Fall (VIP #3)(95)

“Stells?” It had better be her. I really don’t want to consider anyone else creeping in here or why they would.

A slim form slips out of the gloom. Stella’s bright curls are the color of rust in the darkness as she comes up to the side of my bed. “Hey,” she whispers.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper back. “Do you want Hank to neuter me?”

Her snort is a ghost of sound. “He’s not going to neuter you.”

“Oh, yes he is. He distinctly said he’d rip my balls off and feed them to me if I laid an untoward hand on you.”

“Untoward?” She laughs at me. “Why, Mr. Darcy, how gallant of you to protect my honor.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “You know what I mean.”

Stella inches closer, and the floor creaks loudly. I swear, I jump out of my skin. I glace at the door. Thank God she at least had the sense to shut it.

In the gloom, her smile is a glint of white teeth. “Hank said no such thing. I saw him go straight to his room before you closed the door to the den for the night.”

“Oh, he said it all right,” I mutter. “He said it with that death glare he’s been giving me. Trust me, his message was received loud and clear, little miss detective.”

“Even if he did, that’s ridiculous. I’m a grown woman. Do you have any idea how archaic it is to put us in separate rooms?”

“Yes. And I agree one hundred percent about you being a woman grown, fully capable of making her own decisions. But I’m a guest in his house, so out you go, love.” I make a shooing motion toward the door.

Her snort says I’m being ridiculous. Of course, it isn’t her ass in danger of being annihilated by an angry ex-combat pilot. I know this because Hank told me stories, being sure to include how he knows guys who can make people disappear. I’m only half certain he was joking.

“He’s not even my father, for crying out loud.”

“Tell that to Hank.” I hold up a quick hand. “In the morning.”

Her thighs press against the mattress, gleaming white and bare, and, oh fuck me, I can smell the perfume of her skin. She’s so close, all I have to do is reach out and slip my hand between her legs.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Have a heart, Stells. I’m trying to be good.”

“I know. It’s really annoying.”

I husk out a quiet laugh. “Go back to bed, you brat.”

She grins, leaning in a little, her face a pale moon hovering above me. “I can’t sleep.”

I have something to make you sleep better. No, wait, that’s a horrible quip; women don’t want to be put to sleep while you’re fucking them, you moron.

I run a hand over my eyes and try to clear my thoughts. “Why can’t you sleep? You feeling okay?”

“No. I’m lonely. Can I sleep next to you?”

Next to me, on top of me, under me. As long as you’re with me.

Clearing my throat, I find my voice. “Stella, we’re not having sex.”

“Did I offer?”

I stare up at her because we both know if she gets into this bed, we aren’t keeping our hands off each other. She stares back for a few beats but then relents with a waggle of her brows that makes me laugh. I don’t want her to leave. She’ll take all the joy out of the room.

“Can I get in, or what?” She’s all tumbled curls, big pleading eyes, and pouty lips. How am I supposed to resist? I’m not sure why I’m even trying. I can worry about dying tomorrow.

Grumbling, I scoot over and lift the covers. Stella scrambles in. Instantly, my bed is a better place, filled with her soft, warm, wiggling body. And I do mean wiggling. She reminds me of a puppy as she burrows under the covers and claims a spot as close to me as she can get. I laugh softly and slide an arm under her neck, bringing her head onto my shoulder.

Stella rests her hand on my chest and sighs. “That’s better.”

Understatement. Smiling, I press my lips to the top of her head. “Comfortable?”

“Yes.” She wiggles again, and the pullout couch screeches in protest.

“Shhh!” I swear, I’m freaking sweating. “Quiet.”

Stella rolls her eyes. “My God, you’re acting like an agitated cat.”

I glare down my nose at her. “Did you not notice the actual swords hanging over our heads right now?” Hank has a collection of them. Along with a fair number of hunting knives. He made sure to show them to me.

Her cheeks plump. “They’re only for decoration.”

“Uh-huh. Sure, they are. Tell me, Button, you ever bring a guy over here? Are their bodies buried in the garden?”

“You’re the first. But I’ll be sure to tell your story if you don’t make it out.”

“Your concern is touching. Really.”

Stella softly laughs, a breath of sound that makes my heart trip. Yes, my freaking heart is fluttering over a laugh. I seriously don’t recognize myself. And I don’t care.

“You’re really going to end the friend service?” The words are out of my mouth without forethought.

Her fingers tense and press into my chest before relaxing. “I love helping people, making them feel less lonely.” A light breath gusts across my skin. “But it’s getting to the point where my job makes me feel lonely. I’m starting to resent it, and that’s never good.”