It’s been sitting in my drawer since I moved her in. I no longer need to carry around a token if I have the real thing right here, living under my roof.
I stare down at her like a fucking creep. Her long, golden hair fans out across the pillow, soft and almost glowing in the dim morning light. Her lashes rest gently against her cheeks, and she looks almost untouchable. Even in sleep, there’s a quiet strength about her, a pull I can’t fight, which fills me with a mix of longing and frustration.
She looks so peaceful.
So enticing.
So fucking mine, even if that’s just wishful thinking on my part.
Reaching down, I gently brush a lock of hair off her forehead. I take a step back, letting my hand fall away because I need to leave before I fuck things up again.
Chapter 28
Dominic
Iroll onto my back, groaning as I drape my forearm over my face to shield my eyes from the light pouring into the room. I was so bone-tired that when I got out of the shower I didn’t even bother closing the blinds; I just crawled straight into bed and passed out.
I glance over at the clock on my bedside table and see it’s half past ten. “Shit,” I mumble under my breath as I toss back the covers and climb out of bed. I never sleep this late; I have Lil’ Peach to care for.
I grab a pair of faded jeans with rips on both knees off the coat hanger in my wardrobe and slip them on. I have to finish the lawns this morning before the midday sun becomes unbearable.
I’m still zipping them up as I leave the room, and when I hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen, I head in that direction.
“D!” Peach screams the second I step inside. She barrels towards me with her little arms raised, and as soon as she’s close enough, I bend and scoop her up. She squeals when I toss her into the air before hugging her to my chest. Shewraps her arms around my neck, like a koala. “D, sweepy head,” she giggles.
I chuckle as I ruffle her curls, before my eyes automatically search for Emily. She’s by the sink, watching us, her hand pressed to her chest again.
She’s wearingthatlook, the soft one that grips my damn heart in a fist every time I catch it. It’s the kind of look that makes me want things I know I shouldn’t.
“Morning,” she chirps. “I got the supplies. Thank you for doing that, it was very?—”
I frown, holding my hand up, stopping her midsentence. “If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to, then don’t,” I grumble.
She gasps. “What did you think I was going to say? That it was sweet?”
My frown deepens. “I told you not to say it. I’m. Not. Sweet,” I growl, emphasising each word.
“I was actually going to say it was a real arsehole move.”
I bark out a deep laugh. “Liar.”
She arches one of her perfectly sculptured eyebrows. “Can you prove that?” she retorts with so much sass I want to bend her over my knee and spank that sweet arse of hers.
She digs her hand into her pocket and pulls out the Chapstick. “And thanks for this. Caramel is my favourite. I lost the one I used to have, and never got around to replacing it.”
You didn’t lose it; I stole it.
I don’t tell her that, obviously, but I feel like I’ve somewhat redeemed myself by getting her another one.
When she uncaps the Chapstick and glides it over her plump lips, I suck in a sharp breath because I want to kiss that caramel-scented mouth.
I’ve been avoiding Emily wherever I can. We haven’t spoken about what happened the other night. I watch her through the kitchen window as she waters the plants I stole from her last home.
I’ve done some despicable things in my lifetime, but stealing has never been one of them—even during times of desperation—until her. The flowers … the Chapstick.
What’s next, claiming a pair of her lacy underwear off the clothesline and stuffing them under my pillow? I groan at the thought. She’s unknowingly turned me into a fucking kleptomaniac.
Forcing my gaze away from the back yard, I continue rinsing the dishes in the sink and loading them into the dishwasher. Something has to give sooner or later. I can still feel her on my fingertips and taste her on my tongue.
