Calder sneaksme into the bathroom an hour later, dark hair messy from sleep, eyes bright with something I can’t read. “Take your time,” he says, eyes roaming my body—from the t-shirt barely covering my ass, down my thighs, then up to meet mine again. “Let me sort out breakfast.”
I swallow hard. “You don’t have to do that,” I reply, shaking my head. “You’ve done enough already.”
He takes a step towards me, filling my space. “What if I like doing this?” One hand moves to the sink behind me, the other cupping my cheek. “What if I want to be the one to take care of you?”
There’s a need burning in the hazel of his eyes. Not a need for more sex, but for something else.
And I don’t get the impression he’s lying, either.
I release a shaky breath. “Calder?—”
He cuts me off with a soft kiss. Another that takes my breath away, that fills my heart with that unfamiliar warmth. “Learn to hand over the reins sometime, trouble,” he teases, pulling back.
“What about work? And talking to the sheriff…” I take the hand on my cheek and pull it away. “Those are things you can’t handle for me, Calder.”
He raises a brow, but steps away. I feel the lack of his warmth immediately. “We’ll see about that.” He winks, eyes taking in my body again. “I’ll be back.”
With that, he slips out of the bathroom. I try to suck in calming, even breaths, but each one is harder than the last.
I don’t like this feeling rushing through me. This desire to be taken care of. It’s too comfortable letting him do these things for me. It’s too easy leaning on him for support.
Except I know better than to do that. I’ve always been able to take care of myself. I know how it can bite you in the ass, letting someone in who doesn’t have the best of intentions.
I don’t evenknowhis intentions. I’m starting to think it’s not just about the funeral anymore, not about Miss Iris and her little matchmaking ability.
But I’m terrified to find out what he really wants. I don’t want last night to be tainted by the truth, and yet…
And yet my heart is betraying me. Every little kiss, every stolen touch.
It’s falling harder and harder for him.
I just don’t know if it’s too late to stop it.
NINE
CALDER
Ifind Imogen showered and dressed in day old scrubs when I return with a tray of breakfast Ma put together. She’d left a note with a message from the Sheriff, telling me Imogen needs to call him about the break in, but I’ve pocketed it for now.
I pause in the doorway of the bedroom, taking in the dark look in her eyes. Something’s changed from last night, but I don’t know what it is.
Kicking the door shut, I set the tray down on the desk and cross my arms. “What’s wrong?”
Her dark eyes meet mine. Pressing her lips together, she shakes her head. “I can’t do this, Calder.”
I take a step towards her, heart pounding. “Do what?” I thought we’d had a breakthrough last night. A moment that could change everything.
I hadn’t lied when I said I wanted to take care of her. Hell, I want to do a whole lot more than just take care of her.
I know what I want now, more than anything. And it’s her.
Imogen rises from the edge of the bed with a sigh. “I can’t play games.” She runs a hand through her hair, eyes pleading with me to understand. “Not when everything I’ve worked for—everything I’ve built for myself—is on the line.”
But I don’t understand. I don’t know what she means, not when there’s a chance that this—whatever we have between us—could be great.
“Imogen—”
“I appreciateeverythingyou have done for me. And last night was…” She drops my stare, cheeks flushing. “Last night made me realise I have too much to lose,” she whispers, shaking her head as she lifts her eyes to mine. “Please. I can’t handle being left again.”
