“I think so? Considering everything that’s going on.” I let out a long breath. “It’s always something in this life. It’s exhausting.”
It’s one of the main reasons I don’t want to be in it anymore. I’m tired of watching my every move. I want to be free for once in my life to do whatever I want without it being a headline on some gossip site.
“That really something you’re thinking about doing?”
I shrug. The thought has crossed my mind more frequently over the last few months. Watching him and his mom in the kitchen doing everyday normal things had me thinking about it more than ever today.
“Sometimes I don’t understand why I still do it. I go through the motions. It’s always been my job. I don’t know much else.”
“Then quit.” He shrugs with me.
“Is it really that easy?”
“I don’t see why not.”
His hand slips into mine to guide me toward the table where Charlie and Marie are setting down some plates they brought out from the kitchen. Locke pulls the chair out for me before taking the chair next to mine. Charlie keeps giving me questioning looks, his eyes bouncing between Locke and me. I’ve noted Marie doing the same thing.
“You know, I’ve heard some whispers about Beckstrand,” Charlie says, taking a seat across the table. “I wish you would have told me you were doing an audition with him.”
“He’s a predator,” Locke says without missing a beat before he starts to pile pasta onto my plate.
“I can’t eat all that,” I rush to say, not wanting to waste any of the food Marie made for us. It smells so delicious. I can’t recall the last time I’ve had a home cooked meal or eaten pasta. I never let myself get it. It’s been drilled into my head that eating right is part of my job. It's a habit now. For the first time, Locke doesn’t listen to me. He puts another spoonful on my plate before he adds some to his own plate.
“I think I like your new security.” Charlie winks at me, filling his own plate. “You gonna bring him around more often?”
“Yes.” Locke jumps in before I can open my mouth.
“Good. Let’s chow.” Charlie starts shoveling food in his mouth.
“Whatever. You eat everything and still have abs.” I roll my eyes at him. “It’s so unfair.”
“You’re a tiny thing. I don’t think pasta is going to hurt you.”
“How would you know? No way you don’t have abs under there.” I pat Locke right on the stomach before I can think better of it. His hand comes down over mine, trapping it against his hard body.
“You’ve got to feed them.” Locke smirks at me for the first time. If I thought he was sexy before, I’m done for now. My fingers flex under his, pressing more into his stomach. Everything inside of me starts to heat. Including my face, but I can’t find the strength to pull back from touching him.
“She needs her hand to eat,” Marie points out.
“I could feed her.” He teases back at his mom, but when he doesn’t release his hold on me, I start to wonder if he’s teasing at all. I pull my hand back finally. Not because I want to, but I know all eyes are on Locke and me.
I’m grateful that Marie steers the conversation to other topics. I barely engage in the conversation because once her pasta hits my mouth I can't bring myself to stop eating it. It’s the most delicious meal I’ve had in a long time. Even knowing Locke is watching me, I still continue to chow down as though I’ve never eaten before.
Him watching me is different than when other people do it. I find myself liking it. Too much really. He’s being paid to watch me, and I need to remember that. He’s doing his job. Sure, we may be attracted to one another, but I shouldn’t make this out to be anything more than it is.
“Locke, no more!” I laugh, which hurts with how much I’ve eaten. “I can’t eat another bite,” I tell him when he tries to put more food on my plate.
“You said you couldn’t eat all that, but you did.” A scowl forms on his face, only making me laugh more. Is this his form of a pout? If it is, it’s adorable. That’s not an expression I ever thought I’d be using to describe him. I have to fight myself not to reach over and touch his face. I want to lean into him.
“Well, this time I mean it.” I bring my hand up to cover my mouth as a yawn escapes me. Those carbs are working to make me sleepy, but it’s still pretty early.
“We should get this cleaned up. I’m sure Sadie is tired. You’ve been through a lot today,” Marie says, pushing back from her chair.