Coming Home(61)

He looked down at the bottle and then back up at her, his expression softening.

“It might help a little. For tomorrow,” she said with a shrug.

Danny stared at her for a second before reaching for the bottle, taking three long gulps before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Okay, you need to lie down now,” she said, taking the bottle from his hand, and just as she was about to stand from the bed, he brought both of his hands to the sides of her face, his fingers sliding behind her ears as his thumbs caressed her cheeks.

Leah froze, lifting her eyes to his, and for the first time that night, they seemed completely at peace.

“My sweet girl,” he whispered, and then his lips were on hers.

Compared to the explosiveness of their last kiss, this was a slow burn; Danny kissed her reverently, the gentle brushing of his lips igniting every nerve ending in her body before he pulled away slightly, turning his head faintly from side to side as he ghosted his lips over hers.

And then he lay back onto the mattress, his hands slipping from her face as he threw his forearm over his eyes.

Leah brought both hands to the bed as she closed her eyes, exhaling a long, quivering breath.

Holy. Shit.

She had no idea how long she sat there trying to pull herself back together, but eventually she stood, grabbing the comforter at the foot of the bed and pulling it up over him.

He didn’t move, and Leah exhaled in relief; he was finally asleep.

She walked around to the other side of the bed and pulled the trash can a bit closer to him as she placed his bottle of water on the bedside table.

“Good night, Danny,” she whispered before she made her way out to the living room.

She stood in the middle of the room, contemplating her options. Driving home at nearly four in the morning wasn’t really something she was looking forward to. Plus, she had told him she would stay the night.

Although chances were, he wasn’t going to remember that.

Leah’s eyes moved from the front door to the couch, where a large afghan was draped over the back of the cushions.

“Oh, screw it,” she mumbled, walking to his front door and locking it before she picked up his keys from the floor and placed them on the little table in the entryway. She went back to the living room and kicked off her shoes as she grabbed one of the throw pillows and propped it against the arm of the couch.

It was more comfortable than she thought it would be, and she reached up and grabbed the afghan, flipping onto her side as she curled herself into it.

Her body was completely exhausted, but her mind was on overdrive. She wanted so badly to make sense of everything that had just happened. She wanted to know what had caused him to drink so heavily. She wanted to know why he was trying so hard to stay away from her if he was attracted to her. She wanted to analyze his words, his actions, until she could rid herself of the confusion and apprehension coursing through her body.

She wanted to think about all of that, but the only thing her mind would focus on was that kiss, and the look in his eyes as he called her his sweet girl.

And so eventually she stopped trying to think of anything else and surrendered, replaying that moment over and over, letting it lull her to sleep.



Leah opened her eyes to the unnerving, disoriented feeling of waking up in a strange place. As soon as she remembered where she was and why, she bolted upright on the couch, swiping the hair from her eyes as she looked around.

The clock on the cable box said eleven forty-six.

“Jesus,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes before she stood from the couch and threw the afghan over the back of it again. After placing the throw pillow back where it belonged, she sat on the arm of the couch, chewing on her bottom lip as details of the night came flooding back to her.