Chapter 9 #2
Vander pointed a finger right at Saxon. “I’m too fucking pissed with you right now. Fair warning, I’m going to kick your ass.” He swiveled and strode off.
Saxon exhaled loudly. That didn’t go well. The bad taste in his mouth intensified. Vander was his best friend. He hated this.
But Gia was his.
He wasn’t letting anyone get between them. Even Vander, and especially Gia.
He slid into the driver’s seat. Gia sat fuming, staring straight ahead. He put the car in gear and pulled out. He drove to his place and into his underground garage.
“I don’t have any clean clothes with me,” she said.
“I’ll loan you a shirt to sleep in. I’ll take you back to your place early tomorrow to change before work.”
She nodded. “Is everything okay with Vander?”
Saxon turned the engine off. “No.”
She blew out a breath. “I don’t understand all this alpha-male bullshit.”
“Because you don’t have the right equipment.”
She shot him a withering look. “Maybe because I have a brain and use it.”
Saxon smiled and shifted in his seat, but that made his wound twinge and he winced.
Gia noticed. “Come on. We need to get that cleaned up.”
They walked up the stairs, and in the entry, he flicked on some lights.
She sighed, looking around. “I really love your house.”
They moved up the staircase, and Saxon was hit with the realization that he’d picked a lot of stuff for the house knowing that Gia would like it. He slowed his steps. Shit . Had he unconsciously picked and decorated this house for Gia? Fuck .
“Where’s your first aid kit?” she asked.
She was walking a few steps ahead of him and his gaze fell to her pert ass. Suddenly, his wound wasn’t feeling so bad.
Shit . No. She’d had a rough night, Vander was pissed. Saxon finally had Gia Norcross, so he was going to take his time when they got naked. It wouldn’t be rushed, and not with all this shit swirling around them.
She turned and eyed his face. “You okay?”
“Yeah, baby. First aid kit is in the master bathroom.”
They walked into his bedroom and he heard her sigh. She eyed his bed, then the window with its leafy view.
Then she turned and saw his walk-in closet.
“Oh. My. God.”
There was pure lust in her eyes as she stalked through the huge closet. Smiling, Saxon watched her circle the island in the middle. Then she fingered his shirts hanging in a neat row.
“How many suits do you own?” she asked, one brow arched.
“How many pairs of shoes do you own?”
She grinned. “Not enough. This is totally my dream closet.”
She pulled out a drawer in the island. All his cufflinks sat in neat rows. She pulled out a second drawer that contained his watch collection.
“Holy cow, Saxon.” She shook her head, stroking one of his Rolexes. “You and your watches.”
He cleared his throat. “Um, this is just half the closet.”
She blinked. “What?”
“There are his and hers—”
She brushed past him. By the time he’d turned, she’d moved through the other door. Obviously, the “hers” closet was empty.
Fuck, he remembered that the closets had sealed the deal when he’d bought the place. He’d known Gia would covet it.
He’d bought this place for her.
She spun around in the center of the empty closet, shaking her head. “Right, I’d better not let you bleed to death because I’m busy drooling over your closet.”
“I’m not going to bleed to death.”
Walking briskly, she headed into the bathroom. She made another happy sigh at the huge shower, and freestanding, stone tub.
“First aid kit’s on the left side of the vanity,” he said.
She moved into his spacious bathroom, along the double sinks, then pulled open the cabinet below. She heaved out his giant first aid kit, and opened it. Then she frowned.
“This is well used. You’re almost out of a lot of things.”
“Shit happens.”
Her lips tightened.
He pulled a wooden stool out from beside the vanity and sat. She helped him shrug out of his jacket, and that’s when she saw the blood staining the arm of his white shirt.
She hissed. “Saxon!”
“Damn, I liked this shirt and jacket.”
“Don’t joke right now, Saxon Buchanan.”
She started unbuttoning his shirt. Hmm, Gia Norcross standing right in front of him, unbuttoning his shirt.
She carefully pushed the ruined shirt off.
“Vander’s right,” Saxon said. “I’m not good enough for you.”
Her hands stilled. “That’s not what he said.”
“I suck at relationships because I haven’t had one, haven’t wanted one…”
Her eyes met his. “Do you want one now?”
He saw her pulse fluttering in her neck. “I want you more than anything I’ve wanted in my life.”
She stared at him, the connection between them pulsing.
Then she looked at his arm. “Dammit, Saxon, this must really hurt.”
“I’ve had worse.”
Those gorgeous eyes narrowed, and she set to work pulling things out of the kit. She started cleaning his wound, focused and careful. She finished with a bandage, then leaned forward and kissed it.
He grabbed her arm. “I’m trying to be a gentleman tonight. You’ve had a rough, emotional day. You need to rest.”
“You don’t need to be a gentleman.”
“I’m not going to screw this up, Gia.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her, but pulled back when she whimpered. “I’ll find you a T-shirt to wear to bed.”
“And I’ll find you some painkillers.”
“No.” He frowned. “I hate taking them.”
She cocked her hip, full of attitude. “Too bad. I’m taking care of you, Saxon Buchanan, and you’re taking the pills.”
His chest locked. No one had ever taken care of him. His team medic had pumped him full of meds, sure, but no one had fussed and worried. As a kid, the only people who’d looked after him were those who were paid to do it.
He lifted his chin. “All right.”
“Good.”
“And Gia, I’m not fucking you tonight, but you’re sleeping in my bed.”
She bit her lip. “Okay, Saxon.”