Be With Me(22)

Sawyer felt a prickle of guilt creep up his neck. But he also resented the implication that he was to blame for Reggie’s resistance. He wasn’t good at the lovey dovey shit. He wasn’t gentle like Cam or laid back like Hutch. He couldn’t seem to curb the edge of desperation when it came to Reggie, and as a result he came across too forceful. Yeah, he knew that, but he didn’t need Cam or Hutch shoving it into his face.

“I’m not you, and I’m not Cam,” he said as calmly as he was able. “Besides, Reggie’s not a wuss. She can take it.”

Regina lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. She heard footsteps on the stairs and waited as they sounded down the hal and nearer to her bedroom.

She looked over when the door eased open.

Birdie stuck her head in and then smiled when she saw that Regina was awake.

“Hel o, dear,” she said as she walked toward the bed. “I was just coming up to check on you. How are you feeling?”

Regina stretched slightly, testing the soreness of her ribs, and was pleased to find there wasn’t as much pain as the previous day. She sat up and returned Birdie’s smile.

“I’m feeling better actual y.”

She raised her hand to touch her bruised throat and probed tentatively. Her voice didn’t sound quite as raspy.

“Almost human again,” she added.

Birdie sat on the edge of the bed and laid her hand over Regina’s. “The boys left medication for you to take. Do you want it?”

Regina lifted an eyebrow. “You’re giving me a choice? They al but shoved the pil s down my throat yesterday.”

Birdie smiled, and the soft wrinkles around her eyes gathered. “They mean wel . They love you,” she said simply. “Sometimes men go a little overboard when expressing their feelings. Are you in any pain?” Regina shook her head and avoided Birdie’s stare. She wasn’t in any physical pain, but the memory of last night’s confrontation was sharp. And now Birdie speaking of love. This conversation could only veer into very uncomfortable territory.

Birdie’s hand tightened around Regina’s fingers. “I see the worry, the fear in your eyes, Regina. I hope you aren’t afraid of me.”

Regina’s shoulders slumped. She chanced a glimpse into the older woman’s eyes but only found kindness in them.

“Do you . . . do you know what they want?” she asked tentatively.

Birdie sighed. “I love those boys. You know that. I also know how stubborn they are. Just like another person I know.” She glanced teasingly at Regina as she spoke. “If you’re asking if I know they love you and they built this house for you and they want you to live here . . . with them, then yes, I know what they want. They were quite honest with me about it.”

“And what did you say?” Regina asked softly.

Birdie’s mouth twisted a little. “What could I say?” She shifted forward on the bed. “I have the same concerns any mother has. I want my boys happy. I asked them if they’d lost their minds.” Regina laughed. She couldn’t help it. “That about covers my reaction,” she mumbled.

“Regina, I’m not here to lecture you. I’m not here to tel you what to do with your life. Al I want to make clear is that no matter what happens between you and those boys it won’t change how I feel about you.” Relief swept over her. She squeezed Birdie’s hand. “Thank you, Birdie. That means a lot to me.”

“Do you feel up to going downstairs?” Birdie asked. “I’ve fixed some chicken and dumplings and a big pitcher of tea just the way you like it.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful. I’m starving.” Birdie smiled. “Come on then, and I’l fix you a plate.”

Regina threw back the covers and eased her legs over the edge as Birdie stood and moved away from the bed. Birdie reached for her arm when Regina put her feet down and stood.

She real y did feel a lot better. Her head wasn’t so damn fuzzy, a fact she was grateful for. Maybe now she could face the guys lucidly instead of like a blathering, weepy idiot.

With Birdie at her side, she slowly made her way out the door and toward the stairs. When they reached the top, the sound of a door shutting halted Regina in her tracks.

She glanced at Birdie. “Are they back so soon?” Birdie frowned. “They only left an hour ago. They would’ve cal ed if they’d forgotten something.” Regina heard footsteps. They sounded like they came from the back of the house, not the front. Her pulse ratcheted up, and she put a hand on Birdie’s arm.

“Get back in the bedroom and shut the door. Lock it. Don’t come out until I come for you. If I’m not back in a few minutes, you cal the police.” Birdie’s frightened gaze met hers, but she nodded and quickly backtracked into the bedroom. Regina ducked into one of the other bedrooms in search of a weapon. She’d obviously stumbled into Sawyer’s room, judging by al the basebal paraphernalia. She grabbed a wooden basebal bat from the wal display and curled her hands around the handle. Her injured wrist protested the action, and her brace made her grip clumsy, but she ignored the discomfort and gripped the bat tighter.

Crap. It was an autographed bat. She didn’t want to know by whom. Sawyer would kick her ass if she cracked his bat on someone’s head.

Ignoring the twinge in her ribs, she hurried to the stairs and silently crept down. When she reached the bottom, she flattened herself against the wal and peered around to the living room.