“Good to know.” The tone of his voice switches, turning apathetic and flat, and a stabbing feeling twists in my stomach. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt someone else with all this shit ruining me. Dean has his own issues; I don’t need him to worry about mine too.
In the kitchen, I hold Lily cradled in one arm and prepare her bottle in the other, the room silent around me. Beside me, Dean prepares coffee, pulling two mugs down as he works one handed. It’s then that I notice he isn’t wearing his sling.
“Where’s your sling?” I frown, “You’re not supposed to be without it.”
“A few hours a day is fine,” He grumbles.
“Okay well, when did you take it off?”
“Last night.” He places a mug under the nozzle and hits the button to fill it, the strong, aromatic scent of fresh coffee hitting me next.
“Dean!” I scold, “Where is it?”
He ignores me as he pulls the fresh cup from the machine and puts the second mug in to make the next coffee. While that’s brewing, he continues to ignore me as he adds sugar and cream to the drink, sliding it my way.
“Would you mind giving me a hand settling her for her feed?” He asks instead of answering.
“Why?” I snap my head back. “I can do it.”
“You’re off the clock, and it’s our routine,” He snaps back. “Mornings are mine.”
My cheeks fill with heat, “Oh right, yes, of course.”
His shoulders sag. “Sloane, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you’re right,” I nod my head quickly. “We can do it like we did before.”
But my heart is pounding, and my stomach is twisting. I’ve become too comfortable already, too stuck in my duties. Fuck, this isn’t like me at all.
He sighs loudly, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Just out of curiosity,” I keep my tone purposefully light and breezy, “How would you have done it without me here?”
He gives me a one shoulder shrug, “Would have dealt with it.”
He turns his back to me and strides from the room, his muscles flexing and rolling with every step. So, I pull myself together, pretend the past twelve hours didn’t happen, and I follow him.
Chapter Twenty-two
Imake it a point not to share a bed with a woman, past both of us getting what we want. We fuck, and one of us leaves. There’re no shared nights, no waking up together in the morning. Doing that begs for a level of intimacy I do not have the capacity for.
Until Sloane.
Because waking up with her draped across me, her sleepy eyes looking up at me with such opendesire, having her hands on my stomach and my chest, the way her fingers teased toward the knot holding the towel together had almost ended me. It was more than just wanting to sink into her, more than the lust, because I was looking forward to waking up to her again.
Even though I’m walking around my damn house with a semi and that’ll only keep happening with her tight little body all pressed up against mine.
But she doesn’t want it to happen again; she made that perfectly clear.
I shouldn’t have snapped at her though. That shits on me.
She goes about like nothing is amiss, her face a perfect mask of nothingness. She doesn’t show the hurt I saw flash in her eyes,doesn’t show the desire that had made them burn only an hour ago, they’re just flat. I watch her every move, tracking her like looking away from her will make her vanish. And perhaps it will. Sloane Reynolds is a flight risk, she’s got just the right amount of nervous energy that would have people steering clear of her. But I’m in too deep, my curiosity has its claws in, and there isn’t an awful lot I won’t do to find out everything I want to know.
She moves a cushion toward me, and I lean back on the couch, allowing her to place it down so she can situate my daughter on my lap so I can feed her. She avoids meeting my eyes, but for my daughter, she warms, giving her, her brightest smile. When she is placed down and I have the bottle in her mouth, Sloane steps back.
“Will you be okay if I just go get dressed?” Her tone is polite.
“You don’t need to ask, Sloane.” I sigh, “Listen–”
