“Huh?” I swallowed. “I heard a noise.”
“Just me.” He winked, knowing full-well what he was doing.
I was barely resisting him in uniform. But nearly naked? That was decidedly harder.
“I’ll be inside in a minute. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I almost didn’t hear him, too distracted by the ripples of muscles running across his stomach, taut and defined, as if they’d been sculpted from stone. There were eight.
Eight.
The man had an eight-pack.
His shoulders were broad, leading down to chiseled biceps that were massive. I’d seen them strain against his shirts, but seeing them bare was something else entirely. I couldn’t help but blatantly ogle him.
He stalked toward me, cocky smile in place, sweat dripping down his body, causinghis olive skin to gleam. The gold chain around his neck was almost my undoing.
As he got closer, I caught a whiff of his scent.
Even his sweat smelled good.
“You’re staring, Ellie girl,” he whispered, his eyes roaming over me.
My cheeks burned. “No,” I lied. My shoulders squared as I tried to look unaffected. “I don’t remember you asking if it was okay if you turned my garage in to a gym.”
He chuckled. “My mistake. I should’ve ran it by you. Is it a problem?”
“No,” I said weakly.
I rarely used my garage for anything more than housing a few totes full of Christmas decorations.
“Good to know.” His smile grew. “You seem distracted.”
Distracted didn’t even scratch the surface. I was ensnared. I was trapped. He was quicksand—and I was sinking.
I only knew one way to fight this losing battle—and that was to walk away.
So I did, without another word.
On the fifth day, he cooked.
I hadn’t realized his schedule was two days on, two days off. But since he’d appointed himself my live-in bodyguard, I found myself spending more time holed up in my bedroom than ever before—leaving for work early, staying late. Part of it was because of Dominic, but mostly it was because work was one of the only places I still felt in control.
Since the incident with my car, nothing else had happened. No more notes, no weird flowers, no photos. Nothing. I was starting to think the whole thing had been blown out of proportion. Maybe it had been the interns, who eventually realized their pranks had gone too far. Or maybe someone else with the same make and model as my car had pissed off the wrong ex. Either way, it was starting to seem like whatever had been happening was over.
When I walked in, my house smelled amazing. It smelled familiar. It smelled like the house Dominic grew up in.
“Hey,” he called out casually. Like this was normal.
“Hi,” I replied.
“Hungry?”
I would’ve lied, but then my stomach growled loudly, answering for me.
“What did you make?”
“Barbacoa. My dad’s recipe.”
