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“I’ll make us lunch. What do you feel like?” he asked as they walked into the house.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Grilled cheese it is,” he said cheerfully.
She sighed and slid her arm out of the sling.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Hack asked, looking over at her with a frown.
“I’ve got to do some work.”
“Not today, you’re not. You’re resting that wrist.”
She sighed. So fossy. But unfortunately, bills still needed to be paid. “I’ve got deadlines. And I can’t afford any more time off. My wrist will be fine.” She moved it around. Ouch. She wasn’t so sure it would be fine. But she’d suffer through it.
“And I said no. They can wait until tomorrow.”
“You can’t tell me no.”
“Yes, I can.”
“You’re not actually my guardian. You don’t really get a say in what I do.” She didn’t know why she was fighting him so much on this. The truth was, another day wouldn’t matter.
But she felt the urge to stand her ground . . . and see what he would do.
“I don’t get a say?” he asked in a low voice.
Warning. Warning.
She shook her head but swallowed nervously. Not that she thought he would hurt her. But he did look rather intense.
“I would have a say if you were mine.”
“But I’m not.”
“Are you sure about that? Because you feel like mine.”
32
“Uh, what?” she whispered.
“You feel like mine, baby girl.” He moved even closer, clasping her face between his hands. “You feel like you were always meant to be mine. I’m not a fanciful person, but it feels like the universe threw us together for a reason. Because we were meant to meet.”
Holy. Crap.
Was this happening?
“That’s called a snowstorm. It’s nature.”
“I don’t give a fuck what it was. I knew when I met you that you were mine.”
She shook her head. Well, as much as she could when he held her head between his hands.
“And I think you knew it as well, didn’t you, baby?”
“It won’t work.”
“Shh. You can’t start something thinking that it won’t work. You have to have faith.”
