The Edge of Misery: The Mitchel Brothers Series Book Two

14

Later that evening, Declan carefully lowered Wren onto the bed after carrying her to the outhouse for what she assured him would be her final trip for the night.

"You want a little laudanum for the pain and to help you sleep tonight?"

"No, the spinnin's finally started easin'. I don't wanna take somethin' to make it start again," Wren murmured, pressing her left hand to her head. "And the pain isn't as bad now that I've had a few cups of Mae's willow bark tea."

Declan frowned and grunted while carefully repositioning the pillows underneath her right ankle, all too familiar with the tea's weak relief compared to the more potent medicine. "I can ask if Uncle Em has any morphine instead. I don't want you hurting."

"I'll be fine with the tea."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

Declan studied her, "All right, but if it gets too much, I might take matters into my own hands."

"You certain you don't wanna sleep in here?" She asked in a blatant attempt to deflect their conversation as she awkwardly adjusted and smoothed the covers over her lap with her left hand. "I doubt I'll move from this spot—"

"But I might," Declan quietly interrupted with a shake of his head, admitting to himself he was seizing the opportunity to put any physical barrier between them that he could with the amount of touching he would have to do till Wren healed. "And I don't want to risk causing you pain by rolling on your hand or bumping your ankle."

"Oh, that's an easy enough fix—we could sleep on opposite sides of the bed for the next little while."

She had him there, Declan silently confessed. So he needed to come up with a logical, solid excuse to counter and hopefully put an end to the discussion. "It's tempting, but it's still too much of a chance to take, and trust I won't accidentally hurt you while I'm unconscious."

Heaving a sigh, Wren settled into her pillow and stared at him. "Why d'you have to be so sensible?"

Declan's lips twitched, then curled in a devilish grin, "If my mama heard you, she'd wonder what I'd done to make you say such things about me."

"I'd blame it on my goose egg," Wren weakly smiled, "and that there's two of you bein' so kind to me right now."

Guilt pierced him at her words, but he pushed it aside, knowing it was a sensation he was liable to become intimately familiar with over the following weeks.

However, he assuaged some of it by giving in to the desire flooding his veins when he braced himself on the headboard and mattress near her left hip and leaned down, capturing her lips in a lingering kiss.

She clutched at his shirt, then smoothed her hand up his chest to the back of his neck and threaded her fingers through the hair at his nape, drawing him closer.

With his self-control perilously weak, he tightened his fists on the headboard and quilt to keep from hauling her into his arms as he willingly deepened their exchange to a possessive melding of lips.

But upon realizing several moments later that Wren had managed to unbutton his shirt and he was helping her maneuver his left arm through the sleeve while mentally planning the logistics of their lovemaking to ensure it was as painless for her as possible, Declan forced himself to stop.

"Sleep well," he reluctantly growled against her mouth with one last, ardent kiss before straightening to his full height and thrusting his arm back through his sleeve, "and holler if you need anything. I'll come running."

"Will you blow the lamp out?" She sighed, snuggling into the covers with a smile. "And leave the door open so I can hear you and Eldon?"

"You're not getting out of bed, though, if you hear him," Declan frowned, crossing to the door. "I'll take care of it if he—"