“Yeah, you and your brother are lucky,” I sighed. “Hey, I have a question. Was it not kind of awkward being tall when you were in the Air Force?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, you did things like patrolling on the ground, right?” When he nodded, I continued, “So, did that not make you a target? Other people could hide behind stuff, but with your height, you’d probably pop out over the top of things.”

I was serious, but he started laughing again and pulled me into his side. “You’re a breath of fresh air, Tamsin.” Hearing him say my real name made a long sigh come out of me. I wasn’t used to it, and I’d missed it hugely. “You’re going to be okay, baby. I promise.”

Burying my nose in his side, I hugged him with my bad arm. “I hope so. I kind of like it here.”

Giving me a squeeze, he kissed the top of my head, leaving his face buried in it. I’d read about this in romance books, and the same thing that’d hit me each time hit me again then. I knew my hair was clean, Garrett did it for me every other night, but what if it smelled slightly? I mean, hair does start to smell, and even though I’d washed it last night, what if it’d started to smell funny already? Oh my God, what if he was sniffing stinky hair and trying to be nice?

With that worry at the front of my brain like a siren, I tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let me go. “Give me this moment, baby. I imagined a lot of shitty things today, and hearing the real one…”

I knew what he meant, but I doubted a dirty hair stench would fix it for him.

“I know,” I patted his stomach with my cast, trying to be as gentle as possible. Then, it just blurted out of me. “If you’re going to put your face near my hair, I probably need to wash it twice a day. Does it smell? Not the shampoo, the roots. Hair smells funny if you don’t wash it every hour, doesn’t it, so I probably have that smell in there. Maybe I should shave my head?”

Even as I suggested it, I mourned my hair. It was naturally black, long, and healthy, and I loved it.

Lifting his head, he glared down at me. “Firstly, if you shave your head, I’ll spank your ass. And to answer your question: no, it doesn’t smell bad, it smells like the shampoo and conditioner I put on it last night. I also get hard when I get in the shower because of the smell of both of those things. It makes me think about waking up in the morning with your head on my chest and the scent of you in my nose. I almost wanked to the smell this morning, but I heard you moving around and knew I’d be loud when I came.”

And with that, he gave me a lip touch, then got up and walked toward the hallway. “I’m making us steaks and potatoes tonight. Just let me get changed.”

Staring at where he’d just been with his words still going around in my head, I looked down at Clyde, who looked like he was frowning at me. “What the hell do I do with that information? And how long do you think it’ll be until he starts finding the guns and knives I’ve hidden?”

Two guns and two knives were hidden in strategic places in the house, including one under the couch cushions. I wasn’t brave enough to tell him about them today, though.

Chapter Nine

Garrett

The next morning…

My plan of wooing Zuri—no, she was Tamsin now—had changed. Learning what I had about her situation kind of changed where our relationship was at.

I knew I needed to go slowly and ease into her circle of trust because, if I were in her shoes, I’d have a whole new level of trust that needed to be hit by people around me. I also felt like I was ten feet tall after she’d shared it all because it showed she trusted me. Yeah, sure, that was trust, but what I wanted with her meant I had to earn a different level of it. Fuck it, I knew what I meant, and I was going to do this properly.

Unfortunately, Mom had called early this morning to say that Dad needed help with something, so my plans for the day had changed from nothing but Tamsin to bringing her to see my parents.

And that’s why I was about to open their front door, with my hand around her wrist as I delicately tugged her along behind me.

“Just crack a window in the car, and I’ll stick my nose out of it,” she begged again. “Think about poor Clyde, think of the child.”


Tags: Mary B. Moore Cheap Thrills Romance