He moved in front of her and put a finger under her chin, lifting her face. He lowered his mouth and brushed his lips over hers. It was the gentlest of kisses, unlike the ones he’d given her during their night together, where it seemed as if he wanted to devour her.
For some reason, his tenderness made her want to cry. After Danny, she’d built thick walls around herself, not letting anyone in. She’d done it to protect herself, but she’d been lonely. His soft kiss told her he cared, and she wasn’t ready for that. All she wanted from him was sex, not feelings.
“You have the softest lips,” he murmured against her mouth. He lifted his head, then stepped back. “Stand by a minute.” He went to a chest of drawers and returned a moment later with a soft gray T-shirt and handed it to her. “I assume you don’t want to sleep in your uniform?”
“Sleep?”
“You know, that thing you do when you close your eyes.”
“I thought...” That they were going to have sex, but obviously he wasn’t interested. She’d practically thrown herself at him, and now she was embarrassed.
“I know what you thought, but as much as I want you, not tonight.” He trailed the back of his hand down her cheek. “I don’t know if your offer was the wine talking, and I won’t take advantage of you. I won’t be your regret. When you’re thinking with a clear head, then you can tell me if the offer still stands. If it is, I’m all in.”
Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked them away. She’d never felt this protected and cared for. Not that she couldn’t protect herself, but her heart knew she could trust him to be there for her whenever she needed a helping hand, someone to stand at her side.
“Bathroom’s in there.” He waved to an open door. “There’s a new toothbrush in the drawer to the left of the sink.”
“Okay.” In the bathroom, she turned on the cold water and splashed her face. Her friends with benefits offer wasn’t a product of her wine-soaked brain, but she loved that he wanted to make sure. All they had to do was keep their affair secret and simple, and no one would get hurt.
Famous last words, a mocking voice said in her head.
Chapter Nineteen
When Skye walked out wearing nothing but his T-shirt—and maybe her panties, but he wasn’t sure about that—Tristan called himself three times a fool for telling her all they were going to do tonight was sleep.
At seeing him, she stopped and they stared at each other, the air between them hot and heavy. His T-shirt covered her to midthigh, leaving her legs bare, and her long hair fell down her back and over her shoulders. He groaned. He’d had one glass of wine hours ago at dinner, but he was drunk with desire and something else.
The something else was elusive. He didn’t have a name for it, but he wanted to explore it. He’d felt more than simple lust for her from the beginning, and he suspected they could be good together if she’d only open her mind to it.
Now he understood the reason for her walls. Her ex had done a number on her, but he wasn’t that man. The only thing he had in common with her ex was that they were both police officers. He just had to prove he would never hurt her, no matter what happened between them.
Before he forgot that sex was off the agenda—for tonight anyway—he glanced away, breaking their connection. He walked to the bed, then pulled back the covers. “In with you, my lady.”
She giggled, and it was a sound so foreign to the always-serious Skye he knew that he could only stare at her.
“What?”
“Nothing. Come on.” He vowed then and there to bring laughter into her life. And he would tear down those walls, one damn brick at a time. He thought, hoped, he’d obliterated a few tonight.
Once she was in his bed, he pulled the covers up to her chin. “I’ll be back.”
“Mmm.”
He chuckled. She was already drifting off. After a quick shower and wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and no shirt, he slipped into bed behind her. Her knees were curled up to her chest, her hands tucked under her chin, as if even in sleep, she kept that wall of protection around her.
She’d been hurt by a man who’d supposedly loved her, a man who’d betrayed her, and Tristan had never wanted to physically hurt someone before, but he’d like ten minutes in a room with Pretty Boy. He’d also never in his life felt so protective of a woman as he was her. He wrapped his body around hers. She sighed, as if even in sleep, she recognized he was keeping her safe.
Until her, he’d never met a woman he wanted to hand over his heart to, and funny thing...he’d been looking. Even though they’d been clueless when Parker brought Everly home, he’d loved having a baby in the house. They all had, and he wanted more kids running around this big house. He wanted to go to sleep holding the woman he loved, and he wanted to wake up with her in his arms.
Now here was a woman who resisted having any kind of personal relationship with him, and before her, he would have shrugged and moved on. Why her, he hadn’t a clue, but he wasn’t moving on, not from Skylar Morgan. He wanted her in his life with a longing he didn’t know what to do with.
Her hair tickled his nose, and he closed his eyes as he inhaled her scent. Why had he agreed to her absurd conditions? He did not want to be her dirty secret. He fell asleep devising ways to breach Skye’s defenses, starting first thing in the morning.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Tristan chuckled when Skye pulled the pillow over her head. “What was that?” he said when she muttered something.
“Muffermmph.”
“If you say so.” He picked up a piece of bacon, lifted her pillow, and waved the bacon under her nose. Her nose twitched, reminding him of a rabbit. She opened her mouth, and he let her take a bite, then took the rest away.