’t know the first thing about taking care of anyone when it truly mattered. But aside from his recollection of that contrary voice in his head, it didn’t speak to him now.

“This is where you say thank you,” she stage-whispered.

Eli laughed. “Sorry. Lost in my head for a second.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

From the first aid kit, he pulled another instant cold pack and placed it beneath her ankle on the pillow.

“Hey…” Beth said. “I found one of those on the bed next to my head this morning.” She pointed to her right. “And there’s another one on the floor.” Her eyes softened when she looked at him again. She grabbed his pillow and hugged it to her chest. “Wow. You really did take care of me last night. I’m so sorry I ruined your surprise and about…” She trailed off for a moment before continuing. “I would have been out there sooner and been a lot less inebriated if I hadn’t downed that fourth pint like it was water.”

His brow furrowed. “A fourth?”

Beth groaned and buried her chin and part of her mouth behind the pillow. “I asked you to dance, and you didn’t want to, and speaking of getting lost in your head? Mine went right to the explanation. I mean obviously that song was special to you for reasons, and I should probably be more sensitive to stuff like that, but as far as I know I’ve never dated a guy who has been through what you’ve been through, and I’ve never cared enough about anyone else to even ask. But I care about you, Eli. And I’m sorry if—”

“I can’t dance,” Eli interrupted.

For several seconds, she just stared at him.

“Wait…what? How? Why? I don’t—you’ve got moves.”

He laughed, then scrubbed a hand over his unshaved jaw. “Tess was…” He sighed. “Tess liked what she liked and did what she did. She didn’t care about first dances or a big wedding…or an even bigger white dress.” He shrugged. “So we did a small gathering at the tavern with immediate family and a few friends, some pizza, and plenty of beer. I suspect her insistence there not be anything even resembling a dance floor at the party was her wedding gift to me, but she denied it. Claimed it was because her dad had a bad hip, and she didn’t want him to feel left out.”

Beth smiled, but the expression didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Sounds like she really loved you.”

He nodded. “But it also means we didn’t have a first dance or any sort of special song.” He slid closer to her, and this time she didn’t flinch. “But next time, maybe before assuming the worst and pounding an entire pint, you can just ask?”

His chest ached, no longer at the fear of forgetting who Tess was but at Beth thinking she had any less effect on him simply because she hadn’t been the one in his life first.

“Really?” She lowered the pillow.

“Really.” He gave the pillow a soft tug, and she relinquished it willingly, which he took as an invitation to move even closer, close enough to slide his fingers into her hair and cradle her head in his palm.

She nodded slowly. “Do you miss her?”

He nodded right back. “We always miss the people we lose. It’s the beautiful, shitty part of being human.”

“You’re so evolved,” she said softly, no hint of teasing in her tone.

“I guess I am,” he realized out loud. When had it happened, this evolution? No one notified him. There was no certificate sent in the mail. But somewhere in the past three years—or maybe only as recently as the past month—he’d learned that he could love, lose, heal, and start over. Huh. Who knew?

“You’re like a full-grown adult,” Beth added. “And I’m still this kid with stars in her eyes chasing a dream that doesn’t seem to want to be caught.”

He leaned in and kissed her softly. “You just took a detour,” he whispered. Eli was her detour. He knew this. Yet right here, with Beth in his bed looking at him with those glassy green eyes, he dared to hope that maybe, someday, her road might lead back to him. But for now, she was here, and he wouldn’t squander the time they had.

“A detour,” she repeated. “Like I got on the wrong train or something, but eventually it’ll take me where I need to be, right?” She kissed him back.

“Exactly,” he replied. “And for the record, you ruined nothing last night. Except maybe that trash can on First Street.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. “You’ve seen me at my worst, and you still want to kiss me.” It wasn’t a question but a realization.

Eli dipped his head so his mouth was a breath away from her ear.

“I want to kiss you always,” he whispered.

She shivered.

Eli shivered too.

A current arced between them, and when their lips touched again, he knew there was no way he and Beth were leaving the house today, let alone this room.

“Happy birthday,” he told her. “In case you don’t remember me saying it last night.”

“It was,” she replied. “I mean it is. Happy. This birthday is very happy.”