Wel , that took the wind right out of my sails and for some reason it hurt, just a little bit (okay, so it hurt a lot). I thought he’d want to know. I wanted him to want to know and furthermore, I was ready to tel him.
Before I could hide my face and my disappointment his mouth came to mine.
“I want you to show me,” he said there.
I looked into his dark eyes, close up and even in the moonlight I knew they were burning into mine.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Then I did as he asked.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Quick Could Be Good
The phone was ringing and my eyes opened.
I knew it was the dead of night and in the nanosecond before he moved, I knew I had a big time contender for Number One Most Favorite Sleeping Position with Vance.
On my bel y, one leg crooked, Vance pressed into my back, leg bent into mine, arm around me.
Seriously nice
He disengaged gently and rol ed away to pick up the phone.
“Yeah?” I heard, pause, “right.”
When I heard the phone hit the cradle, I turned. “What was that?”
Vance’s arms came around me and he settled on his back, me in his side (just for your information, I liked this as a cuddle position but it was in the lower half of the top five as a sleeping position).
“They got Shard.”
Hallelujah, I thought.
“No more panic button?” I asked.
“You keep the panic button.”
My head came up. “Why?”
“Humor me.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve made enemies and captured attention.
Until we hear no talk on the street, I want to know you’re safe.”
I supposed I could do that.
I settled in, ready to go back to sleep, so ready in fact that I didn’t realize Vance’s body had gone tight.
“You gonna do this for me?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied as if that was a given.
After a few minutes ticked by, his body relaxed and he said, “Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Am not,” I mumbled sleepily into his shoulder.
His hand came up and started to play with my hair.
I fel asleep.
*
I woke up with the alarm and Vance wasn’t in bed but I heard the shower going. There was no Boo either.
I hit the off button on the alarm and searched for my nightgown and underwear that Vance had divested me of the night before. I struggled to put them on in a lying position which was not easy. After I succeeded I slid off the bed platform.
I walked to the kitchen.
Boo’s breakfast bowl was down and had already been licked clean.
I looked at the coffeemaker. There was a pot at the ready.
I walked into the living room. Boo was lying on my chaise lounge, cleaning his face. He didn’t even spare me a glance much less a good morning kitty meow. He was sated and preparing for his morning nap.
I walked back into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee.
Then I stood with my hips against the counter, coffee cup aloft, staring into space, wondering how my world had turned on its head in a week and four days.
I had a boyfriend who fed my cat, made coffee, had a kickass job, took care of me, was great in bed and was hot. I had a family of friends looking out for me, cal ing me and wanting to spend time with me. They even got mad at me when I tried to go to the mal alone.
This freaked me out, in a good way.
My pug nestled up to me and decided he wanted to play just as Vance walked out of the bathroom, chest bare, black hair wet and slicked back and one of my mint-green, Egyptian cotton towels wrapped around his hips.
My mouth went dry.
He walked toward me, got in my space, dodging the coffee cup I didn’t move, put his hands on either side of my neck and touched his lips to mine.
“Mornin’ Princess,” he said, not moving out of my space.
“Thanks for feeding Boo.”
He grinned and dropped his hands to my waist.
“Thanks for making coffee,” I went on.
He kept grinning.
“You done in the bathroom?” I asked.
He nodded.
I put the unsipped coffee on the counter, skirted around him and went to bathroom. I brushed and flossed then washed my face.
I left the bathroom and went in search of Vance.
He wasn’t hard to find considering I only had three rooms in the house (three and a half, if you counted the bed platform). He was sitting on my couch, clothed in the outfit he had on yesterday, pul ing on his boots.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, staring at him.
“Puttin’ on my boots,” he replied, looking up at me.
I blinked. “You wore that yesterday,” I said.
“Yeah,” he pul ed on the second boot and stood.
“If you’re going to stay here you should keep some clothes here.”
Now, why did I just say that?
I was going to freak him out. He was going to think I loved him or something.
I, of course, did love him but he didn’t know that or at least I didn’t think he knew that. Now he’d think I was a clingy, stalker, psycho bitch-from-hel and moving too fast and I was going to scare him off.
Shit.
“Al right,” he said.
I blinked again. “Did you say ‘al right’?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he replied.