Her Forever Hero (Unexpected Heroes #3)(13)

“I showed more restraint last night than could be expected of any mortal man. Now, if you want to thank me properly . . .” he said, with enough of a growl that her stomach was now flipping for reasons that had nothing to do with food.

“I need privacy,” she managed to squeak out, but was afraid to move even an inch as his scent enveloped her, making her realize if he were to touch her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep from grabbing him.

“As you wish,” he said, backing off immediately, picking up his cup, and sauntering out of her room.

Breathing deeply, she lay there until she felt that her body was safely under control, then finally flipped back the covers and climbed out of bed. She couldn’t wake up to Cam. It was far too hard on her hormones.

Stepping into her bathroom, she decided a shower was in order. As hungry as she was, she hadn’t washed her hair in a while, and until she scrubbed every inch of her poor body, she wasn’t going to feel as if she’d beaten the cold that had dragged her down for days.

After she dried off, she peeked in her bedroom—no, Cam wasn’t there—then walked over to her closet and selected a warm outfit. Style, for once, wasn’t on her mind.

Now clean, clothed, and craving food, she couldn’t put off seeing Cam any longer. She emerged from her bedroom and found him sitting at the table, reading her newspaper.

The phone rang before she could say anything. Stepping over, she picked it up and then immediately regretted that decision.

“What can I do for you, Kitty?” she said, trying to have patience. The woman had been her client only for a few days and already Grace was wondering how she was going to get through this wedding. At least she wasn’t drawing the event out for a year.

“What did you just say?” Grace wasn’t sure she’d heard the woman correctly. But when she repeated it, Grace wanted to slap her.

After a few moments she finally hung up the phone and then was even more grouchy than when she’d come down the stairs, therefore poor Cam was about to get the brunt of her anger.

“Make yourself right at home,” she said with a scowl before moving to the coffeepot and pouring herself a fresh cup.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he murmured, unaffected by her ill mood.

She sat down, refusing to serve herself yet. That would excuse his behavior. Where in the world had all the groceries come from? She was really a boxed-food kind of gal—who had the time or the energy to cook whole meals? Boring . . . Baking, on the other hand, she absolutely loved to do.

“What was that phone call about? You seem upset,” he finally said.

“That was my client from hell,” she murmured.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he said.

“Really?” she gasped. “She was just telling me that her grandmother just had the gall to die on her and so now her seating chart was all messed up. She’s demanded a meeting this afternoon to get it fixed.”

Cam sat there, his eyes widening as he looked at her as if trying to figure out if she was speaking the truth or not. When she said nothing more, his lips twitched and then he laughed out loud.

“Okay, then. I think you’re right. She just might be the biggest bridezilla I’ve ever heard about.”

They both continued sitting there in silence for several more moments, and Grace’s stomach rumbled. Dang it! She really wanted to eat, but weren’t they in a standoff at the moment?

“Are you going to be so stubborn that you’re not going to eat after I went shopping and then was kind enough to prepare breakfast?”

“Are you going to be so needy for compliments that you’re going to beg for them and puff up your own worth? Look, I didn’t ask you to do that. I didn’t ask you to do any of this,” she told him.

“I know. However, I like taking care of you. You’re one of the strongest women I know, Grace, and it’s been nice to catch you in a weak moment,” he said, his voice soft, although he didn’t look up from the paper.

“So you’re one of those guys that like weak, simpering little females who can’t do anything without a big, strong man around the house?”

“Not at all. I love your strength, but a truly strong person also knows when it’s time to ask for a little help, to ask when she needs a shoulder to cry on, and to ask when she’s so weak she can’t even feed herself,” he told her, finally setting the paper down and sending her an intense stare.

“I was doing just fine on my own.”

“Yes, you were, and I’m sure you would have woken up today, still weak, but able to get moving again. It was still my pleasure to be here for you.” If only he had been there for her the one time in her life she had needed him the most. But she would never say that to him. That wasn’t a can of worms she was ready to open, one she probably never would be.

“I don’t like people taking care of me.”

“I’ll make sure to not do it too often,” he said with a laugh, holding up his hands. “Do you want a little of everything?” He stood up and moved over to the oven, where he began pulling out dishes he’d placed in there to keep the food warm.

“I can get it myself.”

“Then you won’t be surprised by what I’ve made you. Enjoy your coffee and be awed by my culinary talents.” With that, he grabbed two plates and piled them high. He set hers in front of her, then went to the fridge and pulled out a bowl of fresh-cut fruit and set it out, too.