Page 232 of Where We Stay
I’m not sure I’m ready to face the entire Ashford family yet. There’s also the small issue of me carrying Dean’s baby and not having told him.
I need to tell him soon. I know that. But every time I try to form the words in my head, my throat closes over.
“Do you mind if I give it a miss?” I ask carefully. “I might go see G instead. She’s been worried sick.”
“Of course I don’t mind, baby.” Dean looks down at me. “You do whatever you need to do. I’ll drop you there on my way.”
“I can drive myself.”
“No.”
I lift my brows. “No?”
“You have a concussion, Blair. You’re not driving anywhere today.”
“Bossy bitch.”
“Protective, bitch,” he corrects, completely unapologetic. “Are you coming back tonight?”
“Yes.” I settle against his chest again. “And I expect mac and cheese.”
“Making requests now, huh?”
“Hey, I’m milking this for as long as I can.”
Dean laughs and presses a kiss to my forehead. “You can ask me for anything, Blair. I’d give it to you.”
He kisses me deeply, and I stay curled against him until we finally need to get out of bed.
* * *
By the time Dean pulls into G’s driveway, I’m exhausted from the five-minute car ride.
Apparently, nearly being murdered really takes it out of you.
I look at my reflection in the rearview mirror before climbing out. My lip is swollen, there are bruises forming around my neck and my hair is shoved into the messiest bun known to mankind.
Stunning.
My gaze drifts toward my cottage next door, and rage burns through me. Ben tried to take the first place I ever felt safe and turn it into another place I was afraid of.
Psychotic son of a bitch.
“You sure you’re okay?” Dean asks for what is probably the fifty-seventh time today.
“I’m sure.” I lean across the console and kiss him. “Go get Pen. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
“You better.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too, baby.”
I climb out and walk toward G’s house. Before I even make it to the porch, the door flies open.
“Jesus fucking Christ, B.”
“Good to see you too,” I say, smiling.
