Chapter 5 #2
“Ready?” he asks, appearing before me. I nod reluctantly and take his hand, letting him help me from the SUV.
Once I’m out, I hold my leg in the air because the thought of putting pressure on my ankle hurts to even think about.
I nod, and with very little effort, he’s got me in his arms and carries me inside. “The couch okay?” he asks.
“Yes. Thank you.” He sets me down and grabs a pillow from the other end.
I watch as he reclines my section and then places the pillow under my ankle.
It’s odd to have him here in my home, in my space, taking care of me.
He could have very easily just dropped me off, but instead, he’s making sure I’m comfortable. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“I’ll be right back.” He disappears outside, closing the door behind him. He’s barely gone when he’s pushing back through the front door. My purse, lunch bag, our drinks, and our food are in his hands. “Okay to just set these here?” he asks, pointing to the coffee table.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Here.” He hands me a tea. “It’s the best sweet tea you will ever drink.”
“I doubt that. I’m from Georgia. Nobody makes tea like they do in the South.”
“Just try it,” he urges.
Wanting to see what the fuss is all about and to prove him wrong, I place my straw in the cup and take a hefty drink. It’s good. “It’s good, but not Georgia good,” I tell him.
“How about it’s the best sweet tea on the West Coast?” He smirks.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I joke, and he grins. “Now, what about this burger you raved about?”
“This one is yours, and here are your fries.”
“Thank you.” I place them on my lap, unwrap the burger, and take a big bite. My hand covers my mouth while I chew because I literally bit off more than I could chew, and he doesn’t need to see all that. “Oh my God,” I say when I finally swallow. “That’s incredible.”
“Told you. Want to know what else is incredible?” He doesn’t wait for my reply as he continues. “That you eat real food.”
“As opposed to eating fake food?” I ask, taking another bite.
He grins. “No, as opposed to ‘oh, just a salad for me,’” he says, pitching his voice to be more feminine.
“Umm… was that supposed to be me?”
“No, but that’s what I’m used to. Explain that to me. Why do women not eat in front of men? You have to eat to live, so… what gives?”
“I can only assume they’re nervous or trying to impress you.
Me, on the other hand, I’m neither,” I say, taking another bite.
If I thought he was being real about this “let me take you to dinner” thing, that it was more than just the chase, I might be nervous, too.
However, he’s not, and this is the only dinner he’s getting.
I’ve seen the women on his arm, the models, the actresses.
I’m nowhere in their league. That’s not a dig at myself, just stating the facts.
He plays on and off the field, from what I’ve read, and I turned him down.
I’m probably the only woman in America to do that.
I’ve stunned his ego, so now he has to prove he can get me to say yes.
“Maybe that’s what it is,” he mutters.
“What?”
“I’m sure that’s what it is. You’re right.”
We finish our burgers, his two to my one, and start on our fries. “Can you hand me my purse?” I ask. He does as I ask and places it next to me on the couch. Pulling out my wallet, I grab a ten-dollar bill from my wallet and hand it to him.
“What’s that?” He looks at the ten-dollar bill as if it offended him.
“For dinner.”
“I’m not taking your money, Tessa.”
“Please.” I try to bat my eyelashes to see if he’ll cave. No such luck.
“No. Put that away.” His voice is stone serious, which is not something I’m used to seeing with him, so I nod and put the ten back in my wallet.
“Thank you for dinner. Thank you for bringing me home, taking care of things at the shelter, all of it. Thank you, Landon.”
“Was that so hard?” he asks.
“And to think I was starting to believe you might not be that bad.”
“Hey, I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Oh, yeah, and what reputation is that?”
“With the ladies.” He bounces his eyebrows up and down, and I try my best not to laugh, but I can’t hold it in.
“Laugh it up. Your boy’s got skills.”
“No. Just no,” I sputter with laughter. When I finally stop laughing, I finish off my fries and throw my trash in the bag. “That hit the spot, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He gathers all his trash, shoves it into the bag, and stands.
“Where are you going?” I ask, craning my neck to watch him as he walks into the kitchen.
“Looking for the trash can,” he calls back. A few minutes later, he’s back sans bag of trash, but holding an ice pack from the freezer and a towel from the drawer beside the stove. He places the towel over my ankle and the ice pack on top of it. “That okay?” He peers up at me.
