Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(64)

He eased up beside her and lay down, letting her snuggle into his chest as he wrapped an arm around her. “No. Not at all. I come to you free of ex-wives or psychotic ex-girlfriends.”

Savannah grinned, tracing the line of one of his chest tattoos. “What about the friend with benefits I saw you with at the concert? She doesn’t have a claim? Or think she does?”

“Hell no,” he said so quickly she laughed. “That was . . . that was just . . . pretty much what you said. Friends with benefits. I hadn’t seen her in weeks before that night. I still hate that you saw her there.”

“It’s all right. She was hot, I gotta hand it to you.”

“You’re hot.”

She’d been told that before and, depending on her mood, even believed it, but somehow she was able to believe it a little bit more when he said it.

It was all very disturbing.

“You know,” she said, grabbing desperately for a change of subject, “I’m not exactly off work today. I could be, but I need to get up and make some phone calls.”

“I don’t want to keep you from work. You go if you need to, babe. I can entertain myself.” He kissed her forehead, immediately making her want to do nothing but stay in bed with him all day while the rain pattered down and thunder rattled her windows.

But there were things to do. “Let me go find out,” she said, lifting her head to give him several smooches before slipping away. She had to stop at the door, though, and cast one glance back.

Damn, he looked good in her bed, the white sheet wrapped around his narrow hips, his shredded arms popping and abs rippling as he laced his hands behind his head and grinned at her. He knows he looks good in my bed, she thought. “Oh look,” she said, grasping Oscar off her dresser and tossing the bear to him. “Say hi to your friend. He missed you too.”

“Oscar the Ninth!” He laughed, catching Oscar easily. “You haven’t been doing your job keeping her happy, dude.”

She giggled. Now the scene in her bed was really complete: a sexy naked man holding a teddy bear. Before she ended up attacking him again, she blew him a kiss and reluctantly tore her gaze away.

Savannah wasn’t one to miss work without good reason, so there were few questions when she claimed a bad night and lack of sleep—it was the truth, and her coworkers knew she’d been having a hard time. Tasha was more than happy to take one of her appointments, and she delegated a couple of others to a newer therapist who was working to build her clientele. Savannah’s was burgeoning; she could afford to share. It looked like she would get her day off after all.

Feeling lighter than she had in days, she put coffee on and surveyed her fridge for something she could make for breakfast. If he was hitting the gym hard, he most likely wanted copious amounts of protein. She had eggs and veggies, so she could probably make a suitable omelet.

“I smell that,” he called from her bedroom after the coffee had been brewing for a few minutes.

“Interested?” she called back.

“Very.”

And so they found themselves eating omelets and drinking coffee in bed, watching the morning news on her little TV across the room. Rain likely all day, the forecast said. To her, it sounded like heaven. Sitting cross-legged in her nightshirt with fuzzy thigh-high socks on (Mike had laughingly told her those were sexy as hell), Savannah leaned over to feed him a bite off her fork after daring him he couldn’t take the heat of the liberal amount of Cajun hot sauce she’d poured over hers. Poor guy, he’d called her on it, and now he was going to suffer.

“Goddamn, woman, what is that shit? Fucking jet fuel?”

She tossed her head back and laughed as he sucked in air like a man near suffocation. “Told ya you couldn’t take it.”

He scrubbed at his lips and coughed, the big tough guy. “I didn’t know you were literally trying to poison me.”

Swallowing a huge bite and smiling at him, she pointed at him with her fork. “You wouldn’t last five minutes at dinner with my family. You’d be sweating and pouring ice water directly down your throat. And that would only make it worse.”

“Seriously, what is that? Ghost pepper?”

“Habanero, you weenie.”

“All right. I’ve been effectively emasculated.” He cringed. “Jesus, it’s getting worse.”

Laughing, she took mercy on him. “Do you want some milk? It might help.”

“No,” he said miserably, lying back on his pillow. Then he writhed again. “Motherf*cker, Savannah. How do you have any taste buds left?”

“I probably don’t, that’s why I need it. Hang on.” She left him sweating it out to get a glass of milk and a slice of bread from the kitchen, both of which he consumed in record time. “Stick with me and eventually you’ll have a flame-retardant throat too,” she told him as he began to settle down somewhat.

“Don’t come near me ever again,” he said with mock anger, and she could only laugh harder. She wouldn’t tell him the story about eating spicy crawfish with the aforementioned boyfriend and, not thinking, later indulging in a little oral activity after which she spent the rest of the night sitting in a tub full of cold water near tears. It might give him ideas for revenge, and hot sauce didn’t only burn the mouth.

“It’s like Satan himself stuck his f*cking dick down my throat.”