The way he was looking at me made my skin prickle as the heat radiated from my body. "I don't do hookups,” I blurted. “I need to know someone. Like them. Trust them." Christ. I was so nervous my mouth was running away from me.
"Who says I’m looking for a hookup?" His voice was low, husky, and tempting.
“I am here in your flat. You didn’t kill me yet, so…"
He sighed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "You are beautiful. Like I said, I like to work for things. Everyone assumes that I want things easy. I don't. My whole life, people have given me things without giving me the opportunity to work for them."
"You want to work for me?"
"I'd like a shot," he said with a smirk. “And to start, that means I can’t assume. So I’m good with some work.”
I swallowed hard, studying him. "People do that a lot, don't they?"
"What's that?" he asked.
"Underestimate you."
"Tell me if you want to go, and I will take you to your mate. Do I want you to stay? Yes. Do I want you? Undoubtedly. Do I want to work for your trust? Yes, I think I like it better that way.”
Oh boy, I was so dead. Men like him were dangerous, because with the intensity of his gaze, the way he was watching me, I believed him. Or at least I wanted to believe him. Every instinct told me he was telling me the truth. Which worried me because I already wanted him.
What’s wrong with that?
"So who are you? What makes you tick?"
He licked his lips. "Oh no, you don’t. This is your birthday. We are focusing on you.” He jumped up. "Come with me."
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, just come here." He walked me over to a bureau just to the right of his kitchen, pressed buttons on the keypad, and the door slid back, revealing a massive entertainment system. One of the shelves slid out and an actual honest-to-God record player slid out.
I laughed. "Of course, you've got a record player."
He rolled his eyes. "You're missing out."
On the bottom were rows of albums. When I looked down, I saw that there was an intricate shelving system, album after album, and I laughed. "I see a lot of rock classics here."
He grinned. "Yes, but my favorite is Stevie Wonder. Do you like Stevie?"
"He’s classic. ‘Superstitious’ is bloody brilliant. You must love music."
He took my hand and twirled me. "We, my dear, are going to finish our dance we started at the club."
I laughed. "You can't be serious."
"Come on." He pulled the Stevie Wonder album out of its sleeve and placed it on the record player. And as Stevie's voice rang clear, Lachlan King held out his hand. "Come on, are you going to have a little fun on your birthday or not?"
"Who are you?"
"Lachlan. We met at the club? Try and keep up."
I laughed. I knew he couldn't know my mother had loved Stevie. So much so that it was my middle name. I didn't tell Lachlan that though. Instead, I stared down at his hand.
"It's your birthday. You deserve to dance on your birthday."
"You are correct, Mr. King."
"I hope you know that every time you say it like that it sounds just a little bit dirty."
"What? No. I'm not being dirty."
He laughed. "A little bit. It's how you say it. I don't know what to tell you. You are sexualizing me, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.” His voice took on a husky note.
I coughed a laugh. "Oh my God, you're impossible."
"Well, I just call it like I see it."
I rolled my eyes. "Maybe this is how you lure all the women. Bring them up here, play them a little Stevie Wonder, dance in the living room with them. Perfect date situation. Is this what you call work? You're going to have to do better than this,” I teased.
"No other women. This is my sanctuary. Besides, Charlie and I had a rule. No randoms in the flat, because randoms tended to want to come back for more. And once he had this girl who stalked him. She came to the house because he hadn't called."
I laughed. "Oh no."
"Oh yes. My mother had a lot to say about that. So when we moved in together here, we made a rule. No randoms."
"Am I random?"
"Absolutely not. You are the kind of girl who makes me work. Hence, not a random."
"Smooth, Mr. King, very smooth."
"Now, Miss Abott, take my hand."
And I did. He was warm and solid. For the first time in too long, I trusted someone. It was that easy.
“Now be a good girl and tell me how you like to be touched.”
Chapter Nine
Saffron
I should get up to leave. I should. After dancing and laughing and being fed, not only did I feel completely cared for in a way that was odd and strange from a perfect stranger, I knew I liked it. Which was problematic at best, and it wasn't like I could keep it. There was no worry or doubt that could happen. This was a distinctly temporary arrangement, so I needed to get up and go.
It doesn't have to be temporary.
I thought of Gabe going all big brother on him. Where is your family? Where did you come from? What are your financials? All of those things that would scare off anyone.
There was no way. Lock was exactly the kind of bloke who would not pass muster. Besides, tonight was a perfect night. It was the kind of night that you wished and hoped for, but I needed to get back to Tabs.
What if for once, you didn't talk yourself out of something amazing? What if for once you stayed?
I couldn't. It was too complicated.
Or maybe you're scared to stay. Scared of loving someone and losing them again?
Oooh, my self-awareness was on the warpath today.
"You want to leave." He sighed.
I froze and then turned in Lock's arms, the warmth of them surrounding me. His clean pine scent enveloped me, tempting me to stay where I was.
We'd fallen asleep on the couch watching Luther. And it had been the most perfect night.
"You've done enough. You cheered me up and provided first aid. I should go."
His gaze searched mine, and I could feel the erratic thumping of his heart beneath my hand.
"If you want to go, let’s go. I’ll walk you. Better yet, maybe a cab. How far is it?"
I rattled off the address. "But I can walk. It’s no big deal. I don't want to bother you."
He lifted a brow. "First of all, I'm going with you. Second of all, it's cold. Come on, let's get you going."
I knew that was my cue. Except when he shifted and pulled me closer so he could roll us over, I realized I didn't want to leave. I was enjoying the cocoon of his arms. I liked him. I liked the way I felt. I liked the way he held me. I liked it all. So why was I so eager to run?
His voice held a low chuckle. "You're not getting up, Saff."
"I don't want to,” I whispered. For once I wanted to be reckless.
The corner of his lips tipped up then. "Then why are you going?"
"Because I think I should be going." For some reason, it was easy to be honest with him instead of finding the half-truths that I was always telling for survival.