Page 48 of Sleep

“Hmm?”

“I was going to ask about…kissing. Do you think…it’s something you’d be interested in?”

Now it was me smiling. And nodding.

“I think so,” I said.

“Good. Let me know if you fancy giving it a go.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

18. Mabel

Iknew when to pounce and when to back off.

Right now was a major back-off moment, as Jonny’s body had gone from soft and pliant to hard as steel, and I didn’t mean that in any kind of sexy way. So, instead of draping myself across his chest and trying to tempt him into something he wasn’t ready for, I got up and made coffee, clumsily figuring out his sleek high-tech machine while he rummaged around, getting dressed. I couldn’t see him, I could tell from the slams of doors opening and closing, the clothes being flung on the bed.

A stray sock shot across the floor somewhere in my peripheral vision, then there he was, shirt and tie, combined with a pair of boxers and socks. I almost laughed at the lack of trousers. I didn’t, though, because he didn’t look right.

“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice low yet my eyes on him. I couldn’t fully read him, as he seemed to keep all his emotions locked up as soon as that tie tightened around his neck. I wanted to rip it off, or at least loosen it up enough that his shoulders would drop and he would smile and ask me for another hug.

I wanted to hug him again, was already imagining how it would feel, pressing my bare chest against his crisply ironed shirt. He hadn’t got that one from the pile of wrinkled ones on the floor, that was for sure.

His eyes flicked briefly to my body, making me look down too. My briefs were not the best. The elastic was torn on the side, and I wondered if the hem had held at the back. I hadn’t chosen my attire with any care, not expecting to end up where I had. Neither had he, and now here he was, having to deal with an almost-naked me in his kitchen first thing in the morning. No wonder he looked uncomfortable.

Shoving a cup of coffee into his hand, I grabbed my stuff from the sofa and went to the bathroom. Hair up in a ponytail, I whipped my skin into submission under hastily applied foundation, a smidge of blush, a touch of gloss, a quick lick of mascara. Slipping into the full-length skirt and cowl-neck jumper, I stood back and took in my reflection—presentable—then composed myself before returning to the living room, hoping he’d have calmed down. Perhaps donned some trousers.

“I have a conference call in ten minutes.” At least he was looking at me now. “Need to prepare. I’m so sorry, I’d love to have made you some breakfast and—”

“Jonny, it’s fine. I don’t expect anything. I need to go anyway. Things to do today.”

“I see.”

“And you need trousers.”

“I never wear trousers. Waste of time when people can only see the top half of me.”

Property tycoon or not, Jonathan Templar was a mess. A child.

Still, he made me smile. Oh Mabel, you bloody fool.

“Jonny, listen,” I said before I lost my nerve. “I can’t just jump into having some kind of relationship with you when I have so much going on that I still haven’t dealt with. I don’t have a job. I don’t have a home. I am so bloody lost in all this, and I still haven’t talked to Mark.”

“I understand,” he said quietly. Shirt and tie or not, he’d lowered his guard, and suddenly I could read him again, loud and clear. Fear. All that fear. It shone like a dark halo around him.

“I need to sort myself out. Get my ducks in a row.”

“Ducks,” he muttered.

“Ducks,” I repeated, taking a step closer to him. I couldn’t help it, the way I was drawn to him. Even before I knew him like this, when he’d just been a regular diner at work, if he’d appeared, I’d walk his way. I couldn’t explain it. Nor could I explain why I put my finger under his chin and lifted his head so he was looking at me. “I’m going to go home, make a start at getting my life back on track, not get swept up in a moment that the two of us will regret.”

“No regrets,” he said stubbornly. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again. I’m not something you’ll have to fight for. I know what I want. What I need. You just have to be…here. I’ll look after you.”

“Sounds like you want to be my sugar daddy.”

He let out a small giggle. Shoulders down, Jonny. Relax.

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