Page 98 of Buried Too Deep

You want her to find you useful.

You want her to find you…worthy. Worthy of keeping. Worthy of wanting.

Because you want her, too.

He wanted to tell that voice in his head to shut up, but it was right. On all of it. He wanted Cora Winslow. He wanted to feel her up against him, wanted to know what she tasted like. He wanted her to trust him with more than her safety. He wanted her to trust him with her pleasure, because he didn’t think she’d had nearly enough of that in her life.

But he also wanted to be useful, and that was a more likely ending to their story. Being truly useful to someone he cared about was what got him through each day. It was what had kept him coming back to Broussard Investigations every time he’d spiraled and bolted, even though he’d never be an official member of the firm.

They cared about him, of course. They’d trained him to take on more responsibility, and he appreciated that so very much. But, at the end of the day, he was not a bodyguard. He was not a PI. He was their handyman and their night security.

Even when he hadn’t been able to be what they were, they’d still needed him.

But not like Cora Winslow needed him. Hers was short-term need, but he didn’t care. He felt more alive sitting on her cold floor than he had in a long time.

Maybe ever.

Her bedroom door creaked open, causing him to jolt to full awareness. She stood in the doorway wearing her bathrobe and fuzzy socks.

At least her feet weren’t bare this time.

In her arms, she carried more blankets and two pillows. “Still can’t sleep,” she said quietly.

He’d been afraid of that. She’d been completely wired when Detective Clancy had finally taken his leave after getting their statements about the break-in. Phin had hoped her adrenaline would crash and she’d sleep out of sheer exhaustion, but it didn’t look like that was the case.

“The house is locked up like Fort Knox,” he said. “The alarm’s set and I checked all the doors and windows myself.”

“I know and I trust that.” She crossed the hall and stood above him, looking down to meet his eyes. “I trust you. I’m just…my mind won’t be quiet.”

I trust you.

She probably shouldn’t. He would let her down eventually. He wouldn’t mean to, but it was pretty much a given.

“Did you finish the dragon book?” he asked.

She sighed. “I can’t even read. I blink and realize that I’ve just been staring at the same page for fifteen minutes. I’ve never not been able to lose myself in a book. Even when John Robert was so sick.” She bit at her lip. “Can I sit out here with you?”

Of course she could. It was her house. But he knew that wasn’t what she meant.

He moved his gun to the other side of his body and patted the floor beside him. “We can make a pillow fort.”

She laughed, her face lighting up for the briefest of moments. It made him feel…proud.

She settled next to him, offering him the extra blankets. “I don’t have enough pillows for a fort, but we can stay warm. I think the furnace is on the fritz again.”

“I think you’re right. I’ll take a look at it tomorrow.”

Together they spread the blankets, SodaPop scooting up until only her head was visible. They stuffed the pillows behind their backs and Cora pulled the blankets to her chin.

Their arms were under the soft covers, but not touching.

Not yet. His hand itched to reach for hers, but he’d let her make the first move. This was as vulnerable as he’d ever seen her.

Cora leaned against the wall with a weary sigh. Her shoulder was pressed against his, but her head rested on the wall. She turned just her head to look up at him. “Were you actually asleep?”

“No. I’m usually awake at night anyway. I’m the night security for Burke.”

“Oh right. You did tell me that.”

---