Sarah changed that 'not right' to a definite 'wrong' but she didn't move from her spot, or move anything more than her hands. If something had happened to someone else, he would have told her, which meant this was something more personal. Her gaze flickered to the calendar on the wall, but that date was still two days off, so she had no immediate answers. But she was patient – or at least understanding – and she could wait.
"All right, not yet," she whispered, craning her neck to kiss his head without disturbing where he had his head tucked now.
Working her other arm free from his back, she shifted slightly until, while he was holding her in his lap, she was holding him in her arms. Both hands now free, she moved one where he had directed, fingers threading through his hair, fingertips lightly tracing random patterns over his scalp, occasionally cradling the back of his head protectively – not out of somehow knowing what had recently happened, but that back-of-mind knowledge that, on someone all but invulnerable, that spot was his Achilles heel, something that roused her deep protectiveness – while she worked at the muscles of his shoulders with her hand.