throat. He placed his arm over her, laying his palm along her check and ear, letting his fingers gently rub her scalp. “Shh, you’re so tired you can’t relax. Go back to sleep, Whisper.”
“Where am I?” she asked in a drowsy voice full of concern.
“You’re with me.”
“Heather?”
“Downstairs with the others.”
Her eyes closed and she cuddled closer.
“Protected.” The single word confirmed more about her past than a week of talking.
Mark walked near, navigated around the coffee table and sat on the glass top. “Is she okay?” Keith nodded. “Just tired.”
Mark reached up, pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, shook it out, and spread it over her. She sighed contentedly. Mark touched her hair without disturbing her. “She looks like a kid.” His voice was quiet.
“Most people do when they sleep,” Keith replied.
88
Whisper
“No calculation, no defense.”
His brother smiled and replaced the hair.
“Innocent looking.”
Keith silently agreed. She looked like an angel, sleeping peacefully. Even the thumping from below seemed far away as he relaxed and let his head fall back. Each time she squirmed, he stroked her cheek and hair until she quieted.
Mark said, “I’m sorry about the accident but I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too, Mark.”
“Hey, and about Whisper…”
Keith raised his head.
“Well, when she heard you were coming home, she said she’d stay away. She said she’d step out and give you back your house.” Mark shrugged his shoulders. “She’s still here. I guess I’m trying to say thanks for—”
“Needing her?”
Mark smiled. “No, for accepting her. You know, letting her help.”
“Mark,” he said quietly, “we’d get along fine on our own, you know that. We’d muddle through whatever mess we found ourselves in. I’m not blind, and see having her and Heather around, make things a whole hell of a lot nicer. I’ll make it up to her somehow.”
Mark stood. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.
Being needed and appreciated seems to go a long way with her.”
Keith closed his eyes and thought about Mark’s statement. For the first time since he limped in the door, he actually contemplated what motivated her and couldn’t come up with an answer. Some people helped out while calculating repayment. Whisper sure as hell wasn’t one of them. As Mark said, being needed and helping seemed to give her something she looked for or wanted. Did she desire approval?
89
Kathleen Lash
Or could she simply be one of those people who had a heart of gold?
Sometime later, his eyes opened and the room slowly came into focus. He’d been covered with a blanket while slumped in the corner of the couch. A pillow remained in his lap and Whisper’s head and shoulder rested there. They were alone.
He groaned because something felt really good.
Jesus! Curled on her side facing him, Whisper held his wrist. She had his index finger in her mouth, lightly sucking it. She appeared to be asleep. God, the woman had a talented mouth and loved using it.
Having just enough sense to refrain from acting on certain urges, he managed to pull his finger away.
With none of the kids around, he touched his fingertip to her lips and she opened before her tongue came forward to lick. If she kept it up, he’d come right where he sat. Using the moisture on his finger, he traced her soft lips. A simple gesture had never been more arousing.
The thumping in the crypt stopped, and he heard kids walking up the basement stairs. The kitchen door opened, and something crashed on the floor. Whisper sat bolt upright, shoving his hand away.
“Jesus, Jade, do you walk much?” Corey asked before kids started laughing.
Keith touched her arm to offer some reassurance. She flinched like he’d clobbered her; she tried to scream. The sound coming from her throat made him freeze. What the hell!
Heather rounded the corner. “Whisper!” Whisper gazed at her. Breathing heavily,
“Where am I?” she asked in a drowsy voice full of concern.
“You’re with me.”
“Heather?”
“Downstairs with the others.”
Her eyes closed and she cuddled closer.
“Protected.” The single word confirmed more about her past than a week of talking.
Mark walked near, navigated around the coffee table and sat on the glass top. “Is she okay?” Keith nodded. “Just tired.”
Mark reached up, pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, shook it out, and spread it over her. She sighed contentedly. Mark touched her hair without disturbing her. “She looks like a kid.” His voice was quiet.
“Most people do when they sleep,” Keith replied.
88
Whisper
“No calculation, no defense.”
His brother smiled and replaced the hair.
“Innocent looking.”
Keith silently agreed. She looked like an angel, sleeping peacefully. Even the thumping from below seemed far away as he relaxed and let his head fall back. Each time she squirmed, he stroked her cheek and hair until she quieted.
Mark said, “I’m sorry about the accident but I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too, Mark.”
“Hey, and about Whisper…”
Keith raised his head.
“Well, when she heard you were coming home, she said she’d stay away. She said she’d step out and give you back your house.” Mark shrugged his shoulders. “She’s still here. I guess I’m trying to say thanks for—”
“Needing her?”
Mark smiled. “No, for accepting her. You know, letting her help.”
“Mark,” he said quietly, “we’d get along fine on our own, you know that. We’d muddle through whatever mess we found ourselves in. I’m not blind, and see having her and Heather around, make things a whole hell of a lot nicer. I’ll make it up to her somehow.”
Mark stood. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.
Being needed and appreciated seems to go a long way with her.”
Keith closed his eyes and thought about Mark’s statement. For the first time since he limped in the door, he actually contemplated what motivated her and couldn’t come up with an answer. Some people helped out while calculating repayment. Whisper sure as hell wasn’t one of them. As Mark said, being needed and helping seemed to give her something she looked for or wanted. Did she desire approval?
89
Kathleen Lash
Or could she simply be one of those people who had a heart of gold?
Sometime later, his eyes opened and the room slowly came into focus. He’d been covered with a blanket while slumped in the corner of the couch. A pillow remained in his lap and Whisper’s head and shoulder rested there. They were alone.
He groaned because something felt really good.
Jesus! Curled on her side facing him, Whisper held his wrist. She had his index finger in her mouth, lightly sucking it. She appeared to be asleep. God, the woman had a talented mouth and loved using it.
Having just enough sense to refrain from acting on certain urges, he managed to pull his finger away.
With none of the kids around, he touched his fingertip to her lips and she opened before her tongue came forward to lick. If she kept it up, he’d come right where he sat. Using the moisture on his finger, he traced her soft lips. A simple gesture had never been more arousing.
The thumping in the crypt stopped, and he heard kids walking up the basement stairs. The kitchen door opened, and something crashed on the floor. Whisper sat bolt upright, shoving his hand away.
“Jesus, Jade, do you walk much?” Corey asked before kids started laughing.
Keith touched her arm to offer some reassurance. She flinched like he’d clobbered her; she tried to scream. The sound coming from her throat made him freeze. What the hell!
Heather rounded the corner. “Whisper!” Whisper gazed at her. Breathing heavily,
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