you in my bed woke me." He yawned, holding her tighter. "Why aren't you sleeping?"
"Too much on my mind, I think." She relaxed in his arms. "So much has happened, I was hoping I could find two minutes to myself to figure everything out or at least understand what I'm supposed to do going forward."
"That's what I'm here for."
She rubbed his hand, where it cupped her upper arm. "I'm used to doing things for myself."
"But you don't need to anymore. I'm here."
"Hm." She stared out the window, a glow peeked over the farthest ridge, promising the sun would rise.
He turned her around and raised her face. "You don't believe me."
It wasn't a question but a realization. She swallowed. It wasn't her intent to hurt him by continuing to strive for her dreams. She couldn't hand things over to him to take care of. While they weren't strangers, they were two people who lived different lives.
It was only a short time ago that Curley decided to honor his relationship with her. He couldn't expect her to jump in blindly. What if he changed his mind and wanted to go back to living apart and not see each other?
"Grandma June and I spent a lot of time before she died talking about how to expand the nursery. Looking back, I believe she knew what I wanted before I did."
"You were young and shared her love of flowers with her."
She nodded, looking at his neck. He was the only man she knew who wore necklaces. Not one or two, but four of them. When she was little, she used to play with the one chain when he carried her. Through the years, he'd added more.
"I'll figure things out. I'm sort of reeling from everything that has happened." She straightened the necklaces. "You never take these off, do you?"
He grunted, not answering her. "I'm going to start a pot of coffee. Want a cup, or are you going back to bed?"
"I'm staying up." She followed him into the kitchen. "I should probably go back home and get a few things done before I have to work tonight."
"I'll take you."
"You don't have to." She eyed him curiously, watching him fill an old-time pot with water and set a full strainer of coffee grounds inside before putting on the top. "You haven't bought a coffee maker?"
"No need. This works fine, and the coffee tastes better." He glanced at her. "What are you going to do with your house?"
"What do you mean?
"You're living here now," he said.
She raised her brows, surprised that he was willing to talk about their arrangement. "I don't know."
"You could sell it. I can get some guys together and clean up the backyard for you. A little grass seed and nobody would know there was a fire." He turned the burner on and faced her. "Use the insurance money and put up a greenhouse or whatever you want here, on the property. Or, you can sock the money away, and I'll pay to have whatever you want built."
She grabbed for the counter, shocked that he'd offer. Without knowing where their relationship was going, she would never give up everything she had to move in with him.
"What do you think?" he asked.
She blinked, not knowing where to start. "I think things are going too fast."
"You've belonged to me for six years. That's not fast."
"You know there's a difference." A heaviness settled on her shoulders, and she leaned against the counter. "Just because we had sex years ago and you claimed me in front of Tarkio, we never had a relationship after that. You were with other women."
He watched the pot on the stove. If she thought too long about him being with the women who hung out at the clubhouse, it would ruin her mood. It was one of the reasons why she was always in a bad mood when he had come around. The worst part of her life revolved around seeing him party at the clubhouse, having a good time, and then turn around and act disgusted when he spotted her.
"I never had sex with the others," he said.
Pain. Straight to the heart.
Disappointed that he would lie, she said, "That's not true."
He looked at her. "I never stuck my dick in anyone's pussy, except yours since the first time you crawled into my bed. Yeah, I got relief from them in other ways, and if we would've had a regular relationship, that wouldn't have happened. Christ, woman, you were seventeen years old."
Her