“Relax, baby. We don’t need to talk about anything you don’t want to. How about I go in and pick up some food for us to bringback to my place. If your knee’s still hurting, I can go in, and you can stay in the car. Want anything in particular?”
For a moment, words failed her. The last thing on her mind was food. Clearing her throat, she stammered, “Um, a salad?”
He nodded, still holding her hands. “I was going to get a chicken cobb with extra chicken and balsamic on the side. Want the same?”
Why was he being so nice to her? There’s no way he’d bought her story about the photos being a prank. Right? “Sure, that sounds good, but no extra chicken and the white wine vinaigrette instead. Um, please.”
“You got it,” he said, giving her hands a soft squeeze before releasing them.
As he reached for his door, guilt rushed over her. She may not be ready to talk about the photos, but he didn’t deserve her blatant dishonesty.
“I lied to you,” she blurted as he pushed his door open. He turned back to her with raised eyebrows, and the words tumbled from her mouth. “Back at my apartment. When I said the photos were no big deal, I lied. Theyarea big deal.” They terrified her. “But I don’t know what they mean or who they’re from, and I’m scared to tell you about it.” Because he’d look at her differently after he found out what she’d done. And, dammit, she loved how he looked at her.
Closing his door, he faced her. Her heart tripped when he gently pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and cupped the side of her face. “I know you lied, baby, and it’s okay?—”
“It’s not,” she protested, shaking her head.
“You may have lied with your words, but I could see the truth in your eyes.” His thumb caressed her jaw. “I promise, it’s okay. So long as you’re safe, we can talk about those photos whenever you’re ready, whenever you’re comfortable. I meant it earlier when I said I’m all in, Freya. I’ll use every resource I have tofind out what’s going on and to keep you safe. You can trust me. When you’re ready.”
“I do trust you,” she murmured. “I just don’t know...” Where to even start orhowto begin explaining.
She leaned into his hand, closed her eyes, and exhaled.
Her eyes flew open when he pressed his lips to hers. “Whatever’s going on, we’re in this together. But when you’re ready.” He flashed her the sweetest grin. “Now, how about we table the heavy talk, and I’ll go get our food. Did you want anything to drink?”
Forty-five minutes later, they were unloading their food onto Xander’s dining table. Delicious-looking salads and a trio of mini cobblers—blueberry, peach, and strawberry-rhubarb.
Balance, right?
Her stomach growled loudly, and she slapped her hands over her stomach as heat washed over her face.
“Well, that answers my question,” Xander said with a chuckle. When she tilted her head, he clarified. “I was going to ask if you wanted to hit the hot tub first.”
She shook her head, pointing at the cobblers. “I’m tempted to eat those before the salad.”
“I don’t blame you, but either way, you have to share them with me.”
“Share?” She tapped her lips with her finger as she eyed him up and down. “What’s in it for me?”
He closed the distance between them and hauled her against him, all the while being careful of her sore left side. “Whatever you want, baby,” he said with his lips inches away from hers.
Grinning, she pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. This was a million times better than the nerves and doubt, than the fear that he was going to call things off because she was too much.Granted, the worry still lingered deep in her gut, but Xander’s earlier words, not to mention his firm lips on hers, went a long way to reassure her.
Before things could get too heated, before she could sink into him and get lost in their kiss, she pulled away and shot him a wink. “Oh, I’m sure I can think of something.” Her stomach rumbled again, and she cringed. There went her attempt at being sexy. “But food first.”
While they ate their salads, Xander kept their conversation light. He knew she’d been rattled by the pictures, of him seeing those fucked-up photos, but he didn’t want to push, didn’t want to rush her. However, that didn’t mean his mind wasn’t whirling with every conceivable scenario. But he’d be patient.
They’d both been stuffed after lunch and shared the peach cobbler, saving the other two for later. Now, after quickly changing into his swim trunks, he double-checked the temperature of the hot tub while Freya changed.
One hundred and one degrees. Perfect.
He found a mellow playlist on his phone, connected it to the outdoor speakers, and set the volume to low. He placed a couple of bottles of water on the table beside the steaming hot tub and climbed in.
He groaned as he lowered into the water. Aches he didn’t know he had screamed in relief. He leaned back against one of the jets and sighed. Closing his eyes, he sank down and let the water work its magic.
After a few moments, he heard the sliding door open and close, and he peeked his eyes open.
His jaw dropped, and he was struck dumb. Hell, he may have even drooled a little.
