Lost in her grief, she realized she’d missed the return of the platform when a glass of water appeared before her, gripped in Ian’s capable-looking hand. Even though he was protective of his hands, they looked plenty strong.
So did his thighs, she noticed absently. He’d crouched down to her level, like a catcher behind the plate.
“Thanks,” she murmured as she took the glass. “Rehydration is important after a sob fest.”
“You don’t have to make light of it, you know.” His gentle response nearly undid her all over again.
“Oh, but I do. Because that’s how I roll. Laughter is the best medicine, right?”
“Sometimes.”
She downed half the glass of water, and sighed. “No water anywhere in the world tastes like Yatesville water. Seriously. Try it.”
She handed the glass back to him. Obviously h
