A few moments later she places her small hand in mine. “Okay,” she whispers like it physically pained her to accept.
I internally beam and intertwine our fingers to lead her back to our cars where she proceeds to follow me home.
Is it risky to bring her to my place? Yes. But there’s no way in hell I’m leaving her to sleep in her car.
I signal to her to park in the garage and she meets me in the driveway.
“Cute house,” she says as I grab her duffle from her shoulder.
“It’s a rental. Come on.” I grab her hand, interlacing our fingers again, and lead us to the front door.
Every time I’m around her, I feel like I need to touch her to feel grounded. And I love holding her hand. It’s so soft and small compared to mine.
The house opens into an open floor-plan living room and kitchen, with a small hallway off to the right that houses both of the bedrooms and bathrooms. The whole place has been updated in the last five years and is the quintessential beach bungalow.
“Let me show you around.” I pull her through the twelve hundred square foot home, showing her where the laundry is, and the small backyard that has a hammock, propane fire pit, and twinkle lights.
The entire time she keeps her facial expression neutral. I have no idea what she’s thinking, and I’d be lying if it didn’t crossmy mind that I thought she was going to bolt. The only thing that eases my mind is that she’s still letting me hold her hand.
I finally pull her down the small hallway. “Here is the bathroom. It’s all yours. Mine is an ensuite.” She nods her head. “And here is where you’ll be staying.” I push the door open to the guest bedroom.
She lets go of my hand and steps inside. It has a queen-sized bed with a white comforter, two light blue side tables, and a matching dresser. I follow behind her and set her duffle bag on the dresser. “What do you think?”
She looks around at the sparsely decorated space and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing one hand over the duvet. A moment later she covers her face and starts to cry.
In a split second, I do the only thing I can think of and sit next to her, pulling her into my lap. She doesn’t hesitate to straddle me and immediately shoves her face into the crook of my neck.
I wrap one hand around her waist and use the other to make a soothing circular motion on her back as she continues to cry. “Shhh. I’ve got you. Get it all out.”
She continues to sob, her shoulders shaking as she buries herself further into me. It takes a few minutes, but she finally pulls back, wiping at her tear-stained eyes. “I’ve never felt more embarrassed in my life. This is the second time you’ve seen me cry and twice that you’ve had to save me.” She uses the sleeve of her sweater to wipe under her nose in possibly the cutest gesture I’ve ever seen. “I don’t know how you can put up with all my crap at this point. Even I’m exhausted from it.”
I push her hair off her face and cradle her head in both my hands, rubbing her cheeks with my thumbs. “Shit happens, and sometimes we need to let other people take care of us to get through it. The last few weeks have been terrible…”
“The last few years,” she whispers so quietly I almost don’t catch it.
“... But you are so strong for standing on your own. I think you can put your pride aside and let me take care of you. Just until your apartment is ready.” The words taste like acid on my tongue. Because she’s been in my space for only a few minutes, and I already know I want to take care of her for longer than two weeks.
There’s also a huge elephant in the room that she’s unaware of. This house, my identity, the job: it’s all fake. And she can’t find out about it. Otherwise, she’ll be in danger. Something I can’t… won’t let happen.
This whole situation is fucked.
She lightly wraps her hands around my wrists and nods. “Okay. I’ll stay. But only until my apartment is fixed.”
I search her forest green eyes, once again blindingly bright from crying, and smile. “Good.” I want to kiss her right now. I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I want her, but I won’t push that boundary, especially with how vulnerable she is at the moment.
It’s then that she adjusts herself on my lap and I know she can feel my growing erection between her thighs. I choke back a groan and move my hands from her face to her hips, stopping her movement. “I think I should make you dinner.”
Her eyes widen slightly and then she nods. “Yeah, right. Dinner,” she mutters. And I can’t tell if it’s a look of disappointment or relief that crosses her face.
If I don’t move her soon, I’m going to do something we’re both going to regret. I want this woman more than she wants me. And I’m going to need to do a lot more to get her to trust me than a few half-assed dates and offering her a place to stay.
I easily lift her off my lap and make sure she’s steady on her feet before I take her by the hand and lead her to thekitchen. “How do you feel about chicken fettuccine alfredo?” I ask, pulling ingredients from the fridge and cupboards.
She slides onto a stool at the kitchen island. “That sounds amazing. Can I help you with anything?”
I look over my shoulder and smirk at her. “Not a chance. I’m not letting you cook on our third date.” And I wink so she knows I’m kidding.
“You’re shameless,” she chuckles.
