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“I know, but I was expecting someone way older. More . . . wrinkly,” she says, nuzzling my hand. “But I didn’t want to think too much about looks. I just hoped whoever I was meeting would be kind to me. I’m glad it was you.”
Her words take me aback. “I don’t know anyone that would call me kind.”
“I bet,” she whispers, blinking drowsily at me. “I’m being subjective when I call you kind. You have this permanent scowl on your face that would terrify even the strongest of men, and I won’t pretend not to see it, but I have seen other sides of you too. You were patient with me, took care of me. You even made me a ham sandwich. I don’t think there are many people who can claim to have received that from you.”
No one.
I have never made a sandwich for anyone else.
Nicholas Walsh, born and raised in luxury and wealth, has never served anyone a day in his life, but it’s all I have done from the second I met Joy.
Serving her is all I want to do.
“Let’s get you to bed,” I say again, ignoring the lump in my throat and the deep thrumming in my chest.
Joy is half-asleep by the time we make it to the bedroom and dead asleep the second her head hits the pillow. My arm is firmly locked in her grip as she sleeps, and she protests unconsciously when I try to pull away.
There are things I need to do. I need to find the fuse box and see if I can restore the power or locate a backup generator, so my angel doesn’t stay in the dark much longer.
I should leave to do just that, but I can’t move.
Lying beside Joy, her head on my shoulder as she sighs softly in her sleep, I can’t think of a good enough reason to leave.
Probably never will.
Chapter Six
Joy
I wake up to an unfamiliar clicking noise, and it takes me a second to place the sound as fingers flying over a computer’s keyboard.
Nick is the first thing I see, which is truly a sight to behold as the man is all lean muscles and tattoos. Who would have guessed that beneath that suit is an Adonis body? My fingers itch to touch the wide shoulders and firm pecs that I didn’t get a chance to explore yesterday.
Christ, is that drool on my chin? I reach up and swipe my hand over my chin, breathing out a sigh of relief when it comes back dry.
The second thing I notice is the computer on his lap and how his intense eyes don’t shift from it even for a second. His long fingers dance over the keyboard without a moment of pause.
I watch him discreetly, studying his straight nose and those lips that are capable of eliciting so much pleasure. Those intense blue eyes stay locked on the screen, and I don’t dare interrupt him, choosing to revel in the raw masculine beauty that this man exudes.
“Did you get enough sleep?” he asks gruffly, his eyes shooting to mine.
“I did,” I respond, my cheeks heating at being caught ogling the man, but can he blame me? He is a fine specimen. The finest of all.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.” He slaps the laptop closed and fixes his full attention on me. “I tried going to work in a different room, so I wouldn’t disturb you, but you kept calling out for me in your sleep.”
Oh, God!
How embarrassing!
I barely know this man. Surely he is joking, and there is no way I actually cried out for him in my sleep, right?Right?
Nick’s stoic face convinces me that he is not joking. He doesn’t look like he’s made a joke once in his life, and now, I am doomed. I want to ask what else I said in my sleep, but sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
Even so, the mortification from his words is enough to send me burrowing back under the covers, but only for a second before they are tugged down.
“I liked it,” the cruel man says, his gorgeous blue eyes staring down at me. “I liked hearing you call out for me every second I was away. I liked the way you would reach out to me in your sleep, grabbing my arm and cuddling it to your chest.”
Kill. Me. Now.
