All About You (All Series Book 6)

by Natalie Ann

  She’d hesitated plenty, but she didn’t show it, or didn’t want to show it. But now she was starting to wonder if his comments had something to do with Trey’s mother. Only she knew now wasn’t the time to ask. She took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it on his knee. “Just because I might hesitate about something doesn’t mean I won’t do it.”

  “I know. I know you were scared too.”

  “Who says I’m not now?”

  “What’s there to be scared about now?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll hurt you trying to help you into bed. Maybe I’ll scar Trey for life trying to teach him how to cook and feeding him something he won’t like, or say something I shouldn’t. Maybe I’ll give you both food poisoning. Though the last one is unlikely since I’m a pretty good cook.”

  “You can’t hurt me physically any more than I am. I doubt you can scar Trey over food. He’s four, just give him something he says he likes, and that’s all he will remember.”

  “Good to know.”

  She pulled into his driveway and was out of the door just as Finn’s parents—with Trey—pulled in behind her.

  “Don’t try to lift him, Olivia. You’ll only hurt yourself,” Lance said, rushing forward. “Just open the doors for us and we’ll get Finn up to his room.”

  “Bring me into my bathroom,” Finn said.

  “Oh, why didn’t you say you needed to go?” Olivia said. Geez, was she going to have to ask like she did with Trey earlier today?

  “I can handle going to the bathroom just fine. I need to take a shower.”

  “Finn,” his father started to say.

  “No. This isn’t up for debate. Olivia, if you wouldn’t mind, you can help me, if that would make everyone feel better.”

  She knew her face was bright red. There was no stopping the mortification over him telling his parents that she was going to help him take a shower. He’s hurt, she reminded herself. It’s nothing more than medical attention. “Sure, whatever you need.”

  A few minutes later, when Olivia walked into his master bath with clean clothes for him, Finn said, “You know you didn’t fool a soul trying to cover your red face when I asked you to help me take a shower. As much as I would appreciate help in another way, I don’t think I’m up to it.”

  Finn’s parents were downstairs entertaining Trey while she was upstairs with Finn for the moment. They’d leave when Finn was in bed.

  “Oh, I’m sure you’d find a way if you really wanted to.”

  He smiled, the first genuine smile she’d seen from him in the last several hours, and she finally felt everything was going to be okay.

  “There is nothing wrong with that part of my body, but the rest of me is pretty abused, not to mention the pain meds are finally kicking in full force. Help me get this shirt off. Try to keep your hands in the appropriate places, please.”

  She giggled. Now she knew the meds were taking effect. If it wasn’t for his last joke, his eyes were all glossy and his grouchiness seemed to be gone.

  “I’ll try to restrain myself, but I won’t make any promises.” She pulled his shirt over his head and paused. “Should you get your bandages wet?” He’d had a few cuts and stitches on his shoulder, but nothing else. Just the first signs of nasty bruises on his ribs.

  “Hand-held shower head. You can spray me down and soap me up, then rinse me off.”

  “Me?” she croaked out. “You want me to wash you?”

  “Think of it as a game. How clean can you get me? When I’m feeling better I’ll return the favor.”

  Oh boy, this was a playful side she hadn’t seen before. Remember he is medicated right now. His words were even starting to slur a bit.

  “I’ll hold you to it. Okay, stand up and let’s shed you of your bottoms.”

  She quickly had him undressed and into the large shower stall with the water on. He was standing there starting to weave a little, so she made quick work of spraying him down, lathering his lower body up, and rinsing him again.

  “Would you look at that? I told you there was nothing wrong with my lower body.”

  She choked back a laugh. Yep, she’d noticed that.

  “How are we going to wash your hair without getting your bandages wet?” she asked, trying to draw the attention away from his growing anatomy.

  “I’ll sit down. I need to anyway. I’m feeling a little dizzy.”

  She dropped the shower wand and reached for him. “Don’t fall down on me.”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m just lightheaded. Must be the steam in the shower.”

  “I’ll turn down the hot water.”

  “Don’t. It feels good.”

  “Make up your mind. You’re killing me here.”

  Oh my God, she needed to get out of the bathroom fast. She was getting lightheaded herself, and not from the steam, but from the adrenaline of this situation.

  He slowly sat down on the bench at the end of the shower and she saw his eyes were only half-open now. There was no way she was going to tell him to lean back; it wasn’t going to happen, it looked like he’d fall asleep if he did.

  “Can you brace yourself on your knees and lean you head forward?” She was just glad he had short hair and did as best she could at keeping his bandages dry.

  “Don’t move. Stay there.” She grabbed the towels and started to pat him dry. “Now stay again. I’ll get your clothes.”

  “I’m not a dog.”

  “What?” What was he talking about?

  “You keep telling me to stay. I’m not a dog. And just bring my boxers. That’s all I need.”

  As quickly and gently as she could, she got him into his boxers, guided him back to his room, and helped him into bed. Despite his complaints about the extra pillows, she placed two more behind his head and propped him up. The minute his head hit the pillows, his eyes shut.