“Thank you.” I’ll admit, I never expected this side of him.
I had him labeled as rich and pretentious, not soft and caring.
It’s a definite contrast to how I had him categorized in my mind.
His taking care of me makes him more… endearing.
It’s dangerous. I need to keep my wits about me.
I can’t let one afternoon of being nice allow me to fall in line with the masses that fall at his feet.
He nods, steps over my legs with his long-ass ones, and takes his seat on the couch. “Now what?”
“Um, I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“Want to watch a movie?”
“Don’t you have places to go and people to see or do?” I ask.
“Yes. I have to be here, and I have to see—” He pauses and glances down at my chest, before his eyes come back to my face. “Or do you.” He grins.
“You’ve been here, we had dinner, I let you pay, and I appreciate your help, but I’ve got it from here.”
“Come on, just one movie. It’s still early.” He reaches for the remote on the coffee table and turns on the TV. He makes himself at home, pulling up Netflix and searching through the movies. “What do you feel like watching?”
“Landon.” He turns his head to look at me. “Go home.”
“I’m good.” He turns back to the screen and pulls up a movie. It’s a romantic comedy, which surprises me.
“This is what you pick?”
“Yeah, don’t women like these things? The romance movies?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t explain why you picked it.”
“Don’t worry, Deaton. I know this date doesn’t end with that kind of happy ending,” he jests.
“Date?” I ask, incredulous.
“I picked you up, literally.” He smirks. “We had dinner, and now we’re watching a movie. I qualify that as a date.”
“Nope. No. Not happening, Barker. Get your ass out of my house.”
“Fine.” He raises his hands in the air. “It’s not a date. We’re just two gorgeous people spending time together. How’s that?”
“Gah. You are so full of it.”
“Thank you.”
I roll my eyes and settle back on the couch to watch the movie.
What choice do I have? He’s taken care of me and bought me dinner…
I guess it’s the least that I can do. Blocking him out, which is so damn hard to do, I focus on the TV and get lost in the movie.
It’s one I’ve seen before, but I’m easily engrossed in the story regardless.
Halfway through the movie, my bladder is screaming. Reaching out, I remove the ice pack and lower the leg of the couch.
“What are you doing?” he asks, pausing the movie.
“I have to pee.”
“Let me help you.” He stands and reaches for me.
“I think I can walk on it.” His hands grip my arms as I take a tentative step. It’s painful, but not anything I can’t handle. “See.”
“I see, but I also know from experience…” He points to his chest. “Professional athlete, remember? Anyway, I also know from experience that the more you rest and ice it, the faster it will heal.” With that, he bends and lifts me into his arms. “Where are we going?”
“Down the hall. The door at the end of the hallway.” My heart rate kicks up a notch.
Being in his arms does something to me. When you look past the cocky and the career, and you strip him down to the man, all that’s left is his caring nature he’s shown me today and his pure sex appeal.
It’s kind of hard to forget that when his strong arms are carrying me.
He walks us down the hall and stops just outside the bathroom door. “I’ll stay right here and wait for you.” He pushes on the door and holds it open for me. Carefully, he sets me on my feet, keeping his hands on my waist to make sure I don’t fall.
“I’m good, Landon.”
He nods and releases his hold on me. I hop through the door, lean against the bathroom counter, shut the door, and twist the lock.
I take what feels like the first breath since the moment I fell.
Landon is pushy and intense and so damn stubborn.
He’s also caring, and that’s not something I expected from him.
He’s also the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, and it’s taking willpower I didn’t know I possessed to sit next to him.
If I were the adventurous type, I’d crawl into his lap and let him have his way with me.
I have no doubt it would be one for the history books, but that’s not me.
I know if I let that happen, I would regret it the next day.
With sex comes feelings, and I just can’t separate the two.
“Tessa, you okay in there?” Landon calls through the door.
Shit. “Yeah, just a second.” I scramble to the toilet, work my leggings down, and somehow manage to sit without falling over.
It takes me a minute to go, even though my bladder is full, knowing he’s standing right outside the door, listening.
Finally able to do my business, I manage to stand and hobble to the counter to pull up my leggings and wash my hands.
When I open the door, he’s there. Without a word, he picks me up yet again like I’m nothing but air and carries me to my spot on the couch. “Do you have any popcorn?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’s in the pantry.”