“You have to let go, sweetness. Can you sit?”
“I’m not sure, it would be safer if I stayed right where I am now.”
I feel his chest moving in silent laughter. Is he making fun of me? My savior with the sexy voice and the forbidden smell? No… He wouldn’t.
“I promise I’ll come back, but I need to get you a glass of water.”
“I’d rather have a coffee,” I mumble, just as I feel a hard surface under my ass. Did he put me on a chair?
“I’ll get you a coffee too. Water first.” He starts to step back and I’m forcing myself to let him, but he pauses. “Don’t try to lean on anything, there’s no backrest.”
Oh. That complicates things.
I sigh and straighten up, opening my eyes a little to look in front of me.
Wow. I’m high. Am I sitting on a bar stool? No. Feels higher. I place my hand on the surface under my ass and I come to the quick conclusion that I’m definitely not on a stool. More like a… Smooth marble countertop? I look down at it, and it’s definitely a countertop. But not marble. It’s some kind of mixed light stone.
I grip the edge a little tighter when I feel my head swirling a little and lift my gaze to focus in front of me.
Oh, this is a pretty house. The walls are white but some of them are covered in uneven stripes of wooden boards where plants are hanging and little candles are placed. A little farther, a large living room with a huge gray sectional covered in haphazardly thrown blankets. The square coffee table in front of it is covered in clutter and on the other side of it all, an unlit iron fireplace, just under a wall mounted flat screen TV.
There are lots of artistic photographs on the walls, potted plants on thefloor and furniture.
This house has a soul. It’s a home.
My view is suddenly obstructed by the bearer of the forbidden smell and our eyes meet for the first time since I fell down by the car.
Blue. So, so blue.
I want to swim in it.
“You can’t. But I hear the Ocean is quite nice this time of the year…”
He grabs my hand softly, and makes me close it around a cool glass filled with what looks to be water.
“I don’t want water…” I say, my brows pulling down in a pout.
“You’ll have your coffee after. Drink up.”
He tilts my arm up, bringing the glass to my mouth and I drink. Big gulps. Wow. It actually feels so good. I guess I was parched.
“Good,” he says when I sigh in relief once the glass is empty. “Do you need another one?” I shake my head and he nods, taking the glass out of my hand, replacing it with a warm mug of heavenly scented coffee.
Yeah, that’s the stuff.
I cup the mug with both of my hands, enjoying the feel of it warming my palms, and our eyes meet again.
He’s standing so close, wrapping me in his masculine, safe smell. He shouldn’t stand this close.
It’s forbidden.
“What if it was not forbidden?” He asks again, voice barely above a whisper.
“Hm?” I ask, my eyes dropping to that spot on his cheek where a dimple sometimes appears.
“You know, I was always dying to know what was in your mind,” he says, and I’m almost certain that his nose is almost touching mine. “To see the world the way you see it when you draw.” He pauses and my breath hitch.
“And you don’t anymore?”
