“You can, of course, but you can also take my arm. Happy to help keep you steady.” That offer was, of course, made for no other reason than a genuine desire to help him. Obviously, the fact that I really liked touching him had nothing to do with it.
He looked up at me, those gorgeous moss-green eyes soft. “Thank you. I think… I think I’d like that option better.”
So did I.
I slipped past him to open the door, then held out my arm. He took it without hesitation, waiting for me to lock the door behind us once we’d stepped outside. And yes, I did like the way he held on to me, light but with enough pressure that I was acutely aware of where his fingers touched me, where the warmth of his skin traveled through me, like touching a heat source that lit up my entire body.
So if I went a little slower than I otherwise would have, that was to make sure Forest was safe and didn’t trip. Not because I wanted to let his hand linger on me a little longer.
My truck wasn’t easy to get into for him since it was so high, so I’d asked his permission to use his car. It was a bit of a clunker—maybe he should let Dax have a look at it and make sure everything was okay—but it did the job.
Once he’d managed to slide into the passenger seat, I sat behind the wheel. “It’s about a twenty-minute drive, but our reservation isn’t until six-thirty, so we have plenty of time.”
“Okay.”
I backed out of the driveway, then started the drive to the restaurant. “I don’t like having to hurry or feeling like I’m on a tight schedule.”
He shot me a sideways look. “I would think being in the Army is little else but being on a schedule all the time.”
I chuckled. “True, but it’s rarely a tight schedule. We don’t like to hurry if we don’t have to. We save that for combat.”
“I bought a throw pillow today,” he said after a comfortable silence. “And a new rug for my bathroom. It’s super non-slip, unlike the one I have now.”
Alarmed, I shot him a look. “You should’ve said something. I would’ve replaced it immediately.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t realize it until I almost went down yesterday because it slid from under me.”
I should’ve checked to make sure everything was safe for him to use. Maybe I should install some bars in the bathroom that he could hold on to when he got dizzy? Definitely in the shower. Even I had almost faceplanted there once, when it had still been my room. And maybe there was some kind of non-slip mat I could put in the shower itself? Or put one of those rough coats on the floor, the ones that almost felt like sandpaper. Not the most comfortable, but definitely a lot safer.
“You’re gonna do a whole checkup of the room now, aren’t you?” Forest asked with a small smile.
“Yes.” I saw no need to deny it. “I should’ve done that right away, even before we switched rooms. But I’ll get some safetybars up in the bathroom tomorrow. I can also install some in the room itself if you want.”
He’d also need something for the floor. The hardwood was beautiful, but way too slippery for him and too unforgiving should he fall. “And we can get some super soft rugs that I’ll tape to the floor so they won’t slide. And if there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”
Forest put his hand on my thigh, and lightning flashed through me, as if suddenly, all the nerves in my body were connected to that one spot. “You really are extra,” he said softly.
I had to force myself to remain still. “Extra?”
“You never do anything halfway, do you? Once you make a decision, you’re all in.”
He wasn’t wrong. “I told you, I’m a fixer.”
“That’s one word for it, but you’re much more than that. It’s sweet, Nash. You’re sweet.”
I mentally groaned. Sweet? That word was for puppies and kittens and little girls with bows in their hair. Not for grown-ass men who wanted…more.
Sweet sounded like he was firmly friend-zoning me, and that stung a little. I wanted so much more from him than friendship, even if this was the worst timing in the world.
But I could be patient and wait for him to be ready. In the meantime, however, I wasn’t gonna let him label me as safe and cute and whatever it all meant. “I’m not sweet.”
“You are, but in a good way. The best way.”
Was there a good way to be sweet? Apparently so, and with his hand still on my thigh, dangerously close to my hardening cock, thinking became impossible. “If you say so.”
He squeezed my thigh, and I fought back a groan. Jesus, did he realize what he was doing to me? “I do say so, Nash, so stop arguing with me.”
Ha! Like that would ever happen. “Just let me know what other safety issues you need me to fix in your room,” I circled back to the original topic.
