The Look of Love (The Sullivans #1)(5)

As she waited for him on the porch, one hand holding her bag, the other placed over her right cheek again, Chase had to wonder why she was always hiding her cheek like that.

He had a bad feeling about it.

Knowing it wouldn’t help her feel any more comfortable around him if he was scowling at her, he worked to focus, instead, on the way the porch light bathed her in a faint glow. Making a mental note to set up some shots with the models the following evening right where she was standing, he walked up the steps and headed for the front door.

“Let’s go inside and warm up.”

He held the door open for her and she murmured, “At least your mother taught you one thing,” as she moved past him.

Chloe’s scent wrapped itself around him again and it was a hit of potent sensuality. Problem was, she was a gorgeous woman and he was a man who adored gorgeous women. But then her bag bumped against the door frame, pushing her hips into his groin, and he barely stifled his groan in time.

Jesus, if he didn’t know better, if she were any other woman, he’d think she’d done that on purpose. But given the way she all but threw herself across the room and away from him, he knew there was nothing intentional about her effect on him.

It had been nearly a month since Chase had had sex, but his body was reacting to Chloe like it had been a year, like he was fourteen again and hiding out in the girls’ locker room while the cheerleading team changed.

He smiled, thinking about that afternoon. Hell yeah, it had been good to be fourteen that day. Definitely one of Ryan’s better ideas.

A gust of wind blew rain up on the porch and Chase closed the door and moved inside, where Chloe was standing awkwardly next to the kitchen island.

He moved slowly into the room and worked to keep his eyes from devouring her. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head, her hand still over her cheek.

“You’re hurt.” It wasn’t a question. “Let me take a look at your face.”

She tried to take a step back but the granite counter held her where she was. “No,” she said, “I’m fine.”

He could see how hard she was trying to be tough and strong. But didn’t she get it? He was right here offering to help her. Not moving slowly this time, not bothering to make sure he didn’t spook her, he crossed to her and put his hand over hers.

The first touch had both of them sucking in a breath and he swore her pupils dilated a split second before she wrenched out of his grip.

“I knew I shouldn’t have come here with you,” she said as she began to rush across the room.

But Chase was faster, pulling her into his arms before she could get away. He was just registering her soft heat, the press of her full br**sts against his chest, the heated vee between her legs that so perfectly cradled his groin, when he saw what she’d been hiding from him.

“Jesus, Chloe, did that happen in the car?”

Her cheek had a huge mottled bruise across it, all the colors of the rainbow with a long scratch through the center. Tears sparkled in her eyes, but they seemed to be more of frustration than due to any pain she was feeling.

“It hasn’t been my best night.”

Yet again, she hadn’t answered his question. But by not saying yes, he figured it was pretty safe to assume the bruise hadn’t been caused by her hitting the steering wheel when her car had landed in the ditch. Any other woman would have been crying, but not this one, even though she’d clearly had some crazy shit happen to her in the last few hours.

“No kidding,” he said softly.

The more he looked at her, the angrier he got about the bruise. He’d fought with his brothers enough times to know that it must hurt like a mother. But he knew better than to make a big deal out of it. He wasn’t going to bruise her pride…not when someone had already done a hell of a job on her face.

“Have you put any ice on it?”

She shook her head and he reluctantly let go of her and moved toward the kitchen.

After filling a plastic bag with ice, he wrapped the whole thing up in a clean, soft kitchen towel. She hadn’t moved from the spot where he’d stopped her from running. He could easily bring her the ice, but he knew it was important that she start to trust him—at least a little—if he was going to be able to help her.

Every instinct he possessed had been screaming out from that first instant he’d spotted her that her damage was a hell of a lot bigger than just losing control of her car in the rain.

Sucked to be right sometimes.

“I don’t bite. I promise.”

The last thing he expected her to do was drop her gaze to his still throbbing groin, raise an eyebrow, and say, “Really?”

Glad to see that any remnant of the tears that hadn’t come were long gone, he let loose his grin at her pointed comment. “What I should have said is, I won’t bite unless—”

She held up a hand to cut him off and finished his sentence in a sarcastic voice. “Unless I want you to.” She said it like she’d heard it a hundred times before. “Whatever. I don’t want you to. Not now. Not ever.” Her words were tired, hard, but she moved toward him. “I’ll take the ice, though.”

He handed it to her and she was starting to thank him when she pressed it against her cheek a little too hard and gasped in pain.

“Here,” he said, “let me.”