I shook my head. “No, but I really need a hot shower.”
One ebony brow arched, and he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs. “Is that purely informational or is that an invitation?”
My lips curled into a smile completely on their own at the same time a shiver rushed down my spine. How could the man make just one sentence sound devilish? “That depends,” I answered slowly. “Are you very dirty?”
Brock was on his feet in an instant, stalking towards me until he was close enough to grab me and toss me over his shoulder. “There’s just one way to find out.”
I knew then that I was in over my head.
Chapter 12
Brock
The minute I woke up with Sela’s curves pressed against the side of my body, one curvy leg draped over mine, and her hair fanned over the pillow and half of my face, I knew I was in trouble. The first sign? The fact that I was still in her bed. The fact that my arms were wrapped around her like she was mine. The fact that I wasn’t searching for a way to slip out unnoticed.
None of my usual post-sex behavior.
But then I did ease my way out of her bed, albeit reluctantly. She looked so soft in sleep. Her full lips were tugged into the barest hint of a smile as if she was dreaming about our night together. Maybe that was just wishful thinking, but in that moment, all I wanted was to do something nice for her. The expression on her face when I made breakfast was one I wouldn’t soon forget. She moaned and snuggled deeper into the blankets, so I hitched them up over her shoulders, dressed, and ventured out into the cold Thanksgiving morning.
I was halfway to the bakery before I realized that it was a holiday and everything might be closed. Luckily, the Mt. Holiday Bakery sign was lit and tugged me closer until I was hit with the scent of caffeine, sugar, and butter. “I love this place.”
“And that’s what I love to hear!” Nix smiled at me over the counter. “Happy Thanksgiving, Brock! What can I get you?”
I tapped my chin and scanned the specials board, smiling at all the Thanksgiving-themed treats. “Let’s go with two of all the specials and a to-go carafe of coffee.”
Her brows shot up. “Going all out for Sela’s birthday?”
My brows dipped. “When is her birthday?”
She stared at me a little longer and then tilted her head to one side. “Oh, honey.” She shook her head and poured a mug of coffee. “Drink this and let me handle it.”
It was Sela’s birthday, and she hadn’t said a word. Why?Because you’re basically strangers?That was a fair point, but I had a feeling it was more than that.
“Okay,” Nix began as she moved to the flat surface beside the cash register. “This is a pumpkin carrot cake with rum buttercream frosting. It’s not Sela’s favorite, but she’ll love it. There are candles in this bag along with your other order. Good luck.”
I stared at her, stunned that she would do all this. “But why?”
“Because Sela has a complicated conversation with her birthday. The holiday means she’s usually forgotten about, and now that her parents are off having retirement adventures… it’s just difficult for her. I think you’ve been good for her.”
My brows shot up. “Why would you think that?” I wasn’t good for anyone because I never let my heart get involved. Not anymore.
She laughed. “Because I know you. I know Sela. You’ve been burned, and you’re overly cautious, but you’re a good guy, Brock. Plus, I’m not the only one who’s seen the spark between you two.”
Heat crept up my face, and suddenly my collar and my jacket felt uncomfortable. I shook my head and opened my mouth, but no words came out.
“It’s all right. I don’t need you to say anything, well other than Happy Birthday to Sela. Have fun and let yourself believe a little.”
Let yourself believe.Nix’s words stayed with me on the short walk back to Sela’s place. Let myself believe inwhat? That Sela and I could be different than every other relationship we’ve both ever had? That it wouldn’t end in absolute horror and heartbreak? That was asking too much.
Right?
I shook off thoughts of the worst-case scenario of my relationship—was it a relationship—with Sela, and jogged up the steps with full hands. I wanted to surprise her properly, so I tapped the front door with my foot and waited.
And waited.
Eventually, the door opened, and there she was, with wet hair, a towel wrapped around her body, and a shocked smile on her face. “Brock? Your note said you were going to get coffee, not groceries.”
“Not exactly groceries.” I stepped inside and made a straight line to her kitchen, where I fought off images of the first time I had Sela. The taste and the feel of her wereright thereat the forefront of my mind. I set down the boxes and turned. “More like a morning feast to say Happy Thanksgiving. And Happy Birthday.”
