Page 30 of Mountain Grump Protector

Organizing his shop helped. But it wasn’t much considering what he’s done for me. Still, it makes me feel a little less useless. So instead of overthinking what it meant that we’d finally given in to the building feelings between us, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. A small smile tugs at my lips as the warmth spreads through me.

I have no idea how long this will last, or even what it is, so I might as well enjoy it while I can.

No man has ever made me feel the way Cal does.

Like he wants me. And not what I can give him or what I can do for him.

But like I matter.

And it didn’t stop when we finally came inside last night. We sat on the couch, the dog curled on the floor beside us, and talked like it was the most natural thing in the world. Comfortable.

There’s that word again.

I let my gaze travel to the closed—and locked—bedroom door.

Cal insisted.

Even when I asked him if he’d like to sleep next to me, he’d simply shaken his head and sent me to bed, but not until he’d given me a tender kiss on the forehead.

As if simply thinking about him summoned him, there’s a knock on the door.

“You awake?”

His voice is deep and rough and has the ability to make me feel a fresh spark of desire low in my belly with two simple words.

“I am.”

There’s a moment of hesitation before he says, “The water’s on for tea.”

I consider inviting him into his own bed to wake me up properly, but I already know without asking, he won’t cross that line. I’m not sure why or what it is that’s created the line, but despite my early confusion and frustration with it, now there’s something about Cal’s certainty and steadiness that makes me feel safe and protected in a way I didn’t know I could.

“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll be right there.”

There’s a pause and then a grunt of acceptance before I hear his footsteps head back toward the kitchen.

I dress in another of his oversized shirts, this one tied in a knot under my breasts, and tug on my own cut-off shorts, leaving my hair falling over my shoulders before I join him in the kitchen.

The sight of him standing at the sink, his back to me, nearly knocks the breath out of me all over again, because now I know exactly what’s under that fitted black t-shirt. I’ve run my hands over those hard abs, I felt every inch of his body pressed up against mine, and dammit, if the mere sight of him didn’t reignite every single one of those memories.

He turns slowly, his hair still damp from the shower, a mug in one hand. Those dark eyes lock on me while his lips curl up into a grin.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” I dip my head, suddenly and unexpectedly shy. Heat rushes through me so fast, it’s completely ridiculous considering how this man had me naked, pressed up against a tree, and screaming through my orgasm less than twenty-four hours ago.

His gaze drifts over me before returning to my face. The usual hardness in his gaze has softened into something warmer.

“Did you sleep well?” He hands me the mug he was holding. “Milk and sugar.”

His attention to detail hits me in the chest. “Thank you.” I inhale deeply and let the aroma wash over me. “I slept very well.”

I stop short of adding how much better I would have slept with his arms around me, but something tells me we’re not quite there yet.

Will we ever be?

I take a sip of the hot tea to keep from asking the totally inappropriate question. I swallow and say, “Did you?”

Cal shrugs. “The chair is actually more comfortable than it looks.”