I felt bad putting him out like this. He’d done so much for me already. Too much. I didn’t want to take him from his own bed as well. “It’s big enough for both of us,” I insisted, the words coming out before my brain could catch up with what I was saying. “We can sleep in here together.”
The fire in his gaze smoldered, the brown turning darker as he stepped in closer to me. “That what you want, sweetheart?” he asked in a husky voice that wrapped around me like a blanket, making me all snuggly and warm. “You want to share my bed with me?”
My mouth went dry at the implication in his voice, my body perking up and cheering, hell yeah we do! But I managed to squash the tingles before they could cause any problems. “It’s not that. I just really hate the idea of you sleeping on the couch just so you can make me feel better. I’m intruding on your space.”
“You aren’t intruding,” he reassured. “You’re here because I want you to be. I want to keep you safe, and this is the best place to do that.”
My chest felt tight, a burn forming behind my eyes. This was something I’d never had with a man before, not even Jason, who I’d wanted to spent my life with at one point. Besides Spence and my father, no man had ever wanted to take care of me, let alone go so far as to actually do it. West was making me feel all these things I had no business feeling. This wasn’t going to last, this wasn’t my life, and I needed to get these ridiculous notions out of my head that, maybe, when this was all said and done, I could keep this man. He wasn’t mine to keep. And he never would be.
“Why?” I asked, that one word low and throaty with emotion. It was a question that needed to be asked, because I couldn’t wrap my head around his behavior. “Why do you want to keep me safe so badly? You don’t even know me.”
He nodded, understanding swimming in that sherry gaze. “You’re right. I don’t know you well.” He stressed that last word to make a point. “But what I do know I really fucking like, and I want to know more.”
That wasn’t good. What he knew of me already wasn’t anything people wrote sonnets or waxed poetic about. I came from a family of criminals, my love life was basically a dry, dusty wasteland of failure, and I was broke as hell. Even without the threat of O’Brien hanging over me and my family, I hadn’t exactly been winning at the game of life. I was a thirty-three-year-old woman with no real job, nothing to put on a résumé that would make me look the slightest bit desirable, and no freaking clue what I wanted to do with my life.
“Believe me, things don’t get any better once you scratch the surface,” I warned.
“That’s for me to decide,” he said in a deep rumble that threatened to set my panties aflame.
But it wasn’t, it really wasn’t. Because I already knew how this would play out if I gave him a shot at deciding on his own. He’d work hard to get in behind those steel reenforced walls I kept up around myself, and he’d succeed, I knew that without a doubt, because he was just that damn good. I’d end up falling hard, and he’d discover I’d been right all along, that I hadn’t been worth it, and something told me that would crush me more than when Jason had ended things.
That was a risk I had absolutely no intention of taking. Hell, I’d rather go head to head with O’Brien. Okay, maybe not something that dramatic, but still.
Before I could utter another word, he asked, “You need help changing or anything?”
God, talk about embarrassing. “No. Thanks, but I think I can manage.” I didn’t have much choice, because no way in hell was he going to undress and redress me. There was absolutely nothing sexy about that.
“All right, Stella. Get some sleep. I’m just down the hall if you need anything.”
I nodded, my heart in my throat as he leaned in to place a kiss to my forehead. He started for the door, patting his thigh for Rollie to follow after him, but the big fluffy mutt had jumped up on the bed and made himself right at home.
“Come on, boy. She doesn’t want you taking up all her space.”
“I don’t mind,” I interrupted. “That is, as long as you’re okay with me stealing your bed and your dog.”
“I don’t mind at all.” Once again, nothing pinged on my radar. He really and truly meant that. This man was so odd. Incredible, but odd. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”
“Yeah. You too.”
With that, he closed the door behind him and left me and Rollie alone.
I was in big trouble.
Fifteen
Stella
I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at the closed door, before Rollie’s soft, gentle chuff, pulled my attention back to the present. “Your daddy’s a little too good to be true, isn’t he?”
In response to my question, the playful mutt rolled over onto his back and presented his belly for pets. I gave him a little scratch and moved over to my bag to see what all I had, promptly rolling my eyes at what was inside.
I admit I had a penchant for lacy underwear and racy nightgowns. Even without a man in my life to appreciate them, I felt pretty and feminine when I had on girlie undies and a matching bra. Same for when I went to bed. Some women went overboard with makeup and hair stuff; I hoarded delicate little lacy numbers. That didn’t mean I didn’t have more reasonable underwear for those times of the month where no amount of primping or silk could stop a woman from feeling bloated and bitchy. But by the looks of it, Mom and Serenity had avoided those sides of my drawers all together, instead, packing the smallest and raciest numbers I owned.
I fished around until I located the plastic baggy they’d stuffed my toiletries in, and pulled out the toothbrush. I’d have to forego washing my face until the cuts and bruises didn’t hurt so damn bad.
With a soft periwinkle nightie in hand, I headed for the attached bathroom and flipped on the light. Aside from the hamper that was surrounded by more clothes than it contained—apparently West wasn’t a very good shot—the room was blessedly clean. I brushed my teeth quickly as my eyes started to droop and exhaustion began pulling at my consciousness. I carefully shed my clothes, which took a hell of a lot longer than normal, and slipped into the nightgown, sighing at how the feathery soft cotton felt against my skin.
Flipping the lights off, I shuffled to the bed and climbed in. It took me a couple minutes to find a comfortable enough position, but once I did, Rollie pressed himself along my side, and almost immediately began to snore. It took me longer to find sleep, not because I was in pain—I’d grown accustomed to that over the past several hours—but because the sheets smelled like West. His cologne or body wash or whatever penetrated my senses so deeply that, when I finally started to doze, it was with him on my mind.
Which made for some incredibly vivid dreams.
I had no idea what time it was by the time I blinked my foggy eyes open the following morning. While West’s bed had been comfortable as hell, the mattress cloud soft, I hadn’t had the greatest night’s sleep, what with the hourly check-ins from my new host and my tendency to move around in my sleep. Every time I started to roll over onto my side, the shot of fire in my middle woke me up. I’d just begin drifting back under again when I’d feel a soft tap on my shoulder and hear West’s gentle voice asking me to open my eyes for a moment.