Fucking shoes.It was in me to argue, to stomp outside barefoot and to hell with the damp ground, but the doctor had warned me that my immune system would be weaker while my spleen was healing, and I didn’t fancy a brush with pneumonia.
I found a random pair of boots by the door and stamped into them. “Happy?”
“Nearly.” Harry unzipped his hoodie and passed it to me. “Put this on and you’ll do.”
The hoodie was warm and smelled even more of him than the sweatpants I was already wearing. It was too big as well, obviously, but I wrapped it around myself anyway and put my hand on the door handle.
Harry’s was already there. I closed my fingers around his before I truly knew what I was doing, but it felt like something I’d done a thousand times over. Like the spark from the contact shooting through my arm would one day be ordinary. “I need to check the horses.”
“I know.”
But Harry didn’t move, and neither did I. The hallway was so dark I could hardly see his face, but his eyes seemed to gleam in the dim light, and for the millionth time, I tried to recall what my life had been like before him. How my chest had felt without the flutter that seemed to keep my heart beating.
Pulse skipping, I licked my lips. He was going to kiss me like he had before—kiss me, and leave me, and nothing would change. I wanted more than a kiss, more than his hands on my face, on my hips, holding me upright.
I wanted him to kiss me and mean it.
So I kissed him first.
Chapter Thirteen
Harry
For the longest time, I’d fought to control how other people made me feel, but I stood no chance with Joe. He stormed through my hard-won defences and stole my breath away, kissing me like he didn’t have the remnants of the worst bruise I’d ever seen staining his torso.
I gasped in a breath, letting him briefly dominate me before instinct took over and I lifted him clean off his feet, pressing him carefully against the wall behind him. He’d lost weight in recent days, but the lean, coiled planes of his body were still intoxicating as the kiss went on and on until he shuddered in my arms.
Reluctantly, I eased him down and broke away with a nervous laugh. “How did that happen?”
Joe shrugged, his expression guarded. “I’m not complaining.”
Neither was I. But getting physical with him hadn’t been my intention when I’d come to the door. The heat between us could wait. Joe’s beloved horses couldn’t. “Let’s go for a walk,” I whispered. “I heard Mani call out a while ago. I think he’s waiting for you.”
Joe’s eyes stopped flashing. He let go of my hand and opened the door. It crossed my mind to let him go alone, but the thought of not being nearby if he needed help made me nauseous.
We stepped out into the night. Joe walked slowly and I matched his pace, my hands itching to steady him. But I kept them to myself as we reached the tack room to check on the abandoned ponies. With the horses on his mind, Joe didn’t need my help.
He opened the half-door and peered inside. A soft light was on in the corner, George’s radio playing Fleetwood Mac beside it. The man himself was asleep in the hay, and so was one of the ponies. The other staggered to its feet and came to the door, ignoring Joe and butting my arm with her wispy nose.
I stroked her gently and fed her the softened ginger nuts I’d somehow begun carrying in my pockets. The mare and I had an understanding: I’d feed her all the biscuits she liked if she didn’t show me her teeth. It was working out well, so far.
“She likes you,” Joe said.
“I don’t know about that. I’m just glad to see her up. Your—uh—George thought she’d die.”
The mare wandered off. Joe waited for her to lie down close to her stablemate and then shut the door on the cosy scene. “Who needs me, eh?”
“Just about everyone, I reckon. It’s taken three people to keep up with your usual workload.”
“Uh-huh.” Joe shot me a sideways glance. “I know Jonah was here, so there’s no need to cover for him.”
“I wasn’t going to keep it from you.”
“Didn’t tell me, though, did ya?” Joe started for the main stable block.
I trailed him. “When should I have told you?”
“Dunno. Just now? When you put me to bed? I—fuck. I don’t know. I’m just—” Joe stopped at the first stall and flicked some low lights on. “It feels weird knowing he’s been here. I’ve spent so long trying to pretend he never was.”