Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale)(32)

“I like you too,” he blurted out, his heart bursting at the sweetness of her words and ignoring the voice of caution in his head that reminded him he wasn’t supposed to fall for her. “The woman I was talking about on the phone? I’m not romantically involved with her. She’s . . . family.”

“Oh!” said Verity, blinking at him in surprise. “Oh. I didn’t know . . .”

Colton nodded. “She has seizures from time to time. Had a bad one tonight.”

“Oh my God!” she said, the pressure of her fingers increasing slightly with her worry. “I’m so sorry.”

“I missed the calls from her, um, her caregiver because I was getting ready for dinner, and—”

“And you felt bad about that.”

He nodded. “She doesn’t have anyone else.”

Her shoulders slumped with compassion. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s sedated now and sleeping soundly, but I need to go check on her first thing in the morning.”

“Maybe you should go now.”

He shook his head. “No. She’s asleep now. I’d be going for me—for my guilt—not for her.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” she said gently.

“You wouldn’t feel guilty? If Ryan was alone and in pain and you weren’t there?”

She flinched, looking down. “I would.”

“Then you understand.”

“Yes . . . but there’s nothing you can do now. She’s being cared for. She’s asleep. You’ll go in the morning. You’ll figure out a way to make it okay.”

Her words were a sweet balm to his troubled heart, and he was grateful for them. He cocked his head to the side. “So you’re not good at sharing, huh?”

Her eyes flared as a sudden flush of bright red stained her cheeks. She whimpered softly, letting her hands slide from his face and dropping his eyes. He still held her around the waist, but she no longer leaned against him. Forlornly she stared down at the place where her breasts brushed his chest.

“Verity?”

“You must think I’m . . . Oh God, I told you I liked you . . . ” She huffed softly, raising her eyes to his throat as the color in her cheeks deepened. “I . . . I practically threw myself at you . . . saying I can’t be casual or have a fling . . . like I’m looking for some big commitment.” She groaned, shaking her head. “This is only our first date! Oh God, you must think I’m desperate and needy and—”

He tightened his arms around her waist. “Look at me, Verity Gwynn.” He could tell how much courage it took for her to meet his eyes, and when she did, her entire face was the color of ripe strawberries. “You didn’t throw yourself at me. You didn’t ask for a commitment. You said you didn’t want a fling, and you know what? Neither do I. You said you like me, and the truth is that I like you too.” His lips wobbled, and he let them tilt up into a small grin because he knew how much she needed one, and he couldn’t help it anyway. Verity Gwynn embarrassed was off-the-charts appealing. “Far as I can tell, baby? We don’t have a problem.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “‘Baby’?”

He shrugged. “You mind?”

“No,” she whispered. She searched his face for a moment before letting herself grin back, the sight of those sweet dimples making his heart soar. “But I think you’re taking it easy on me.”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead and lingering there for a moment before drawing away, his own happy grin still solidly in place because she wasn’t leaving and she liked him and she wasn’t looking for a fling. “So what? Go ahead and let me.”

***

“I haven’t had steak in ages,” she said, smiling at him across the table as she cut another mouthwatering piece of perfectly grilled steak and savored it, closing her eyes and humming as she chewed. “Mmmmm.”

“I’m never making you steak again, woman,” he said darkly.

Her eyes popped open, and she giggled. “Why not?”

“Because you’re killing me with those little noises.”

Her cheeks warmed as if on command, and she reached for her wineglass, taking a sip as she watched him over the rim.

It had surprised her before, when they were on the steps, that he hadn’t kissed her. She’d expected him to. She’d all but given him permission. But after a fairly chaste kiss on the forehead, he’d taken her hand and led her to the table, pouring them each a glass of wine and asking her how she liked working at TLOC as he flipped the steaks on the grill.

They’d talked about work for a little while, and, to her relief, he voluntarily answered her question from earlier in the day.

“This afternoon you asked if I’d ever dated anyone at work.”

“I was just wondering,” she said, feeling sheepish.

“I did date someone. But it wasn’t serious, and it didn’t last long.”

“Is she still there?” Verity asked him, crossing her fingers under the table.

He shook his head. “Nope. She took another job in Vegas a while back.”

And Lord, but she’d smiled at him after that. He was free and she was free. And they liked each other. Things this good didn’t generally happen to Verity Gwynn. And suddenly, here, now, something good was happening.