Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(46)
“Not if you do the same. It’d be better if she didn’t go anywhere alone, so if you have to leave her, let me know.”
He didn’t plan to budge, but he said, “Got it.” After he disconnected, he checked the meal then went to the bathroom door. He could hear the whir of a blow dryer. After a rap of his knuckles, he said, “Breakfast in five—or will you still be primping?”
The door opened. Wrapped in a towel, one hand holding a round brush in her hair, the other holding the blow dryer, Sahara asked, “What breakfast?”
He couldn’t resist kissing her. She tasted minty and her skin smelled luscious. “Warm raspberry vanilla coffee cake, and strong coffee.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh my God, amazing sex followed by delectable food. Be still my heart.” This time she went on tiptoe to kiss him, and promised, “I’ll be out in five.”
Just to prompt her, he said, “Yeah, right. I’m betting half an hour, at least.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, used her heel to close the door, and he heard the blow dryer come back on.
Grinning, he went back to the kitchen and did a quick job of setting the table. He poured two coffees, set out creamer and sugar, and then removed the coffee cake.
Fragrant steam filled the kitchen area.
He’d just gotten out a knife to cut it when Sahara came breezing around the corner. She carried her shoes and her hair swung loose, but otherwise she looked as put together as ever.
“Under five,” she boasted. “You owe me an apology for doubting me.”
She wore a slim-fitting above-the-knee tan dress with elbow-length sleeves. It hugged her body in all the right places, and now he knew exactly what that body looked like, the scent of her skin, how she responded.
Unable to resist, he put a hand on her waist and drew her in against him. “I like your hair down.” Golden brown, thick, silky soft. He’d like to feel it drifting over his skin.
Over the tops of his thighs. He tamped down on those thoughts.
“Thank you.” Her mouth twisted. “I just didn’t have time to fix it, but honestly, it only takes a few minutes for me to put it up so I still would have made it on time.” Moving past that, she sniffed the air. “That smells amazing.”
He lifted her face for a kiss, appreciating the fact that she wore no lipstick. “Take a seat and I’ll serve you.”
“Such a gentleman,” she teased, perching that sexy ass on the edge of the chair and putting on a pair of heels. Her movements were feminine and somehow arousing.
Down, he told his dick. Much as he enjoyed the private time with her, he was determined not to interfere with her work, and that meant helping to ensure she got to the office at her usual hour.
The second he set the plate in front of her, she dug in, then hummed her appreciation. “Sooo good.”
The look on her face stirred him again. It was getting ridiculous, the over-the-top way he reacted to her. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You know I enjoy pastries in the morning.”
“Not a pastry,” he pointed out. After she’d taken another bite, he said, “It’s actually healthy since it’s made with a lot of grains.”
“No way.”
“And low calorie.”
“That proves it. You’re a magician.”
A crooked smile tugged at his mouth. “Because I can make food taste good without dumping in a pound of sugar?”
The heated look she sent his way nearly destroyed his resolve. “Cooking is just one of your talents.” She sipped her coffee and made more sounds of appreciation. “So I know this might be awkward, but I need to know—will you be here again tonight? You did mention a relationship and I’m hoping it comes with more of these amazing benefits.”
“I’ll be here.”
She nodded. “And tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, too.”
She grinned. “You’re so agreeable, should I keep pushing?”
“No, you should finish eating so I can walk you down.”
That had her face falling. “You’re leaving?”
“Wasn’t really planning on it, but I don’t want to be in your way either.”
“So you have the whole day free?”
As soon as she asked it, his cell rang. After glancing at the screen, he growled, “Maybe not.”
She started to ask, but then her cell rang, too, only she’d left it in the bedroom. She grabbed another quick bite then rushed down the hall to retrieve it.
When she returned a few minutes later, he was still on the phone, and she didn’t offer him privacy, so he turned his back on her. “Becky,” he said into the phone, his voice strained, “the PT is necessary, so stop giving everyone a hard time.”
Becky, his mother, said in a slurred voice, “This blockhead doesn’t understand that I’m in pain. I want him fired.”
He sighed. Odds were the very qualified physical therapist would quit, given Becky’s impossible nature. “You’re not in a facility, you have around-the-clock care and you’re getting better. Why can’t you just be happy with that?”
Her voice rose to a screech. “You expect me to be happy? You dump me here and just wash your hands of me, like—”
“Like you did to me?” When he’d been only five.