Page 106 of Closer

“Helping.” He takes the spool from my hand. “Let me.”

He threads the machine, his movements sure and steady. He makes it look so easy. So natural.

Adorable. Damn him.

“There. Ready to give it a try?” He arches one brow in challenge.

I swallow hard. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can.” He takes my hand, guiding it to the fabric. “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

“We could have done this at home.”

His body goes rigid for a split second. “You don’t like it here?”

“It’s not that.” I squirm in his lap, heat rising to my cheeks. “Is this really necessary?”

“You know, I always loved it when you put your hair in a ponytail.” His breath is hot against my neck. “That way, I can see your cute ears blush.”

My face flames, and I fight, clapping my hands over my ears. “Shut up.”

“What?” He nuzzles the spot behind my ear. “It’s true.”

“Stop it.” I swat at his chest.

He laughs, the sound rich and deep. “You’re not denying it, though.” His hand finds mine, his fingers lacing through my own, the warmth of his touch both comforting and electrifying. “Give it another chance, princess. You might surprise yourself.”

Margo claps her hands again, drawing our attention back to the front of the room. “Alright, everyone! Let’s start sewing. Remember, take it slow and steady. You’ve got this!”

He nuzzles into my neck, his stubble rasping deliciously against my skin. “Focus on me. Forget everyone else.”

Easier said than done. But with his solid warmth surrounding me, his scent flooding my senses, it’s a little easier to breathe and to center myself in the moment.

His hands guide mine, his touch firm yet gentle, helping me position the fabric.

I can do this. It’s a machine. It can’t hurt me.

I inhale deeply and press my foot down on the pedal.

The machine starts whirring, the needle bobbing up and stitching a somewhat wobbly line across the fabric. His hands cover mine, helping me keep it straight.

“You’re doing great.” Pride seeps into his voice. “See? That’s my girl.”

We continue like that for a while, with his arms around me, his body solid and warm against my back. It’s hard to think about anything else. Hard to remember why I was so scared in the first place.

His hands never leave mine, his touch a silent promise. I’m here. I’ve got you.

Until he removes them, and I jerk back, the needle coming to a halt.

“Relax.” His fingers slide under the hem of my shirt, brushing against the bare skin of my stomach. “Start again.”

I shake my head.

“I said start it again, princess. And this time, don’t stop. You can do it.”

I ease my foot down on the pedal, continuing the stitches without his guidance. “We’re supposed to be learning.”

His lips brush the shell of my ear. “Oh, I’m learning plenty.”

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