Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)(83)

“Wha…?” I started as he stepped inside, sweeping past me before I could bar him from entering.

He turned back to me, grinning, as he held up a grocery sack. “I come bearing gifts this time.”

“Why did you come back?” I uttered. This made no sense. “If you think anything in that sack is going to make me change my mind—”

“Oh, no. No! Hell no.” He lifted his hand and shook it before backing away from me. “Trust me, I want no part of that. Jesus.” He shuddered for emphasis before pulling a handful of chocolate bars from his grocery sack. “I brought pick-me-ups.” When I only frowned at him, more confused than ever, he caught my gaze and asked, “What?”

I shook my head so he sighed and dropped the chocolate back into the bag. “Okay, fine. I know it’s only supposed to be sex between us, and there’s not going to be any nookie tonight.” He rolled his eyes before adding, “But look at it this way. I’m tending to my investment.”

That only confused me more. I squinted. “Huh?”

“Just because there are no flowers blooming in the garden this week, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t still water the soil, you know, so I’ll have a better chance of seeing a nice pretty posey next week.”

“So…you think I’ll forget about you and drop you flat if I don’t see you for a few days?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe. Let’s not test it. So…what’s your poison? The Notebook, Hitch, Dirty Dancing, or Waiting to Exhale?” He pulled each movie from the bag, one after another before he was holding them up in a fan of chick flicks.

I wrinkled my nose. “Eww. None of those. Are you crazy? I’m already a hormonal, emotional wreck and you want to add to that with some romance movie that’s going to make me worse?”

“Umm....” He shoved the movies back into the sack before slowly guessing, “No?”

I shook my head. “No,” I agreed.

His shoulders deflated and the expression on his face reminded me of an abused puppy who’d been kicked too much and had just been tossed out into a miserable, cold rain. Something uncomfortable slithered through me. I couldn’t treat Colton this way.

Letting out a breath, I tipped my head toward the hallway that led to my room. “I have Coming to America on Amazon Prime if you want to watch that on my laptop in my room with me.”

“Coming to America? With Eddie Murphy?” His eyebrows lifted with interest. When I nodded, his lips twitched into a smile. “God, yes, I would love to watch a comedy with you.”

Lunging toward me with a grin, he swept me off my feet, one arm under my knees, the other around my back. I shrieked in surprise and clutched his shoulders. “Colton!”

He froze in the entrance of the hallway, his eyes widening. “Oh, shit. Sorry. Did that jostle your ovaries too much or something? Are you okay?” He promptly set me back down on my feet, as gently as possible.

I stared at him a moment before bursting out laughing. “Jostle my ovaries?” I wheezed between giggles. “Oh my f*cking God, what?”

Sniffing, he picked me back up and started toward my room once again. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe shaking a woman too much during that time of the month hurts stuff, you know, down there.”

I cracked off another laugh, tears streaming down my cheeks, and had to hide my face in his shirt to muffle how loud I was giggling. But shaking a woman? “Oh God, you’re too funny. Where the hell did you come up with that idea? And exactly what do you think happens to us during our periods?”

“I think the lining of your uterus peels off because the egg you dropped earlier in the month wasn’t fertilized, and since there’s no baby to nurture, it all flushes out of you in a painful, bloody mess, f*cking with all your hormones and emotions along the way. Why would I not think shaking that shit up might make it worse?”

I pressed my lips together to keep from blurting out another laugh because his thought process actually kind of made sense. “Well, shaking us doesn’t hurt us at any time of the month.”

“Good to know.” He nodded seriously as he entered my room.

I couldn’t help but study his face as he set me gently on my bed. Shaking my head, I mused, “I can’t believe you’re so blasé about this. Every guy I’ve ever known has freaked out when the menstrual subject is even mentioned.”

“It’s just biology.” He shrugged while busying himself with pulling back the covers on my mattress before draping them over me and tucking me in nice and snug. “Every woman deals with it. Both my sisters, every girlfriend I ever had, even female teachers. Not sure what all those other idiot guys find so freaky about it?”

“Oh, maybe the fact that a woman can get downright homicidal during this time of the month.”

“Only if the dude handles the situation all wrong.” After fluffing my pillows and stacking them so I could sit upright against them, he helped me lean back before he turned away and spotted my laptop.

I watched him fetch it and carry it back to the bed, then open it and set it on my lap. He seemed to pause and run through a mental checklist through his head, then he asked, “Which candy do you want me to bring back? I brought chocolate of just about every variety, Skittles, Starbursts, Atomic Fireballs, Sour Patch Kids…”