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I step aside to let her out of the bathroom since I need a shower. She beelines for the door out to the living area, skirting the bed.
“In the bed, lass,” I remind her. How else will I make sure she’s okay? Lauren freezes mid-step, nodding without looking at me and walking out to the main apartment area.
Once I’ve toweled myself down, I head back to the bedroom. The place is bathed in darkness, and I can make out a shape huddled under the comforter. Good, she listened to my command.
Striding toward the bed, I’m about to climb in when I hear a small sniffle. The fuck? As I slide in beside her, there is a small squeak and another sniffle. Jesus fuck, the lass is crying.
“Are you crying, lass?” I whisper, the horror evident in my voice. She sniffs again.
“No,” she whispers back, her voice breaking on the word.
Jesus fuck. This is another one of those cuddling moments, isn’t it? Motherfucker. Sighing, I slip my arm underneath her neck and haul her to me, closing my arms around her and burying my face in her hair as her cheek lies on my bare chest.
“What are you doing?” Lauren asks, her voice slightly muffled since her mouth is half-pressed against my chest. There is a slight tickle as her lips move against my skin. My dick gets the wrong idea and leaps around like an eager puppy, but I ignore it.
“Cuddling you until you feel better,” I reply into her hair. Her lips move against my chest again, but no noise comes out. I think she might be smiling, even though she sniffles again.
“Have you ever cuddled a woman before, Paddy?”
I roll my eyes into the darkness. Did the lass get the memories shocked out of her at the sight of the blood or something? She’s from Dot. A little blood wouldn’t be an unusual sight. She didn’t seem so squeamish cleaning my knuckles the first night she got here. She was fuckingthere.
“Yes. I cuddled you the other day.”
“And so you did,” she replies after a beat.
She’s imitating me. Normally, the sound of someone so obviously mocking me would have my blood boiling. But I’m lying here, my arms around her, swallowing a smile. It disappears as Lauren sighs.
“The Italians trashed our apartment.”
I stiffen at her words. Jesus. That’s a common tactic the Bianchi Crime Family uses to send a message. That you’re not safe. That they can get to you anywhere.
“Is that why you came to find me?” I ask her, stroking her hair. It’s a nice feeling because her hair is silky, and when I move the strands around, the smell of vanilla is more evident.
“No, I mean, today. Well, this morning, they trashed our apartment.”
What? How the fuck would she know that if she was obeying my order to stay here? My fingers close tightly around the hair they are tangled in, and I tug her head back to look into her face. She winces at the tugging in her hair and cringes at the fury in my voice.
“How do you know that?” I ask, furious that she disobeyed me and left the apartment. I can’t fucking keep her safe if she doesn’t do as she’s fucking told. Jesus fuck, what is with people thinking they can do as they fucking please?
“Ow,” she whimpers. Shit. I slacken my fist, but only a little. “My neighbor called me today after you left,” she bleats. I loosen my grip further.
“What did you tell this neighbor?” I hiss. Jesus fuck. They could be informing for the Italians. The lass has less than no sense of self-preservation. Just how much harder has she made looking after her?
“Nothing! I didn’t tell Andie anything.”
Andy? Who the fuck is Andy?
“Who the fuck is Andy?” I growl, my hand tugging at her hair again.
“She’s my neighbor,” she sniffles. I open my hand, letting her hair slip through my fingers as her head tips forward, and she presses her face against my chest, a small sob escaping. Fucking hell. I’m not doing a very good job at this cuddling thing. I tentatively start stroking her hair again. Eventually, the tension leaves her body as she falls asleep.
The moon comes out from behind a cloud, and the room is bathed in silvery light. I study Lauren’s face. Now her eyes are closed, she’s back to being simply pretty again.
I run my fingertips over the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. I watch her face until the clouds come over again, and the room is plunged into darkness. Unable to see her freckles anymore, I let my head drop back onto the pillow, closing my eyes as I tighten my arms around Lauren and fall asleep, vanilla swirling around my senses.
LAUREN
I wake to find myself held tightly against Paddy’s chest again. This is becoming something of a habit. One I probably shouldn’t let myself get used to. His morning erection is pressed hard into my hip, and he groans softly as I move, inadvertently grinding against it.
