Chapter 63
Leah sits at the dining room table. She runs her finger along the surface and it leaves a big streak in the dust.
“I’m thinking this place might need a woman’s touch,” I say.
She arches a brow at me. “Why? Because women are meant to ‘clean houses’ and be subservient? What the h ell, Aaron!? Sexist,
much?”
Christ. That didn’t come out right. “I didn’t mean for you to clean. Or other females. Just for someone to run the place. A bu nch of males left to their own devices…” I shrug. “They might be eating raw slabs of beef and only changing their socks once a week.”
She makes a gagging sound. It ends on a bit of a laugh.
I grin.
Da mn, she’s pretty when she smiles.
Her whole face lights up and her eyes… her eyes shine with such energy it’s like the whole meaning of life is wrapped up in that sparkling glint.
“I’m gonna miss that,” I whisper.
She looks at me sharply. “What?”
“You. Your laugh. Your smile. The way you can make the best of the worst situation and find the good in everybody.”
She blushes.
I cross the room and stop in front of her.
She tenses.
But the pulse is ticking in her throat and her pupils are dilated.
Hmmm. Interesting.
I take a chance and clasp her hand.
And then I feel it. That spark.
It’s always there. Like a low-level hum of electricity in my blood.
I look at this woman. Her hair is a tangled mess. Her eyes are big and wide with shadows beneath them. And there are blotches of blood on her face and neck and chest.
“You look like he ll, honey.”
She snorts. “Yes, well. You never were one for flattery.”
Is that where I went wrong? Not giving her the words?
“Words are empty, Leah. It’s actions that have meaning.”
And I’ve fought for her.
Bled for her.
Killed for her.
On more than one occasion, I’ve nearly died for her.
She looks at me sadly. “Yes, you’re right. Actions speak far louder than words.”
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