Funny, that hadn’t even occurred to me. And I find I don’t really care for that idea at all. “The nearest hotel is thirty minutes away,” I grumble.
“And you’re okay with me staying here?” she asks, her head quirked to the side, looking at me.
Maybe a little too much, I think to myself.
“Of course. Come on,”
I hop out of my truck and walk around to her car.
I don’t even ask. I open her trunk and remove her duffel bag, then I slam the trunk closed. Before she can open her car door, I pull it open and stop short when I see those familiar doe-eyes looking up at me. Her green eyes have been haunting my dreams.
I take her hand, and we run to my front door.
We hurry inside, and I sit down and remove my boots and smile as Mikayla looks around. My home is nothing fancy. My parents live in the main house, which is far grander than mine. But this is home.
I built this place more than five years ago. It’s just a simple three-bedroom, one and a half bath ranch-style house.
“Want a tour?” I ask. “It’s nothing special.”
“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs,her head tilted back at the high ceilings.
I don’t know why it matters, but I find I really like that she seems to like my home. Mikayla looks around with wide eyes, and I know she’s being genuine.
Mikayla removes her shoes, and then I take her hand and show her around the house.
“It’s all open, but this is the kitchen, the living room and dining room,” I say as we walk to the right side of the house. “This is the powder room,” I say, pointing out the door right outside the living space.
I walk her to the other side of the house, where I have the bedrooms and my office. “It’s not much, but this is your room,” I say, opening the guest room. “We have to share a bathroom, but I promise I’m clean.”
Mikayla gifts me with a smile as I place her bag on the bench at the foot of her bed.
“You hungry, Mikayla?” I ask.
I feel a little nervous but hope she doesn’t notice.
“Yes.”
“Come on.” I grab her hand again and lead her back to the kitchen. “Um… I’m not much of a cook,” I say as I open the refrigerator.
“What do you have?” she asks, leaning against my side.
My heart pounds at the heat of her body against mine. The move is innocent, yet I find my pulse racing.
I look down at the little beauty beside me as she looks through my refrigerator.
“I’ll cook some chicken and veggies, how’s that sound?” she asks as she removes what she wants from the fridge.
It’s the strangest thing. I have a very strong urge to kiss her. My heart is tight in my chest, and my breath feels rough, but I know I can’t grab her. But, fuck if I’ve ever felt like this before.
I force myself to take a step back and walk to the bar stools on the other side of the counter and sit down. I have to force myself to step away from her.
“Caine?” she asks, looking over at me with a silly grin.
“Sounds great.”.
“That’s good, but I need you to tell me where your cooking stuff is,” she points out.
Well, fuck!
