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Which meant that it was Grady who’d wrapped an arm around her. Trapped her to him. Holding her steady. And it was Grady who slid an arm under her legs and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the sofa to set her down.
Brooks had put away the blankets and pillows and pushed the sofa together. Grady sat her down, then sat across from her on the coffee table. His knees were on either side of hers, trapping her.
“I didn’t drink any alcohol,” she told him. “I promise. I wouldn’t do that with those pills. And I don’t even like drinking.”
“We know, baby girl,” Steele reassured her.
“Then why would you ask that? What . . . what’s going on? And what happened last night?”
“You don’t remember it?” Grady asked.
“No. The last thing I really remember is Lucy getting me my handbag. And taking some painkillers. I wish I hadn’t done that. But I’ve never reacted badly to them before.”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Grady told her. “Do you want to get changed?”
“Changed?” she asked. What was he talking about? Why would she need to change?
“Your clothes,” he said. “Do you need to change your clothes?”
“I was just . . . these are my cleaning clothes. I wasn’t expecting company.” If they expected her to dress better, then they should have called first.
“She needs to put on a sweater, socks, shoes, a jacket, scarf, and gloves,” Steele dictated, moving around the room. “Is that . . . does the floor go down right here?”
“Yeah, I think the foundation is sinking slightly.”
Steele just stared at her for a long moment. “Why hasn’t that been fixed?”
“Um, well, the landlord is kind of elderly. And I’m not sure that he could fix it.” Other than bulldozing the place. And she would rather have somewhere to live than a house that was level.
“At least he put in security lights,” Steele commented.
“Uh-huh.”
Grady eyed her steadily. “Did he pay someone to install those lights?”
“Uh, no.”
“So he got up on a ladder and did it?” Steele asked.
Shit.
“Coffee!” She jumped to her feet. “I need to get you coffee! And cookies! I must have cookies somewhere. Would you like cake?”
“You have cake?” Steele asked.
“Not yet. But give me an hour and I’ll have cake. Not that you want to stay for an hour. I’ll bring you one on Tuesday. What do you want?”
“Red velvet with cream cheese frosting,” Grady demanded.
“Oh, you liked the last one?” she asked.
“Didn’t even get a crumb. The big guy hogged it all.”
“Whoa. That’s a lot of cake to eat.”
They both stared at Steele, who crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m a big guy.”
That he was. He really was. And she had a thing for that. All those muscles . . . pinning her down . . . holding her tight while Grady lashed her pussy with his tongue. Was it wrong that she liked the idea of being held down? Of being . . . forced?
