"And purple. You know I like pretty colors."
He smiled. "I do remember that, but we need to get you to the hospital." He grabbed a soft, flannel shirt and carefully slid her broken wrist through the sleeve, but even being his most careful, she still flinched and fresh tears filled her eyes. "Shit, Tatum. Sorry."
"No, it's perfect." She got her right arm through the sleeve, and then stood patiently while he quickly buttoned it up. The back of his hand brushed over her breast, and they met gazes for a moment.
God, he'd missed her. It was like no time had passed. She'd never left her place deep inside his soul, the place he'd kept open for her.
And now, she was back. And she needed him.
This time, he wasn't going to let her down.
He crouched down in front of her and undid the straps on her sandals. Her toes were painted a hot pink, and he smiled. "I remember when you stole that bottle of nail polish so you could have pink toes," he said.
"It wasn't pink. It was salmon. And you made me take it back," she said. "You said that just because we were homeless didn’t mean we were criminals."
"Yeah, well, sorry about that."
She braced her hand on his shoulder as she lifted her foot for him to take off the shoes. "Why?"
"Because the nail polish gave you joy. I understand a lot more about how important the little moments of joy are. Without them—" He cut himself off.
"Without them, what?"
"The past can overwhelm you," he said succinctly as he set the shoes aside. "Pants." His voice was rougher than he intended as he unzipped her pants and pulled them down. Her underwear was a tiny scrap, and he left it in place.
Tatum rested her right hand on his shoulder as she pulled her feet out of the tight pants. Her legs were long and toned, not the scrawny teenager he'd known before. She had the body of a woman now, with curves and…bruises.
He brushed his thumb over a purple mark on her thigh. "What's this from?"
She looked down. "I don't know. It's just a bruise." There was a hint of laughter in her voice. "You're still the same, aren't you? The protector."
"I am." He grabbed his running pants. They were the smallest thing he had with him, but they were still huge on her. He laughed as he tied the bow. "They might literally be twice as big as you are."
"They're perfect." She suddenly sat down heavily on the bed, as if she were too tired to stand. "These smell so much better."
"They do." He tossed the old sweatshirt in the trash, then folded up her clothes and put them in his travel bag. It took him only a few minutes to pack, but by the time he was ready, she'd already curled up on her side into a tiny ball, hugging her broken wrist to her chest. "Tatum?"
She didn't open her eyes, and her breathing was heavy.
God, she looked exhausted. Brody wanted to let her sleep. He wanted to pull the covers over her, then climb in with her and pull her into his arms. Make her feel safe.
But there were a thousand reasons why he couldn't do that, the most important one being that she appeared to be on the run. So, he sat down next to her on the bed, and touched her shoulder. "Tatum, baby. It's time to go."
Her eyes opened and for a second, she looked confused. Then she saw him, and recognition flooded her face. "Right. Okay. Great." She sat up too quickly, and gasped in pain.
Brody swore as he helped her off the bed. "You need to get that looked at."
"Not in town. We need to get out of the area." She sighed as he strapped her sandals back on her feet.
He grabbed his bag, tossed some cash on the bed for housekeeping, and then tucked his hand around Tatum's elbow to support her. "Where are we going?" he asked as they stepped into the elevator.
She bit her lip and said nothing.
"Tatum?"
She finally looked up at him as the elevator hit the first floor. "I don't have a place to go. I left my wallet and my phone and everything behind. I don't have anything with me."
Brody had to remind himself to stay calm. What the fuck had happened tonight to make her bolt without even her phone or wallet? "And you don't want to go back and get it?" He was impressed he'd managed to keep his voice even.
She shook her head.
"Even if I go with you?"
She shook her head again.
What the fuck? She knew what he was capable of, that he could keep her safe. And yet it wasn't enough? He wanted to ask more, but the elevator doors started to slide open. He put his cowboy hat on her head and pulled it low so it would hide her face. She turned into him, tucking her face against his chest, hiding it from anyone who might recognize her.
He put his arm around her and guided her across the lobby. He knew she couldn't even see where they were going with her head down like that. She had to depend on him.
This was her life. Not just tonight, but all the time.
Always hiding. Never able to live, except when she was on that stage.
He reached his truck and gave the valet another tip. He helped Tatum into the passenger side, tossed his bag in the back seat, then jogged around to the driver's side.
Tatum had slunk low in the seat, the hat pulled down, completely covering her face.
Swearing under his breath, Brody started his truck and pulled out.
"Where are we going?" she asked. "I know you have a plan. You always do."
That used to piss her off. Right now, she sounded grateful for it. He wasn't sure he liked seeing her depend on him. It was the role he'd always wanted in her life, but it wasn't taking a whole lot for him to realize that a shrinking Tatum wasn't right.
She needed to find her way back to herself.
"Home. My home. The ranch," he answered. And stopping at the regional hospital near his house. That wasn't optional. "Is that cool?"
She pulled the hat off and looked at him. "Really? I can stay with you? It won't be for long—"
He wanted to tell her that she could stay with him forever. He wanted to say a lot of things that he hadn't said before. But she'd left him once, and for good reason. He didn't have the right to say a lot of things right now. So, instead, he simply nodded. "You can stay as long as you need to. You know that."
She bit her lip. "I wasn't sure. It's been so long since…you know."
He looked over at her as he paused at a stop light.
The light from the streetlights was illuminating her face, casting shadows across her cheeks. She looked exhausted and in pain. And beautiful. God, she was beautiful. And she was here. With him. Trusting him again, even if it was only to keep her physically safe. He wanted to apologize, to explain, but the past didn't belong with them right here. Not right now. "You can always reach out to me, Tatum. Always."
She nodded, a half-smile at the corner of her mouth. "Still the same Brody," she said as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "Is it okay if I sleep?"
"You bet." He reached over into the back and grabbed a blanket. "Here." He helped arrange it around her, and then she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, still holding her arm to her chest.
The light changed to green, but it took Brody a moment to pry his gaze off the woman resting beside him. She's been in his dreams for fifteen years. A figment of his imagination. An elusive memory of a time when life had tried to hand him something beautiful. A wisp that slipped out of his fingers.