Page 53 of Someone to Watch Over Me

“There’s good news and bad news.”

“Huh?”

“The good news is you were looking up how long we need to wait to have sex. The bad news is that it’s six to eight weeks. I don’t think I’ll make it that long now that I know how great it is to kiss you and hold you.” He nuzzles my neck and sets off more pyrotechnics inside me, making me wonder how I’ll last that long either.

“There’s more good news,” I tell him. “The same site said that kissing and snuggling and hand-holding is fine, as long as we don’t put any strain on your heart. And it said that you should be the passive partner at first.”

His whole body goes taut. “Oh my God, the images that just flashed through my mind nearly gave me another heart attack.”

“Tom!” I sputter with laughter, even though it’s not funny. “Cut that out.”

“Sorry, but it’s true. The thought of Lexi Nelson ‘tending to me’ is the hottest thing I can imagine.”

“Lexi Nelson is seriously out of practice, so don’t get too excited.”

“Too late. I’m already excited.”

I tell myself not to look, but I can’t help it.

Gulp.

“Is that good for your heart?”

“My heart has never felt better than it does right now.” He takes my hand and places it over the bulge in his sweats that extends all the way to his abdomen. Holy moly. Tom Hammett is huge.

Like a kid set loose in a candy store, I want to feel every bit of him, but then I regain my sanity and pull back my hand.

He groans loudly.

“I’m so afraid of doing something to set back your recovery.”

“Leaving me in this condition will set me back.”

“It will not.”

“Yes, it will.”

I feel like I’m discovering a whole new side to him since our relationship moved from friendship to romance. This flirty, sexy version of him is chipping away at any defenses I had left where he was concerned.

“I should get to bed. Back to work tomorrow.” Nothing can ruin a mood faster for me than thinking about the job I hate.

“Come sleep with me. Snuggling is good for my recovery.”

I want to. God, I really want to, but I’m so afraid of him overexerting himself. “Not tonight. Let’s save that for when you’re back to full strength.”

“I promise I won’t get worked up.”

That makes me laugh. “That’s an empty promise.”

“It’s far from empty, as I just demonstrated.”

I give him a gentle nudge to let me up, even though the last thing I want to do is end this perfect day.

He releases me, and I get up, straightening hair that has become a wild nest of curls from lying around all day. I offer him a hand up.

“I’m only accepting your help because I want to touch you, not because I need it.”

“Noted.”

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