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“Har, har,” I say before turning to Millie. “Honey, this is Carrie. She takes care of the house and me half the time.”

Carrie tucks a few gray strands of hair behind her ear. “Yep, so now I won’t have to quit, it seems. Your girl’s here now, so I’m hoping you’re going to be a little nicer to be around.” Her smile deepens as she looks at Millie, and I can tell she already likes her. “All I can say is good luck.”

Millie laughs, and I can already tell that these two are going to be thick as thieves together. “I haven’t been that bad.”

“Ha!” Carrie spits out and starts laughing. “I love you like a son, and I quit my job five times today. Yes, you’ve been that bad.”

I shake my head. It’s all a joke, but honestly I don’t know what I’d do without Carrie. “You wouldn’t ever leave me. You love me.”

“I just said I did,” she deadpans with an eyeroll at Millie. “That concussion’s got him messed up more than he’s letting on. I’m going to go back to my room for the night. I know Millie came straight from work, so I’ve left you some dinner on the counter. Just call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Carrie,” Millie says to the retreating woman.

“Sure thing, honey. I’m hoping to see more of you.”

Millie blushes when she looks at me, as if she’s trying to gauge my reaction to Carrie putting us together. The fact is, I’m hoping for the same thing. I want Millie around. More than I should probably admit for only knowing her a short time. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“So what do you think? We eat, then find a television somewhere in this big house and maybe turn the lights down real low –”

“And you’ll let me hold you while we pretend to watch television.” Even I can hear the hope in my voice.

She lifts her shoulders in defeat. “Sure. If it will get you to rest, I’m game.”

Because I can’t resist a minute longer, I kiss her. It’s a brief kiss. One that reminds me of exactly how explosive we can be together. I pull away and show her to the kitchen. Picking up the plates, I ask her to grab two drinks out of the refrigerator.

“What do you want?” she asks.

“I’m good with water.”

She grabs two waters. “Me too.”

“Follow me.” I lead her into the living room, and she gasps behind me. No doubt because of the room. I get this reaction a lot.

“This is your living room?”

I set the plates on the coffee table and grab a remote that lifts the top up to the perfect height to eat from. “Yep. Have a seat.”

She’s looking all around the room, her mouth hanging open. “This is, wow, this is amazing.”

I try to look at it from her perspective. The floor is carpeted in a thick ivory beige, which Carrie hates. She has to have the cleaners come at least once a month to clean it. The furniture is big, dark chocolate wood. The couch is huge and takes up most of the room. The wall hangings are ones that I had specially painted of my favorite spots on my ranch. But probably the centerpiece of the whole room is the big screen television hanging from the ceiling. I spared no expense on this room because it’s where I am most of the time when I’m home. “Thanks, sugar. I’m glad you like it.”

She sits down on the couch and starts to fidget. “Austin, what am I doing here?”

I sit down next to her and wrap my hand around her knee. “I was sort of hoping you’re here because you wanted to be here.”

“I do. I mean, I wanted to make sure you were all right. I should go.”

I laugh and put my hands on her waist when she tries to get up. She falls back to the couch in a huff. “This is crazy. I don’t belong here.”

“I say you do.” I give her one of my charming smiles, but she’s still stubbed up and looking uncomfortable.

“Look, I’m going crazy here. My doctor says to rest, and I’m willing to do that since you’re here with me. We’ll eat. We’ll watch some TV. We’ll get to know each other.”

I try to adjust how I’m sitting and wince as I feel my ribs catch. I suck in a deep breath of air and try to readjust. “Are you okay?” she asks worriedly.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I tell her with bated breath. I try to smile, but I know it’s only a grimace that appears on my face.

The only saving grace for being in pain is the fact that it looks like I might get some sympathy from Millie. She grabs my plate off the coffee table and holds it out to me. “Here you go. Eat.”


Tags: Hope Ford Erotic