Stirring Attraction(33)
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“That was an amazing kiss,” she murmured.
“Yeah, well, I think they heard it all the way in the bar.”
She laughed, her eyes bright and her face relaxed. Looking at her now, her fear felt like a distant memory. He knew it would return. And when it did . . . he’d bury his face between her legs.
As if she’d followed his thought process down the path marked “oral sex” and realized that one orgasm in the break-room bathroom was probably enough, she slid off the sink’s edge and drew her skirt down her legs.
“The mirror,” she gasped as if she’d just realized the mess they’d made. She looked back at him and laughed. “At least now I know you haven’t lost your touch for destructive orgasms.”
“That was all you, honey.” And my aching dick can back up that fact.
Her gaze swept down his front and lingered on the bulge in his cargo shorts. He didn’t move or try to adjust himself. She’d felt his hard-on when she’d rested her head in his lap last night, and again while they’d kissed. At this point, an erection felt like part of greeting her.
“We’ll get to your turn. But right now, I should get back to work. I don’t think Noah meant ‘take an hour off and wreck the bathroom’ when he offered me a break.”
“If Noah gives you trouble, send him back here. He can help me fix that cabinet.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And how are you going to account for the damage?”
“I wasn’t planning on offering him an explanation.”
She laughed as she walked out of the bathroom. The sound faded along with her footsteps. Then the swinging door creaked and she was gone.
He rested his hands on the vanity’s edge still warm from her naked skin and stared at the place on the wall where the mirror had hung when they’d first rushed into the room, hoping to hide. The ache in his hand pushed hard against his triumph. He’d asked his damaged hand to do too much and now he was paying for it. But it had been worth it. For a few minutes, he’d given them both a brief reprieve from fear and pain.
But it was just that—a break. Nothing more. If he wanted to help her, if he loved her, he needed to focus on making Lily feel safe. He needed to help her get her life back—one that was rooted here and didn’t include a fucked-up former ranger. He needed . . .
“To play bodyguard, not boyfriend.”
Chapter Ten
“EVERYTHING OK, LILY?”
Noah tossed out the question as he held up the service side to the bar. The room had filled since she’d left for her “break.” After the first week at Big Buck’s, she’d learned that the university crowd viewed four to five on Sunday afternoon as Bloody Mary and mimosa time. And they were halfway through that magical hour.
She’d heard that question over and over since the attack. But this time, her friend turned boss wasn’t referencing her recent trauma.
“How much did you overhear?” she asked.
“Enough to know I should send Caroline out to take drink orders and have Josie leave through the front with the baby.” He glanced at the back door. “Dominic still ‘reviewing the case file’ back there? Or is it safe to send the dishwasher to her station to keep up with this rush?”
“It’s safe. Though she might need to bring a broom. The mirror in the bathroom broke.”
“That must be some case file. But I’m glad he’s helping you.” Noah smiled as he handed her a printed list of drink orders. “I’ll tackle the Bloody Marys”—which she didn’t have a clue how to mix—“if you handle the mimosas.”
She turned and reached for three white-wine glasses.
“Lily.”
The first glass slipped through her fingers, but she caught it before it shattered on the floor. Then she turned to her new customer. “Ted. What a surprise.”
The man, who’d dumped her before their relationship fully launched into boyfriend/girlfriend territory, claimed a barstool across from her. His long, narrow face offered a concerned expression. She had a feeling he used the same carefully planned look at parent-teacher conferences.
“How are you, Lily?” he asked. “Are you OK?”
She’d received the same question minutes ago. But Ted delivered his with a boatload of pity versus sarcasm. Of course, the man sitting across the bar hadn’t heard her scream “Yes! Yes! Yes!” through the walls. She’d caught a few of the customers looking at her with a question in their eyes—what’s in the back room? And can I visit?—when she’d first walked out, but not Ted.