“I was. How did you sleep?”
“Fine.” I stand on my tiptoes and reach for a short glass on the second shelf, arching my back as I do.
He clears his throat, and I lower back onto my feet and brush past him to get water from the refrigerator door. “Do you have any coffee?” I lift the glass of water and watch him over the rim as I drink.
His eyes are glued to mine, and there is a hint of a smirk in them. “I don’t drink coffee, but I will get you some. Just let me know what you like.”
Leaning back against the counter, I prop my foot on my inner knee, cross one arm across my body, and set my elbow on it to hold my water up as I tip my head. Smugly cocking my eyebrow, I say, “It’d probably be easier if I made a list, you know, since you’re going to ‘have me in your house’ twenty-four-seven.”
The smirk vanishes, and he watches me cautiously, like he’s expecting me to yell or make threats. He clears his throat. “About that. I wanted to apologize to you last night, but I think you were already asleep. I don’t condone that type of behavior, and I won’t tolerate it from my team.”
Shrugging my shoulders flippantly, I wave my hand in the air. “What’s the saying? Boys will be boys? Just reinforcing the stereotype, right?”
His intense stare doesn’t waver as he rubs his palm down his jaw over his beard. “It’s the first time something like that has happened, and I promise it’s the last.”
I snort-huff when I say, “You mean I won’t know when it happens again?”
Without skipping a beat, his firm, deep voice fills the room, and he takes a step toward me as he drops his fists to his sides. “Yes. I can’t control the inappropriate behavior of every man out there, but I can shield you from it.”
My heart flip-flops and my chest warms at the statement, his protectiveness creates a flutter deep in the pit of mystomach. It’s the same tone he used when I heard him tell someone to ‘say it again, motherfucker’ over the video conference yesterday. It actually made me stop as I rounded the corner in the hallway to listen to the rest of the exchange.
Pretending to ignore the chivalrous statement, I let my eyes move over his chest and stomach, like I’m judging him. “What kind of FBI guy doesn’t drink coffee? I thought you guys lived on coffee?”
The lines on his forehead relax at the shift of subject, and he crosses his arms again. “The kind that prefers to stay healthy.”
“Well, then you’re going to hate having me in your house. I like a lot of creamer, the sugary kind.”
He cocks his eyebrow with a smirk. “I’ll give you my login info to order whatever groceries you want.”
“Which brings me to the phone you promised. Mason won’t be happy if I don’t call him every day like he asked.”
He huffs a laugh. “You mean like he ordered?”
The tone rubs me the wrong way, and I set my glass on the counter before taking a few steps toward him, putting just a couple of feet between us, my head tipped back. His eyes watch my every move down his narrow nose.
“My brothers may be bossy, but everything they do is for the good of our family and home. We don’t always agree, and I’m the first to let them know when they’ve overstepped, but I have that right because they’remybrothers.Mine.” I point my finger at my chest. “If you want our time together to be pleasant, you’ll remember that.”
His dark eyes volley between mine for a moment. I’m close enough that I can smell the smoky spice of his cologne mixed with the smell of sweaty man, a heady combination of cloves, musk, and sweat. I take a small inhale but try to disguise it as a breath of anger.
He’s so damn good-looking.
And I want to slide my finger along the curve of the muscles on his chest.
“I’ll get you a phone today. Is there anything else? I need to get ready for work.”
“Who will my jailer be today?” I ask and look the other way, like I’m bored. “Hopefully not one of the Neanderthals from yesterday.”
“Are you comfortable with Swan?” He tips his head to the side, the look of regret back in his eyes.
Another shoulder shrug. “I suppose. He seems kind of soft for an FBI guy.”
His lips tip up on one side. “Don’t let it fool you. He may be friendly and lighthearted, but I’ve seen him take down and overpower a runner faster than most guys.”
Hmm, so he’s a chameleon. Kind of like Marley’s husband, Jax. Noted.
“Will you be gone all day like yesterday?” I don’t know if I can go through another day of just walking around looking at the inside of his house. If I were interested in exercise, I could put the treadmill and climbing machine to use in his little exercise room, but I hate sweating.
The humor is back in his eyes. “You think you might miss me, baby?”
