Next to a sheaf of stapled papers sits a large to-go cup, the kind with the plastic lid and the paper sleeve. A curl of steam rises from the hole in the lid.
Drawn toward it as if magnetized, I cross to the island, pick up the cup, and sniff. The delicious, nutty scent of strong coffee greets my nostrils, making my mouth water. I crack open the lid and grin in delight when I see that black gold.
If this was meant for anyone else, they’re out of luck. I’m claiming this sucker. I take a sip, closing my eyes in ecstasy when the coffee hits my tongue. It’s exactly how I like it: unsweetened and scalding hot.
Sighing in pleasure, I open my eyes…and find Theo standing in the kitchen doorway.
“Oh. Hi.” I feel flustered and guilty, as if he caught me masturbating.
Theo points at the cup in my hand, then gives me an inquisitive thumbs-up.
“Yes, it’s perfect. Did you do this?”
He nods.
“Thank you. I can’t function without coffee in the morning.”
He nods again. I know it’s only my imagination that thinks he’s saying I know, but now I’m even more flustered. Get your shit together, Megan. Focus.
I straighten my shoulders and put on my boss-lady face. “So this is the contract, I take it?” I point at the paperwork, and he gives me a thumbs-up. “Okay. I’ll look it over right now and let you know if I have any questions.”
Another incline of his head, this one looking regal. He’s calmer than I’ve ever seen him. His entire aspect is lighter, as if the thunderclouds that permanently follow him around have opened to let rays of sunlight shine through.
He looks at home standing there in the doorway to my kitchen. At home and at peace.
Why that should make me feel so good, I don’t know. But some part of me, a small, dark corner of my heart, just exhaled the breath it’s been holding since I met him.
“Theo Valentine,” I say quietly, holding his warm gaze. “Welcome to my home. I’m trusting you with the most important thing in my life. Don’t screw it up.”
His mouth bursts into a huge, glowing grin, devastating in its beauty. His entire face is transformed, as if there’s another man hiding beneath that mask of scowls he normally wears, waiting to break free.
He swaggers over, pulls a pen from his back pocket, flips over the contract, and scrawls onto it.
You’re crabby in the morning.
“No, I’m crabby this morning,” I correct, reading around his shoulder. “My house almost burned down last night, remember?”
Except it didn’t.
I read the words he’s written, then glance up at his face. He gazes down at me with a secret little smile, lashes lowered, a lock of dark hair flopping onto his forehead. Then he winks.
The man winks.
I say drily, “Yes, Superman, you saved the day. And before I sign this paperwork, you’re going to tell me how you came to be outside my house last night at the exact moment a fire started inside the damn walls.”
His expression sours. He begins to turn away, but I grab his biceps. I’m shocked when I find a stony, bulging muscle beneath my hand. I knew he was big, but I had no idea he was made of steel.
At my touch, he freezes. Nostrils flaring, he glances down at my hand on his arm, then looks back up at me. I half expected his gaze to reflect irritation or disdain, but what I see in those expressive brown eyes of his is a depth of suffering so bottomless, it leaves me breathless.
He looks at me as if I’m torturing him with my touch. As if the mere laying of a few fingers on his clothed arm has caused him such misery, he might not be able to stand upright much longer. The rawness, the palpable realness of his pain is astonishing.
I snatch my hand back and stare at him in confusion, knowing I’ve made a terrible mistake, but not knowing how or why.
Then I’m horrified to realize I touched his left arm. The side that would’ve sustained the most damage in his accident, if, as Suzanne had said, he was broadsided by the other car.
I look at the ragged white scar over his left eyebrow, the snarl of scar tissue running down the left side of his neck, and blurt, “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I’ve hurt you!”
I back away a step but am prevented from going any farther when Theo grabs my wrist. I suck in a startled breath, then we stand there, staring at each other in a cavernous silence so tense, it crackles.
His gaze drops to my mouth. He swallows and moistens his lips, and a wave of heat spreads across my chest and up my neck. My heart starts to pound like mad, the drum of it drowning out everything else.
His gaze snaps back up to mine. I know he sees the effect he’s having on me, because his eyes darken and a ruddy flush creeps over his cheeks.