Page 62 of Protecting Mr. Fine

I took the first sip as I began talking him through the process of browning the sausage. He’d already preheated the oven and had everything else prepped on the counter.

“How do you know how to do this stuff?” he asked as I moved around him to hand him various spices and instruct him on how much to add.

“Gran made all of us learn. We had to do our share growing up. She was especially diligent with me and JK since she insisted men needed to be helpful to their wives.”

We shared a snicker over that. “Your poor nonexistent wife,” he teased. “Doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

“I would have been a hell of a husband,” I joked. “Always gone.”

“Making millions,” he added.

“Always exhausted.”

“Beloved by the world,” Bear pointed out.

I made a joke to cover my discomfort. “Always dreaming about sucking dick.”

He laughed. “Ah, therein lies the rub.”

“Poor wife.”

“I believe you mean poor Carrie-Beth,” he tossed back with a smirk before adding the drained sausage to the rest of the ingredients.

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

Bear bounced his eyebrows at me. “You touched her boob once. She’s clearly never forgotten. It must have been epic. She’s fantasized about becoming Mrs. Hendley and having mini Hendleys ever since.”

“Barlos, more like,” I tossed out, not really meaning much by it. But the correction erased Bear’s teasing grin.

“Yeah, probably. Sorry. I hate that for you.”

I shrugged. “I’m usedto it. It’s fine.”

He slid the casserole dish into the oven and set a timer on his phone before walking up to me and putting his hands on my sides. He lifted me up and set me on the counter before pushing between my legs and wrapping his arms around my back. “Why do you do that?”

Bear was so close. So tempting. I wanted to do so many things. Kiss him wildly. Bury my face in his chest and simply breathe him in. Ask him if we could get naked in bed and spend the rest of the day fucking.

Confess that I had a crush on him and fantasized about him being more than my bodyguard.

“Do what?” I asked nervously. Did any of those thoughts show on my face?

“Say you’re fine all the fucking time,” he growled. “Fucking drives me fucking crazy.”

“That’s a lot of fucks,” I said, hearing the breathy sound in my voice. He was so close. So hot. So incredibly open to kissing and touching me. Why were we talking right now?

His big hand came up to hold my face so he could peer into it. “I said this the other day, but in case you’ve forgotten: I don’t want yourfines, Zane. I want your real feelings. But here’s the thing… I don’t think you tellyourselfyour real feelings. I don’t think you let yourself have any.”

I inhaled a shaky breath. “That’s… a lot for first thing in the morning.”

And it was the opposite of sexy.

Bear studied me for a moment. “Want me to back off?” He started to pull away, but I grabbed his shirt and held him close.

“No.”

He studied me again but didn’t say anything. I smoothed his shirt over his chest and stomach as an excuse to feel the ridges of muscles beneath it.

“I, ah…” I looked down at my hand and the smooth performance fabric. For some reason, a trivia factoid hit my brain. “This fabric is called Elustre. It’s, um. Environmentally friendly or something. I read an article on it once.”

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