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I’m a man who takes what he wants. I’m hardly ever told no, and there’s nothing out of my reach.
But with Daisy, things feel different. She needs me. Well, she needssomeone, and I’m in the position to help her. And so, what if I like helping her? If we make it physical, then it would only complicate things. Not to mention, I’d lose interest almost immediately.
It’s a defense mechanism, really. When there’s no real way to tell if someone is interested inmeor my money, it never ends well. Having my heart broken so many times has formed a callous around it.
I am emotionally bankrupt.
The sudden silence catches my attention, stealing me from my depressing thoughts. The soft pad of her footsteps carry down the hall as she comes to find me. I’m out of my chair and walking toward her faster than I mean to.
She’s peering into empty rooms, her tight black leggings catching my eye. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier pair of legs in my life.
When she turns around to find me staring, I watch her expression for a sign. Do I repulse her? Frighten her? I might be dreaming here…but do I interest her?
There’s a slight upturn of her lips when our eyes meet, as if she’s happy to see me. Then silence stretches out between us for a few moments before she speaks, and I find myself hanging on in anticipation for what she might say.
“I’m sorry. You probably want me out of your house,” she mutters quietly. “I didn’t realize it’s already two in the afternoon.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask playfully.
“Well, I have to work at eight,” she replies with a cheeky grin.
“You’re not sleeping in your van again.”
I watch her expression harden. “Am I being kidnapped right now?”
“You drove yourself here.” I lean my arm against the wall, maintaining my smile.
“I’m serious, Ronan. I can’t impose.”
“You’re not imposing. I have the space, and you need it. Stay warm. Stay safe. End of discussion.”
Her eyes take on that sweet, playful look, and I’m fighting the urge to pin her against this wall and kiss that innocence right off her face.
I’ve been around long enough to know when a woman is playing with me, and I can see it in Daisy’s eyes, just how much she likes to pretend to be meek and naive simply to push my buttons.
“Yes, Da—” she starts to say, but I press my hand over her mouth to stop her from finishing that sentence. It might be a joke to her, but it’s certainly not one to me. She doesn’t want to know just how much that phrase affects me.
When I pull my hand away, her lips fight a smile. “Sorry.”
“Are you hungry?” I ask, changing the subject.
“A little,” she replies.
With that, I lead her to the kitchen, motioning for her to walk in front of me. Agatha has stepped out to do the shopping, but I can manage lunch. I pull up my sleeves and wash my hands at the sink. Daisy leans against the kitchen counter, eyeing me with interest. As if me washing my hands is the most intriguing thing she’s ever watched.
“Are you making me lunch?” she asks with a smile.
“Hey, I’m a good cook.”
“Don’t you have someone to do your cooking?” she asks.
On my way to the fridge, I shrug. “I don’t have time to cook every meal, but I enjoy it when I can. It’s calming to me.”
“Can I help?” she asks, watching me pull the onions and meat out of the fridge.
“Sure,” I reply, gesturing to the cutting board leaning against the backsplash. “Slice these onions.”
With a nod, she pulls the large knife from the block and gets to work slicing the onions on the board. I catch her looking back at me while I season and form two hamburger patties on a piece of wax paper. When I notice her quietly giggling, I smile.
