Chapter 56

He froze. Blinked. Swiped a hand down his face. "I meant," he ground through a clenched jaw, "that you always seem to be in a state of chaos. The crazy quiets when you're behind the camera. The calm is written all over your face." He looked at her once more, all tension evaporating from his features and, when he spoke again, his voice was rough. Low. "Honestly, Ames, it's about the only time I don't worry half to death about you."

She opened her mouth. Closed it. And wondered what it would take to restart her heart. Her lungs were good, though. Yep, she was panting like she'd outrun the hounds of hell.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" She hoped the floor wouldn't leave a mark when she face-planted any second from now.

His frown deepened. "Like I ripped out your jugular with my teeth."

Actually, that was kinda accurate after hearing him... Gah.

"You..." She rubbed her forehead to stop the room from spinning and cleared her raw throat. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Yeah, anim. I don't have to eat, sleep, or breathe, either."

She ignored his dry tone and focused on that term. "What does that word mean?" He'd used it earlier tonight, too.

"Anim? It means angel."

Angel. Angel? He had a nickname for her and it... God save her from this gentle, endearing man. She couldn't take it. He'd been calling Olivia "little red" since they were kids, and sure, he called Amy "Ames," but never a term of endearment.

"Angel," she breathed. She was the farthest thing as one could get.

"Now what's the matter?"

She gave her head a violent shake to clear it. His behavior had been off all night. She'd chalked it up to his distress about the wedding, but she wondered if it wasn't more.

"You've never been this..." She waved her hand to conjure the right term. "Territorial before. Protective, yes. Especially toward Olivia. But not overly so like lately. And certainly not in my case."

"I've been as protective of you as I have been of her. I just hide it better in regards to you. You can handle yourself just fine and I like my nose where it is, thank you very much." He scratched his jaw. Studied her. "What's really wrong? Why are you still dressed and standing in the middle of the room? Furthermore, you didn't go feral when we got here. I half-expected you to kill me. What gives?"

She'd been too numb with shock, then overwrought by relief. And that was before crippling guilt had set in. "This is wrong, me being here."

His eyes narrowed to slits. "What?" When she didn't answer, he stepped closer until they were nearly touching. "Earlier you said you didn't belong anywhere. You're wrong. I have plenty of room and you'll have privacy. You belong here just fine."

And he called her the angel? "I'm not your responsibility. This feels an awful lot like you're...taking care of me."

His nostrils flared and heat blasted his eyes, dilating his pupils. "Call yourself a responsibility or a burden one more time and see what happens, Ames. Even I have my limit when it comes to patience." He snapped his lids shut and inhaled. When he opened his eyes, affection stared back at her once more. "There's nothing wrong with taking care of you, of each other. That's what friends do."

But what would he get out of it besides her being constantly underfoot in his home? "I can't repay you for this." Her pride was already dust. "Our friendship always seems one-sided."

"I don't know whether to hug you or throttle you sometimes." He stalked away, came halfway back. "You're kidding me with this, right?"

She hated her insecurity more than the pity she sometimes found in Olivia's eyes. But there it was. Through the years, Amy had shown not one trace of the emotion in Nakos's presence. He'd just slap himself with remorse if he knew he, above all others, had made her this way. Juvenile and pathetic as it sounded, if given the choice, he'd always take Olivia over Amy. Hell, everyone would. She was lucky enough to have them in her life, so she'd accepted her lot and hadn't let it bother her. Much. Why now she was suddenly so...weak, she hadn't a clue.

"You make me laugh."

His quiet declaration had her whipping her gaze to his, but he was hands-on-hips, head bowed as if talking to the floor.

"You do. You make me laugh." He rubbed the back of his neck and lifted his wide-open gaze to hers. "A trivial thing to most people, but I've always been self-conscious about it. Maybe because I was different than others around me growing up. I think becoming the ranch foreman and being responsible for all these men made me more serious later on, too. I don't know." His gaze swept over her face. "With you, I don't hesitate. I...let go."

Unsure what to say, she stared at him. They'd always had a kind of bond between them. Able to say just about anything. Yet this seemed deeper than where they'd ventured before.

