Sutton sits on the end of the bed, leaning back onto his elbow. His navy-blue tee shirt tests the strength of the threads across his muscled chest. “Go ahead then. One more page.”
She dives back into her story, but Sutton isn’t paying attention. His eyes are on me. They zigzag across my body like a match flaming bright in the darkness. The intensity there is startling. A mixture of calculation and desire.
His protective instincts won’t yet yield to the fact that there’s a stranger in his house.
Though I can’t really say we’re strangers now, can I?
Not after last night, and the way he chased that guy off at the bar.
My body heats at the memory. His controlled demand. Sutton saw me from across the room, and despite not being anything to each other, he made it known he didn’t like it.
That was hot.
He might be my boss, but I’m also a single, warm-blooded woman who hasn’t gotten any since I dumped my last boyfriend nearly a year ago. I’d have to be blind or a liar to deny that Sutton Stone is a walking fantasy for half this town.
“All done!” Nellie slams her book closed and climbs down from the bed.
“Brush your teeth and wash your face. I’ll be right behind you to say good night.”
“Can we have our sleepover tonight?” She turns her expressive blue eyes on her father.
He brushes away a wayward strand of her hair. “Not tonight. Alice needs her rest.”
Nellie looks at my bruised face and pats my knee. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.” She skips out of the room to complete her bedtime tasks.
“How are you?” Sutton’s voice dips with the question, keeping the words safe from prying little ears.
“I’m good.”
Sutton doesn’t buy my automatic answer. “How are you really?”
Half my mouth quirks, the action conditioned. “I got hit in the face with a door. It’s not like I fought off a grizzly bear. I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I asked, Firecracker, and you know it.”
That nickname sizzles through me like he launched one straight at my chest. My shoulders rise with a visible deep breath.
“I mean it. Last night I was scared. Today, I think I’m leaning somewhere closer to pissed.”
“Good.”
“Good? You want me pissed?”
“No, but anything other than cracking jokes and laughing means you’re processing.”
My lips part. “You don’t know me.”
“I don’t?” His eyebrow quirks in an infuriating arch. “I know you’ve been laughing things off since you pulled up to this town.”
“Maybe I’m just an unserious person.”
“That’s definitely true. But you’re allowed to be more than just funny.”
Pressure grows inside my chest. “I know.”
“Your emotions are not a burden.”
A fist wraps around my throat. “Why are you doing this?”