Forty-One
Bay
You’re an adult.
No reason to freak out over it.
It’s fine.
I stared at the coffee as it began to fill the pot.
The excuse to escape and come make coffee had been a relief. I’d all but run from the room. Not that I hadn’t enjoyed it. Clearly, I had. But I was struggling with the fact that I’d done it at all.
What part of red flags was not sinking in with me?
Did I really want to trust a man again, especially one like Hale Carver? Who I had no future with. He was dangerous. But he was also very tempting. Any straight female would want the man.
He’d given me the best orgasm of my life with his fingers. What could he do with his…
I covered my face with both my hands. What was I thinking? The man was injured. We weren’t going to be having sex. By the time he was healed enough for that, I’d be back in DC.
The disappointment at that thought was also not a good sign.
I was cracking. Losing my good sense, staying under this roof with him.
The thought of going back to my life wasn’t very appealing, and that was terrifying.
I had been comfortable with my daily routine.
My job was fine, I made money, I volunteered, and it had been…
just…fine. That word again. A boring word.
No! It wasn’t boring. It was safe. Safe wasn’t boring.
It was smart. What I was thinking about with Hale Carver was not smart, and nothing about that man was safe.
Besides, what was so wrong with boring? Boring didn’t get you fired, it didn’t break your heart, it didn’t leave you homeless, and it sure didn’t get you shot.
“You gonna stare at it, or can I have a cup?”
Hale’s voice caused me to jump, snapping me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t heard him come into the kitchen.
“Yes, sorry,” I babbled, not looking back at him and hurrying over to the cabinet where the cups were kept.
Don’t act all weird. You’re both mature adults.
“That wasn’t an order for you to get me coffee, Snow,” he said, entirely too close to my back.
We weren’t touching, but I could feel the heat from his body.
“I was just, um…” I turned around and shoved the cup at him. “Here.”
Great, he was shirtless. But then he had no other choice. I hadn’t helped him get dressed before rushing out of the bedroom.
A wicked smile curled his lips. “Thanks,” he said, then stepped closer to me before moving over to reach for the coffee. “There should be some oat milk in the refrigerator.”
I glanced from him to the refrigerator. “There should?” I asked, confused. There hadn’t been any yesterday morning.
“Yeah. I had some delivered,” he replied.
“You did?” I gave in and looked back at him this time.
He nodded, leaning back against the counter with his cup full, watching me.
I wished he wouldn’t do that. It made me nervous and flustered.
And good Lord, why hadn’t I helped him put a shirt on?
It was hard enough not to gawk at him. Shirtless, with his perfectly chiseled chest and artwork on display, and he was impossible to ignore.
“Do you want me to get you a shirt?” I asked, wanting to cover all that up.
He smirked. “No. I’m good.”
Well, I wasn’t.
“Relax, Snow.”
He was right. I needed to relax.
“Yeah, okay.”
“I finger-fucked your cunt. No reason to get all uptight and weird about it.”
Well, that didn’t help me relax. “Thanks. That’s very helpful,” I said sarcastically.
He chuckled into his cup. “I’m nothing if not helpful.”
Rolling my eyes, I stepped around him and took a cup out of the cabinet. I needed caffeine. It would clear my head. Possibly. Probably not. But I still needed it.
“I need to go into the office today. Sign some things, make sure it’s all running smooth,” he told me.
“All right,” I replied, not relishing the idea of being here alone. I wished Slash were here.
“After breakfast, I’ll need a shower and help getting dressed.”
I nodded. I could help him get dressed. At least, I wouldn’t have his body on display then, confusing me.
“You can take your shower with me since you’ll probably get wet while helping me,” he continued.
I froze. What had he said? Slowly, I turned to look at him. The amused twinkle in his eye wasn’t funny. Was he teasing me?
“You want me to help you shower?” I asked.
“Can’t do it alone,” he said. “Bullet wound, remember?”
Nope. No way. I could not do that. Could I?
“What…what about Ransom? Couldn’t he come over and—”
“Snow, I’ve had my fingers in your cunt. I think you can help me wash myself.”
Right.
Um…
“I’ll be real cooperative,” he drawled, then winked at me before taking another drink.
Fine, okay. I could help him. But I wasn’t taking a shower with him. I had to draw a line somewhere and stay behind it.