"And this?" He waved his hand between them. "I don't have this connection with anyone else, don't have to censer myself. Flipping from Arapaho to English and back again as a kid taught me to think before speaking. But for some reason, you shut off that habit. The most irreplaceable thing about you is that never, not once, did you judge me. Even now, who else could I say these things to?"

Glancing away, he expelled an uneven breath. "One-sided, my ass," he mumbled in disbelief. "I spent the first nine years of my life on the reservation with people who looked and sounded just like me. Do you have any idea the culture shock in coming to live here? Outside looking in, Ames. All the time. And to make it worse, I still attended school with the tribe."

His gaze leveled on hers, determined. Steady. "How many mundane rites of passage in the white man's world would I have missed if not for you including me?" He raised his hand to cut her off. "And before you say it was Olivia, too, I know." He checked items off on his fingers. "Bonfires, football games, movies with friends, school dances, or just hanging out. Yes, Olivia was there. But you made me a part of the action instead of an observer. Thing is, had you not been there next to me, I never would've gone. Because from day one, you got me. You understood without a word or a look or any indication from me just how different I felt. I don't even think you were aware you were doing it, which makes everything I just said ten times more important."

A tick of anger wove into his expression again, tightening his full mouth. "That's who you are, Ames. That's what makes you special. I should be repaying you. If you want to start keeping tabs on our friendship, I've got twenty-one years accumulated." He froze as if realizing his tangent, then rolled his head to stretch his neck. "You're also infuriating. Perhaps I need to reexamine the talking freely part. I stand by everything else - "

She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. He oomphed and took a step to steady them before enfolding her in a return embrace.

They stood together long moments, her breathing in his earthy scent and him idly stroking her hair.

God, she had no idea he'd thought of himself as an outsider growing up. He'd been a little shy but, as they'd gotten older, he'd seemed more vigilant than introverted. It had been second nature for her to include him.

Maybe that had been the invisible connection tethering them all along. Other than her brother, she'd never felt welcomed anywhere but with him and Olivia. Something in him must've called to a part of her. Displaced souls.

Though he made no attempt to move, she wondered if he was uncomfortable. They didn't do a lot of touchy-feely. But there was such a sense of safety, of relief, being held by him. "I know you don't like hugs, but thanks for tolerating mine."

He dropped his chin to the top of her head and spoke against her hair. "I don't mind them." The thump, thump of his heart against her cheek increased. "One last time, and hear me this go-around. You do belong here, for however long you want or need to stay. There's no time limit. Hell, stick around until we're both ghosts, anim. I'm good with whatever."

Mercy, this man. "Perhaps you could, I don't know, lead with that next time?"

He stilled for a beat as if stunned, then...he laughed. That low, hoarse rumble she adored that filled the cold places inside her. His chest shook and his arms cinched tighter. Heaven.

She fisted his shirt at his back and closed her eyes, relishing the brief blip of intimacy before he would inevitably pull away. "Getting to see you in your habitat? The sweats and bare feet? Totally worth listening to you yammer."

Another ragged laugh. He eased away, tucking hair behind her ears. "I don't get it, but okay."

"You only ever wear jeans and flannels. Except in summer. Then it's jeans and a t-shirt. No deviation."

"I didn't realize my wardrobe was of significance." His amused gaze swept her face, but a tiny wrinkle formed between his brows as if his mind had gone somewhere else. "Answer me something. Why wouldn't you use the camera when you thought it was from me?"

"You won't like my response and we just got to the make-up huggy portion of the evening."

He rolled his eyes. "Will you use it now that you know it's from Nate?"

"Yes." At the hurt in his gaze, she explained. "I lost my mojo or something after the Chris thing. I'll get it back. But Nate owes me nothing. There's no history. He purchased the items because he genuinely likes my work, not out of obligation. Something about that makes it sit right in my conscience."

A slow shake of his head, and he cupped her jaw in warm, callused hands. "You're not, nor have you ever been, an obligation." He muttered something unintelligible and kissed her forehead, then stepped away. He walked to the door and paused. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow, unpack your things, and that includes the equipment."

As he retreated down the hall and out of sight, she said, "Are you going to be this bossy now that we're roomies?"

"What difference does it make? You won't listen."

True. Shrugging, she turned for her bags on the bed.