“I’m helping you. You’ve had a long week, and I got you up early for this cut. It’s the least I can do.”
“No.” I shake my head, stand, set my food on the counter, and reach around his massive frame for the broom, but somehow my hand ends up on his bicep.
His big, strong, bulging bicep… and my thighs clench.
Why do my thighs clench?
Slowly, my gaze draws up to his, and there we stand, eye to eye, nearly chest to chest, the warmth of his enormous frame radiating off of him and onto me with a type of comfort I’ve never felt before.
My heart hammers against my ribcage, my mouth drops open, and for a brief second, I want to lean in. I want to lean in and let him give me everything I’ve been needing, everything I’ve been struggling for, everything I’ve been craving, but that can’t happen.
I’m engaged to be married. I have a son. I’m at work.
Whatever is happening has to stop right here, right now.
Chapter Two
Wade
I’ve known that something is off for a while now. It’s not that Sara’s ever talked about her relationship with Pete. If anything, she avoids the topic altogether. It’s the way she answers questions that tells the story, the way she responds to my suggestions, the way she responds to my comfort. It’s as though she’s hungry for calm, starved for reassurance, craving genuine touch.
I stare toward her, blonde hair resting on her shoulders, blue eyes still red from tears, round breasts tightly bound in the sweater dress she’s wearing. My palms itch to pull her in close and make whatever shit’s running through her mind go away. It’s not a feeling I commonly have, so it throws me off for a minute, forcing me to stay lost in the moment.
“I reckon you should finish that breakfast. A full stomach can help a lot of things.” I land my hand on her shoulder then pull it away quickly. As much as I wish she were, she’s not mine to protect. She can’t be.
Standing to get away from temptation, I grab the broom she was reaching for and begin sweeping.
“No, please. It’s my job to do this. I—”
“You’re eating your breakfast. Sit.” I glance back toward her, my gaze focused, my tone deeper than necessary. This isn’tabout control. It’s about care. I want to help her, and I want her to let me.
Friends care about friends. I’m pretty sure I’m not crossing any lines with that, at least that’s what I tell myself.
She reaches toward the broom again. “And you’re supposed to be at work in ten minutes.”
“I will be,” I say, sweeping what I’ve gathered into the electric dustpan against the wall, “but first we’re going to get you set up for the day. What else needs to be done?”
“Nothing,” she glances down, then up again, “I’m completely fine. I don’t have another client until nine, so I’m going to eat this nice breakfast you brought for me and read some of my book.”
I look toward her, trying not to notice the way her mascara has streaked down her cheek again. Whatever the fuck is going on at home, she doesn’t deserve it. “What are you reading?”
“You’d laugh me out of here.”
I offer a faint grin. “I gather it’s one of those girl books then?”
She nods and flashes the cover where some long-haired man with abs holds a woman in a western dress. “Historical westerns. I love the whole no-technology thing. Sometimes I think I was meant for that time instead of this one.”
“What about it sounds so intriguing? I can guarantee you cowboys didn’t look like this in any part of history.”
That gets me a smile. “That’s probably true, but it’s less about the guy and more about the lifestyle. There’s something so simple sounding about a life on a few acres in the middle of nowhere with a big garden, a load of animals, love, and zero technology.”
“So it’s not about the abs and the hair?”
She narrows her brows playfully. “I mean… they don’t hurt, but a lot of it is about love and lifestyle.”
“You could have that now, couldn’t you? A little place out in the woods with Pete.”Even saying his name makes me sick.
“I guess.” She shrugs. “I just have to convince Pete that life in the country is better than apartment living. He really likes not having to mow a lawn.”
