She remained there against him for a full minute, proof of just how exhausted she really was.
“Okay,” she finally agreed. “Thank you.”
—
Jake lived in a gated community, beautiful from what she could tell driving in. The yards were dark but filled with landscapes backlit with tiny garden lights. The backseat was quiet. Casey, her chaperone, her buffer, the one who allowed her to spend more time with Jake without losing her head, had fallen asleep halfway here.
They entered quietly and Jake directed her to a guest room to lay Casey down. She told herself it wasn’t like she’d planned for this to happen. It was only eight thirty and who would have thought Casey would fall asleep? But two rounds of swimming and no nap? She shouldn’t be surprised. Boulder joined them and jumped up, making himself comfortable at the foot of the bed.
Paige returned to the main room of Jake’s sprawling ranch-style house and found him standing at the stove. She stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, partly unsure what to do next, partly dead on her feet. “Hey.”
“Hey. Is she asleep?”
“Yes. With Boulder at the foot of the bed. Hope that’s okay.”
“Sure. He usually sleeps with me. If she doesn’t mind, I don’t mind. Spaghetti okay? I already made the sauce. Shouldn’t take too long.”
She smiled at the man who was becoming all too familiar. “Yes. Thank you.” And he cooked too. “I figured you for a man who ate out a lot.”
“No. Not really. Just the diner,” he said, looking back at her over his shoulder with a sexy grin. “Though that wasn’t just about the food.”
Good Lord. His brown eyes melted her from across the room and his voice finished her off. The man should be illegal. Just his presence brought life to places inside her body she didn’t even know could feel lively.
He stalked across the room, not stopping until he was close enough she could smell him. He touched her cheek softly then laid his hands on her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “You’re exhausted.” He kissed her temple.
She was. She’d stayed up until almost one in the morning studying and had been on her feet almost ten hours straight.
“Have a seat and I’ll pour you some wine.”
He went back to the oven and she walked around the granite peninsula that divided the large, open room. Oversized brown leather furniture dominated the space and a giant flat-screen hung over the mantel. The walls were mostly bare except for a long built-in bookcase packed with books, no knickknacks.
“Casey had chicken fingers in the dining hall. Did I tell you that?”
“No, but thank you.”
He returned and handed her a glass, but instead of pouring one for himself, he set the bottle of wine on the counter. “I even got her to eat some salad, which wasn’t easy. Turn around.”
“Casey ate salad? Now I am impressed.” When she didn’t immediately obey, he turned her and she sighed as he went to work on her shoulders. His hands were so much better than wine, and she stared at her glass through tired eyes. In seconds, her eyelids fell closed and her chin dipped to her chest. “If I drink this, I won’t be able to drive home.”
“So don’t drive home.”
Tempting, so tempting. “How did you really make out today? Casey’s rarely quiet.”
“It was fine. Better than fine and she had fun. We did the scans and she watched the machine make the 3-D mold. She thinks I’m magic now.”
“Mmm.” His hands certainly felt like magic. “I think I may be too tired to eat.”
“You work too hard.”
She didn’t have the energy to argue and nearly whimpered when he pressed his thumbs deeper, slid them up the column of her neck. She couldn’t get used to this either, being taken care of. “Mmm.” A sound of ecstasy hummed through her.
“I’ll be off in a couple of weekends.”
He continued to rub and her head lolled. “I should get Casey home. I’m too tired to be productive.”
“She’s asleep. It’s late.” He kissed the back of her head. “Stay. Let me feed you.”
It would be nice to stay, too nice, but how many meals had he already provided? She had her budget worked down to the penny. She wouldn’t use him, depend on him. But she wanted to be here. “I feel icky. I’m sure I smell like the diner.”
“You don’t look icky.” His hands moved down her arms, then back to her shoulders before he nuzzled her neck, then up her throat. “You don’t smell icky.” He kissed her behind her ear, nibbled on her earlobe, and her body zinged to life. “But why don’t you take a shower before you eat if it’ll make you feel better? Use my bathroom so you don’t wake Casey.”