Chapter 8 #2
“It’s not rude,” I promised. His eyes widened again, and he glanced at me sidelong. He’d been doing that more and more lately. The more time I spent with him, the better I could read him, which meant it was easy to answer even when he didn’t voice his thoughts.
I had to press my lips together so I wouldn’t start laughing.
God, he was cute.
Grouchy baby.
“Okay,” Joe said a moment later. “I’m opening it.” And then, very carefully, like he was disabling a bomb, he began to tear through the envelope. I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t tell him to hurry. I didn’t want to rush him. I was just…excited.
When he pulled out the check and saw the numbers, he outright choked.
“Is that enough?” I hummed, practically performing victory laps in my head. “Because if you need more, I can talk to my friend—” I was the friend, obviously. “And see what I can do.” I would do anything he needed me to.
“No,” Joe bit out, voice rough. “No. This is…this is enough. This is more than enough.”
He looked dizzy.
I fought myself for a solid two seconds before my protective instincts won and I crossed the space between us. I slung an arm over his shoulder, leading him toward the porch where he could sit down.
No passing out near sharp objects for him, no siree.
When he’d settled onto the rickety steps—after it’d made that horrible wheezing sound again—Joe looked up at me.
Up.
Which was a first.
I was practically looming over him.
A fact that made the flicker of need in my belly turn molten hot. Fuck. I fought a shiver as Joe’s eyes turned sweet again. Needy. He was looking at me like he hoped I was going to fix everything for him and… Mmmm.
Apparently, that was my goddamn catnip.
And the final nail in the coffin.
No more denial for me.
Nope.
Because Joe and that face—those eyes—the way he regarded me like he thought I could take care of him?
Was just…no. I couldn’t deny how much I liked that.
Not even to myself. Good thing I’d already come to terms with my feelings and formed a battle plan on the drive over, otherwise the force of desire that struck me then might’ve made me push him back onto the steps so I could take care of him in a very different way, inexperience with men be damned.
“If you don’t use it all, keep the rest,” I commanded, voice husky. “It’s yours.”
Joe’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “But it’s so much.” His brow furrowed, wrinkle forming. “More than I expected. More than I need.”
“Santa’s decided you’re on the Nice list, apparently.” I rocked back on my heels, hands on my hips as I bent down close. “Besides, I won’t tell if you won’t.” I winked.
It was the wrong thing to say. Joe’s guard screeched right back up, steel walls thrown into the back of his eyes.
Then he wasn’t looking at me at all anymore, staring off to the side like he often did, avoiding my gaze.
“I’m not going to break the rules,” he bit out.
“Or take advantage of this very generous perso—”
“No. No, no, no.” Unable to help myself, I grabbed his face.
I cupped it in both of my hands, tilting his head up so he was forced to meet my gaze.
I needed those eyes on me again. Needed it like I needed air.
“That was my fault. I was just kidding—I make jokes, remember? You’re supposed to keep the money.
It’s your money. What you do with it after you cash it is entirely up to you.
Hell, spend it on strippers for all I care. It’s not m—the charity’s anymore.”
I could not believe I was getting away with this.
I mean, it wasn’t like I was doing something bad?
But it still felt…quite covert.
Joe relaxed, though he gave me a perplexed look. “I thought you joked when you were uncomfortable,” he said quietly.
I blinked.
My smile softened. “I joke always,” I reassured.
“So, you’re not…uncomfortable?”
“Right now?” I shook my head. “Nope. I’m very happy. Very pleased that my good friend, Joe, has let me put my toe in his door.”
Joe grimaced. “What?”
“You know what, never mind.”
It wasn’t until Joe stopped panicking that I realized I was holding him. That his stubble was scratching my palms, and that gorgeous square jaw was cradled beneath my fingers. Cradling him the same way he’d cradled the magpie.
Like he was fragile.
Like he was beautiful.
Like he was wondrous.
“I joke a lot, Joe,” I promised him. “You can’t take me too seriously.
And sometimes what I say makes little to no sense.
Comes with the territory of having no brain-to-mouth filter.
” He nodded, a sharp little motion that was barely a movement at all.
“It wasn’t a very good joke if it upset you,” I admitted.
“I’m still learning how to communicate with you. ”
He didn’t know what to say to that. He was quiet, staring up at me, letting me hold him—though I had no idea why. It was the kind of obedience that felt like it came naturally to him. Like simply being still because I wanted him to was the easiest decision in the world.
“Am I hard…to talk to?” Joe asked after a minute of simply staring.
“No,” I said, voice rough. “You’re very direct. That’s a good thing. You say what you mean, I respect that. Just like I respect you.”
I released him with great reluctance.
My hands tingled.
God, just touching him was fucking nirvana.
How long had it been since I’d felt this way?
A little voice in the back of my head whispered, Never.
Maybe it’s time to strategically pull back.
“I know you’re busy, and likely have plans. So I won’t keep you. But if you have questions, come find me,” I told him.
I deliberately did not give him my number.
It was better this way.
I could preserve some distance between us—and it also meant he’d be forced to see me in person when he needed me. Privately, I thought it was kind of nice to have someone come looking for me. I’d certainly spent an obscene amount of time hunting him down, so it was only fair.
I got a little thrill when I thought about him prowling town, searching for me like he had at the theater.
If Joe wanted my number, he’d need to ask for it.
And if he didn’t? He wouldn’t.
The ball was in his court.
That’s where I was most comfortable.
I headed back to my truck with swagger in my steps.
It was difficult not to turn around and demand Joe show me the interior of his house that instant.
Even more difficult not to micromanage the entire project myself.
Call in teams of people to take the weight off of him now that time was ticking even faster.
Do whatever I could to make this easier on him.
To give him a chance to actually enjoy the holidays with his family, the way I’d never spend them with mine.
But…again…I exercised patience.
Slow and steady wins the race, after all.
And this hare was ready to succeed.