“It was nothing that cool.” He gives a short laugh. “I got recruited by a diplomat family after I left the military. Their regular security guy recommended me.”
My brows lift slightly. “Security?”
“And childcare apparently.” Another faint smile touches his mouth. “The girls were eight and eleven when I got there. Smart as hell. Bossy too.”
I grin slightly. “That explainsPride and Prejudice.”
That low laugh rumbles through his chest again. God, I love that sound already.
Troy’s expression softens slightly as he continues.
“I traveled with them for almost three years. Italy mostly. Some France. Switzerland.” His thumb brushes absently along my arm. “When I came back, people had already made up their minds about where I’d been.”
“And you just let them?”
His gaze drifts toward the window. “Sometimes it’s easier letting people believe the worst about you,” he says quietly. “Keeps them at a distance.”
My chest aches unexpectedly at the loneliness tucked beneath the words.
“And what if someone wants to get closer?”
His eyes meet mine again slowly.
Dark. Warm. Unguarded in a way I don’t think many people ever get to see.
“That’s always been hard for me in the past,” he says quietly. “But you make me want to let down my walls.”
By the time Troy drives me back into town two days later, the roads are finally clear enough to travel safely again.
The entire drive feels strangely bittersweet. For two days, there was nothing but him, me, and the bed.
Plus, the occasional venture out of it for sustenance. Including multiple cups of hot chocolate with a shocking amount of marshmallows on top.
“Who knew you’d have such a sweet tooth?” I’d teased.
“You got me,” he’d replied. “Speaking of my sweet tooth…”
Then, he’d set both of our mugs aside and preceded to devour me whole. A flashback of the resulting orgasm flutters through me.
I clench my thighs together, already growing damp. Again.
“I’ll come by after closing,” Troy says as he parks outside the library. “If you still want company.”
Warmth blooms instantly in my chest. “I definitely want company. As long as it’s yours.”
His gaze lingers on me for one long second before I climb out of the truck. My knees go weak again.
Being looked at by Troy Taylor in broad daylight should require a warning label.
Then he gives me parting kiss in front of everyone. I catch a wide-eyed Ethel and Bernice staring when I fumble with my keys to unlock the door.
No doubt, our resident detectives will be on the case—and have the gossip spread all over town—before dinner.
The entire afternoon crawls by painfully slowly.
By closing time, I’m reorganizing the romance shelves mostly to keep myself occupied.
Specifically, I’m trying to decide which Jane Austen novel to force Troy into reading next.