He brushed a kiss against her hair and tightened his hold on her, making sure she was secure on his lap. “Don’t worry, you belong right here, love.”
His lungs seized. Love. It had just slipped out. But she hadn’t noticed. Her breathing never changed and she didn’t open her eyes as he held her close and tried to process the truth his body had recognized long before his head.
Not that there was anything to be done about it. Olivia was meant for a better man than the beast he’d become.
Chapter Ten
Steam thickened the air in the bathroom as Olivia toweled herself dry after the shower. Bending at the waist, she stretched down, touching her toes to help relieve the lingering aches from falling asleep in such an awkward position last night. How Mateo made it as long as he did, holding her on his lap as he sat in that hard kitchen chair, she had no idea. She’d woken up hours later as he carried her up the stairs to his room, the dog trailing behind.
Staying over hadn’t been her plan when she’d arrived last night armed with two slices of pecan pie—shit, fucking Mateo in his kitchen hadn’t been her plan—and yet she’d woken up in his arms. It was as if she couldn’t resist, as if being with him was inevitable. The thought should scare the ever-loving shit out of her. It didn’t.
Still basking in the glow of last night’s double-orgasm high, she felt as if anything was possible. Today she was going to persuade the Salvation holdouts to support the veterans’ center fundraiser. It was a win for the vets, for the town, and for the little Sweet on his or her way. Everything was going to work out.
A knock sounded just as she was wrapping a large, fluffy towel around her body.
“I have a T-shirt for you, if you want to borrow it,” Mateo said through the closed door.
Just the sound of his voice sent a delicious shiver through her and tightened her nipples into hard points. “You mean you don’t want to watch me run naked across that back field to the cabin so I can get dressed?”
“I do now. I’m going to go burn all the clothing in the house except for a couple of old ties so I can secure you
to the bed.”
“You’re so funny.” She whipped open the door. “Give up the shirt.”
The dog trotted in, sniffing the strawberry scent lingering in the air from her body wash and licking the last drops of water from her toes. Olivia barely noticed the tickle because just looking at Mateo, again dressed only in basketball shorts, put her on sensory overload. The man should never be allowed to wear a shirt. Or shorts. Or really anything at all.
He gave her a slow up-and-down perusal while fisting the gray T-shirt. “Breakfast is ready.”
“You made me breakfast?” That had never happened before. Hotel room service? Yes. Restaurant? Occasionally. Anything not delivered by someone wearing a name tag? Never.
The tops of his ears turned pink. “Don’t get too excited, it’s toaster waffles and juice.”
“Sounds perfect.”
He turned to go, obviously in retreat mode.
“Hey, Mateo,” she called out.
He spun around. “Yeah?”
She held out her hand. “The shirt?”
He looked down as if he’d forgotten what he’d been holding. A wicked smile curled his lips as he looked back up at her, his gaze stopping on the spot right between her breasts where she’d secured her towel as if he could flick it open with just a glance. Instead, he gave her a slow wink and handed over the shirt. “See you downstairs.”
Awareness singed her skin and her breath caught in her chest. Before, they’d always been rushing, her from catwalk to catwalk and him from battlefield to battlefield, stopping only long enough to meet, fuck and begin the countdown until the next time. Maybe this time they’d both stay put long enough to actually see if what was between them could work for more than a stolen weekend at a hotel.
Mateo thought giving her the shirt would help end his perma-boner. Then Olivia sauntered through the kitchen in the T-shirt that barely covered her pert ass and he realized the immense error of his ways. All the thin cotton did was make him remember every single detail of what was underneath. She was killing him with her hotness. Slowly. Thoroughly. Ruthlessly.
“Wow,” she chuckled. “That’s a lot of waffles.”
He looked down at the stack of eight on his plate. “I’m hungry.”
She stopped behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his bare back. “You did have a helluva workout last night.”
Before he could make a snappy rejoined, that weirdo cat of hers jumped up on the island and started stalking Mateo’s breakfast. He slid a protective arm around his plate, marking his territory.
It was just enough movement to make the dog lift his sleepy head, give the air a quick sniff, realize company had arrived and go berserk.