Page 52 of My Fiancé's Brother
I pulled in a deep, shuddery breath. “Do you have to shoot at people?”
He lifted his hat on and off his head, and then he squinted up at me. “Sometimes.”
“Oh,” I swallowed thinking. “I think your job sounds awful.”
His laugh was short and low. “Do you want to wait downstairs? I'm sure Mattie will be home soon.”
“Okay.”
He stood and offered me a hand. We walked downstairs. I stopped when I was on the second last step. The entire place was spotless. Everything gleamed. Clean wine glasses hung on the wine rack. Everything was in order. It looked like a showroom.
I stared at him. “Did you do this?”
“Come on,” he tugged on my hand. “Let’s get you on the couch.”
I sat, and he grabbed a blanket and pulled it over me. “Lie down.”
I looked up at him. “Will you sit with me?”
He paused for such a long moment, I was sure he would say no, but then he nodded. “Sure.”
He sat on one end, and I lay on the length of the couch, my knees up, and my feet next to his thigh.
He looked over at me. “Do you want some water?”
I shook my head. “Thanks for sitting with me.”
A smile ghosted across his face. “That’s what friends do.”
I shifted my legs. My feet were cold. I burrowed them under his thighs.
He looked at me. I snatched my feet back up. “My feet are cold.”
He grabbed my feet and pulled them onto his lap. He wrapped one warm hand around my foot.
“They are cold.” He wrapped his other hand around my other foot.
“Your hands are better than socks.”
Another smile tugged at his mouth.
I stared at him. “Why did you clean everything up?”
He shrugged.
My self-loathing reached an all-time high. “I bet you wish you never stayed here.”
“Not true.”
“Why are you so nice?”
His laughter was harsh. “I'm not nice, Emily. Not even close.”
“You’re nice to me.”
“Go to sleep. You’ll feel better if you sleep.”
I was halfconscious when he got up off the couch.