  Once she thought he was sleeping, she sat down on the floor next to his bed and put her head on her knees.

  She thought watching a four-year-old was tough. That was nothing compared to caring for someone you loved.

  Questions

  Finn blinked his eyes open and took inventory of his body. His head wasn’t so bad, but his ribs were throbbing. Right now though, he wasn’t sure what was worse, the pain from his ribs, or the nasty medical hangover from the drugs.

  He took a deep breath, wanting to stop the cough, but knew he shouldn’t. They’d told him to cough and clear his lungs, regardless of the pain, so he gave in. Then he eased his legs to the side of the bed and onto the floor, just sitting there on the edge until he knew he was steady enough.

  Once he was positive he wasn’t going to throw up, or fall down, he stood up and took a few steps toward the bathroom, holding onto the bed, then the wall when he could.

  In the bathroom he took care of his business, then looked at himself in the mirror and tried not cringe at the bruising on the side of his face and forehead.

  His face was clean, no more smoke or soot on it, and he was trying to figure out how that happened. Vaguely he remembered taking a shower, but couldn’t possibly figure out how he’d managed it alone.

  He ran the water in the sink and splashed it on his face and neck, hoping to wake up some more, then decided to brush his teeth while he was there.

  “Finn! What are you doing? Open up the door. Are you okay?”

  He heard the worry in Olivia’s voice. “I’m fine.”

  “Open up and let me help you.”

  “I can go to the bathroom without help.” What the hell? He wasn’t dying. He heard the door handle rattle and was thankful he was done going to the bathroom since she decided to just walk in on him. “Do you mind?”

  “Sorry,” she said, a blush covering her face. “I was worried. You could barely stand on your own last night.”

  “I’m good now. At least I feel steadier. Is that coffee I smell?” It was exactly what he needed and realized he was starving.

  “Yeah. We made
you breakfast and I was bringing it up and panicked when I didn’t see you in bed. Are you finished in here? Can I help you back to bed?”

  He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he fought not to snap back. She was only trying to help. “I’m done. I don’t need help. I can walk.”

  She put her hand on his arm anyway, and though he didn’t want to admit it, it felt good being there. Not steadying him physically, but mentally.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and slid his feet up, propping himself back on the pillows, before extending his legs out straight. Then he finally noticed the plate of food on the dresser next to his travel mug.

  “Here, I thought the coffee would be easier to drink from this mug than a cup, but I can swap it out if you want.”

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll hand me that mug right now.”

  He watched her lips twitch, then she handed him the mug and he took a healthy gulp, not caring that it was too hot for such a big sip. It felt like paradise on his dry throat, soothing the nerves that were forcing him to want to cough, rebelling at the dirt and soot still in his lungs.

  “I’m glad I made a full pot. Looks like you might need a refill soon.”

  “Yeah. It feels good right now. Tastes like heaven too. Almost as much as the smell of the French toast.”

  She picked the plate up and set it on his lap along with a fork and butter knife. “I couldn’t find a tray.”

  “This works.”

  “Do you want me to cut it up for you?”

  “I’m not a child. Speaking of which, where’s Trey?”

  He did remember Trey came home with them, and was shocked he was just now thinking of that. Trey was always his first thought when he woke.

  “Watching cartoons in the living room. I told him I would get him when I knew you were awake enough. I’ll go do that now.”

  He nodded and dove into the breakfast.

  A minute later, he heard Trey’s feet pounding up the stairs. “Daddy!” Then Trey jumped on the bed like he always did when he woke before Finn.

  It was only the pleasure of seeing Trey’s smiling face that stopped him from reminding Trey he was hurt and jumping on the bed wasn’t helping his ribs any. Neither was the fact that Trey was snuggling into his side. He’d take the pain any day in exchange for a hug from his son.

  “I made you breakfast.”

  “You did a great job, scout. I love it.”

  “Olivia only had to pick out four egg shells.”

  He choked and coughed, then wished he didn’t, knowing it would be hard to stop the coughing again. Finally regaining control, he shifted his eyes back to her and asked, “Really?”

  “Don’t worry, I got them all.”

  He liked the mischievous gleam in her eyes and the way she was looking softly at Trey as the two of them sat on the bed. “How many pieces of French toast did you eat, Trey?”

  “Two.”

  That shocked him. He expected the answer to be none. “What happened to your bagel and peanut butter?”

  Trey had had the same breakfast every morning for the last month. He’d finally get sick of it and choose something else, then eat that every day too. Finn hoped to God he didn’t have to cook French toast everyday now until Trey got tired of it.

  “I told him that a good chef tastes his food first before he gives it to other people.”

  “It was really good,” Trey told him and then leaned forward with his mouth open to take a bite of Finn’s.

  Finn finished up his last bite, and took his final sip of coffee just as Olivia reached for the plate. “I’ll just go clean up breakfast. There’s more warming if you want it.”

  “Just coffee if you don’t mind. I don’t think I should risk eating too much just yet.”

  “Do you want some more pain pills now that you’ve got food in you?”

