Dani slapped her hand over her mouth. “You make ’em sound like theWalking Dead.”
“Actually, that’s not entirely off base,” I said, and we were both in stitches.
“Should I be worried about the zombies?” Eamon asked when we’d finally stopped laughing, which got us going again, of course. But it felt good to laugh, to let out some of the tension that had been in my body ever since I’d overheard Carlo.
“Well, you are delicious,” I said, shocking myself with that remark. Where had that come from?
Eamon’s eyes went wide, but then he got up from his chair and sauntered over to me. “Delicious, huh?”
“It’s not like that’s news to you.”
He stepped closer, then lifted his hand and brushed a finger down my cheek. “No, but I still like it when you tell me.”
Oh, he was good at this. Either he was a natural-born charmer, or he had a lot of experience with flirting.
I swallowed. “Well, I just did, so I assume we’re good until you need your ego stroked again?”
He grinned as he leaned in, brushing his lips over my ear. My skin pebbled, and I suppressed a shiver. “I know something else you can stroke, sweetheart.”
He said it too low for Dani to hear—at least, I sure hoped so, or I’d never hear the end of it. I had to remind myself this was a role he played, not reality. Because otherwise, I would’ve asked if he really thought sleeping with his protectee was a smart idea. So instead, I played right along with his game. “I’ll stroke whatever you want when we’re back home, baby.”
His eyes went dark and a strange satisfaction filled me. Yeah, two could playthat game.
“You’re not playing fair,” he said softly, stepping back and subtly adjusting himself.
Oh god, was he hard? Just from my words? That was…incredibly hot. Maybe I was better at flirting than I gave myself credit for. I should definitely test it more on Eamon. After all, he was as safe as could be since nothing could ever happen between us.
Though safe was about the last word on my mind when I looked at him.
TEN
EAMON
A sad Charles tugged on my heartstrings, and a stubborn Charles made me want to push him. But a happy, flirty Charles? One who gave as good as he got and smiled so seductively while doing it?
Deadly. Absolutely fecking deadly.
I wanted to kiss the shit out of him, then bend him over the nearest table and fuck him until he screamed.
Instead, I took another step back and forced myself to focus on something other than those plump, kissable lips. “What’s next?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
I gestured at the empty bakery. “You’re done for the day. Does that mean you go home? Or is there something else on the schedule?”
“Oh.” He looked surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you to…” He gestured. “You know.”
I frowned. What on Earth was he referring to? “I don’t, actually.”
“Oh,” he said again, and I watched as he processed that,his face showing a rapid succession of emotions. First came confusion, his eyebrows drawing together as he tried to make sense of what I’d said. Then understanding dawned, his eyes widening slightly as the implications hit him. That was quickly followed by what appeared to be surprise.
“What were you expecting?” I prompted him when he didn’t elaborate.
“For you to tell me we were going home. I assumed that’s what you’d want.”
“Why?”
“Because it would be safer?”
