I don’t have to do this alone.
“Rafe?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Let’s go home.”
His face breaks out into a panty-melting smile, relief flooding his eyes. He loves the way I call it home. Though I shouldn’t, I’m beginning to love it, too.
“Let’s go home,” he echoes.
As soon as we’re home, Rafe leads me to the bathroom and draws a bubble bath. He takes his time undressing me before lifting me into his arms and setting me in the warm water. I try to grasp his arm so he’ll join me, but he just laughs and kisses my forehead.
“Relax, baby,” he orders gently then pushes up from the tub.
He walks across the room and presses play on the wall stereo. I smile as the sounds of “If That’s What It Takes” by Tank fills the bathroom. His soulful crooning coupled with the sweet sincerity of his words is the perfect mood music, and I love that it was Rafe’s choice.
The setting is romantic, and I wonder why we’ve never taken advantage of it before. All I need is some candlelight, a bottle of champagne—or sparkling cider for me—and a very naked Rafe joining me in the bathtub to make this complete.
I slide down in the tub until the bubbles cover my breasts. “Sure you don’t want to join me?” I ask in my best Marilyn Monroe impression. I must not sound as sultry or seductive as I planned, because Rafe laughs and just shakes his head. I splash him in return. “Hey! It wasn’t that bad.”
“Trust me, Brie. I’m not laughing at you,” he says, his voice strained as he looks down.
My gaze is drawn down as well, and apparently, his voice isn’t the only thing strained.
“So far from it. But you need to relax, and you need to eat. So, while I cook, close your eyes, soak away the tension of the day, and when you’re ready, I’ll feed you.”
Before I can protest, he flees. It’s my turn to laugh, because he was two seconds away from joining me. I lean my head back and do as he said. Then I close my eyes, listen to the music, and let my worries melt away.
I’m just about to drift off when “Next Breath” by Tank comes on. The words resonate deep within me, and I wonder what Rafe’s trying to say.
And if, at the end of all of this, any of it will even matter.
“Oh my God,” I moan. “This is amazing. Heavenly, even.”
He smirks as I dig into the lasagna that’s been tantalizing my aromatic senses since I left the bathroom. “Glad you like it.”
“Like it? I love it! Seriously, I knew you could cook, but you’ve been holding out on me.”
We continue to tease back and forth, and I’m surprised at how entirely at ease I am with him, even after everything. Then again, Rafe’s always emanated strength and protection. I’ve felt comfortable and safe with him from the very beginning, and no matter how much Adrian tried to mess with my head and ruin that, I refuse to allow him to do so.
After my belly is full, Rafe leads me to the bedroom and tucks us into bed. He flips the television on, and we cuddle up, getting lost in some old action flick. I curl into his chest, enjoying his close proximity. One night sleeping without him was more than enough for me to know I never want to experience that again.
It’s not long before I’m yawning, and my eyes keep fluttering closed every time I start to nod off. But before I fall asleep, I lift up and reposition myself so I’m sitting cross-legged and facing him.
“Rafe, I’ve been thinking,” I say, hoping he doesn’t think I’m a complete nut.
He mutes the television and gives me his undivided attention. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as a nervous expression crosses his face.
I laugh lightly and then kiss his lips. “Stop worrying. I’m not running, I promise.”
I nibble on my lip for a moment then dive in. I relay the dream I had with my mother, and he listens with rapt attention. His hand rubs my thigh in soothing circles.
“What do you think it means?”
With a smile, I glance at him through my lashes. “So, you don’t think I’m crazy?”
His eyes soften. “Of course not. Brie, you almost died. I don’t know if it was a dream or some supernatural visit from your mom on the other side. Maybe it was your subconscious trying to help you uncover something. But