  “No. No more of them. I’ll stick with Motrin.” A dull pain was better than a fuzzy head any day. “There’s a bottle in my bathroom.”

  He watched as she walked in to get them and returned to hand them over. “Come on, Trey. I’ll fill your Dad’s mug up and you can bring it back to him and visit while I clean up breakfast.”

  “Okay,” Trey said, happily, bouncing off the bed. He didn’t miss Olivia’s grin of amusement over Finn fighting back his wince of pain. Or her whispered, “Sorry about that.”

  ***

  “Where’s Trey?” Olivia asked a short while later. All the dishes were cleaned and put away, everything in the house was in order, and she was thrilled she’d made it to morning, let alone through the night.

  It was pretty touch and go for her there. Once she knew Finn was out for the night, she took care of getting Trey ready. She didn’t know the first thing she needed to do there, but since it was way past Trey’s bedtime, he’d been tired and more than willing to get ready without fighting her.

  Thankfully Trey helped her along the way, and after four stories, he finally fell asleep, so she shut the light off in his room, but left the door open. Since there were lights in the hallway, she figured Trey might need them to light his way if he had to go to the bathroom or needed her.

  After Trey was sleeping and Finn was resting peacefully, she got ready for bed herself. She didn’t want to sleep next to him for fear she’d jostle him by mistake, but she was afraid to sleep on the couch downstairs and not hear him either.

  “I sent him to his room to play. Come here and sit next to me.”

  She hesitated, then sat on the edge of the bed next to him. He pulled her forward and rested her head on his chest. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said.

  “You won’t.” He ran his hand over her head. “If I didn’t thank you last night, I’ll do it now.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Not just for taking care of me, but Trey. He doesn’t seem worse for the wear, everything considered.”

  “I think that’s a compliment.” She lifted her head up to look at him and he leaned down to kiss her on the lips.

  “It was.” He continued to stroke her head. “Where did you sleep last night?”

  “Next to you.”

  “There’s no pillow.”

  “I brought one up from the couch. No big deal, I didn’t sleep much anyway.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Is that your way of saying I look like crap?”

  “Only you would think that.”

  “Any woman would.”

  “I thought we established you weren’t like most women.”

  She had no idea what this conversation was about, and her fatigued mind couldn’t focus on it. “It’s a good thing, right?”

  “Yep.” He hesitated, then said, “Did I take a shower last night? I’m a little fuzzy on the details.”

  “You did, with my help.” He blushed and she was surprised to see it. “Don’t worry, I didn’t take advantage of you, no matter how much you begged me.”

  He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, the scruff of his beard rubbing against her forehead briefly before he gave her a chaste kiss. “I don’t think I would have minded if you did.”

  “True, but you wouldn’t have remembered by the sounds of it. That takes all the fun out of it.”

  He shook his head, amusement riding high. “You smell different. I mean, not your normal scent.”

  “You don’t carry my brand of shampoo,” she said, sitting up to face him. It felt good lying against him, but she didn’t want to push her luck, assuming she was causing him discomfort.

  “I might have to rectify that.”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Unsure what she wanted to say. No, that wasn’t true, she knew what she wanted to say, or rather ask, but decided not to.

  He knew her better than she thought, though, and said, “Go on, ask.”

  “Has anyone ever lived here with you before?”

  “You mean a woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just Trey’s mother. But only for a sh
ort time. You’re actually the only other woman that’s been in this room besides family. It’s not even the same bed, if you want to know the truth.”

  She should have realized that, but she wasn’t thinking clearly—that Trey’s mother had been here. The fact that he got rid of the bed they shared made her wonder even more. Was he so devastated over their relationship he had to destroy every trace of her?

  “What’s her name?”

  It probably wasn’t a conversation to have right now, but she wasn’t sure the best time to ever have it. If he seemed open to talk, she was going to take advantage of it.

  “Becca. And she only lived here for a few months.”

  He did say that she left when Trey was a baby, but she hadn’t thought it was that early. “Can I ask what happened?”

  He nodded. “I bought this house when I found out she was pregnant. We moved in shortly before Trey was born. She left when he was six weeks old.”

  What?! How could someone just do that? Walk away from a newborn. “Why?”

  “If I ever see her again, I’ll ask. Then again, I’ll most likely just turn my back if I see her, never knowing the real reason. Not that I couldn’t guess it.”

  “She didn’t tell you she was leaving?”

  She wanted to ask what his guess was, but held her tongue. He was answering her questions, but they were short answers.

  “Nope. I came home from my shift. My mother was watching Trey. It was Becca’s first day back to work. Little did I know she’d packed all her stuff up during the night and filled her car. I found a note on my pillow.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” She was surprised she could even find the words to voice that.

  “Neither did I. You’re the first person I’ve told that much to outside of family. I’d appreciate it if it didn’t go any further.”

  She nodded, not knowing how he could have handled that. How he could have handled not knowing it all, on top of having to raise a baby on his own.

  Was he heartbroken over her? Is that why he rarely dated anyone? She wasn’t sure she’d be able to function if she were in his shoes.