Page 31 of Reaching Little Robyn

“Caring, not demented”—he swooped her up again—“and I’ll try, but no promises. Now, I know it’s a little early, but youdidn’t eat any dinner and I’m pretty sure that was your lunch I interrupted yesterday. Are you hungry?”

She was about to say no, not wanting to put him out further, but the mere mention of food had her stomach growling its approval at the suggestion.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Do you want to eat downstairs or in bed?”

Robyn looked at her bed, smiling when she saw the stuffie sitting beside her pillow. “I don’t want to keep you up. It’s not even five yet. You’ve got to be tired.”

“I’m fine, and to tell the truth, I wouldn’t mind eating another one of those scones. Best one I’ve ever had.”

Pleasure coursed through her at the compliment. “Then how about I get changed and we can go downstairs? That way you won’t have to carry me back down later?”

“We can do that. Just tell me what you want to put on.”

Yep. Not like other girls who had men who were far more concerned about what they would take off.

“I think I can manage.”

“True. You could hop about until you’ve exhausted yourself and awakened every guest in the house, or…”

You can keep fighting it, or stop being a stubborn mule and just admit you need help, girl.

“Just to be clear, I’m doing this as a concerned proprietor and not because I need a man to help me.”

“Never thought otherwise,” he lied smoothly, gently setting her down on the bed.

It was only when he stepped away that she realized the condition of his clothing. Or lack of. His chest was totally bare. How she’d managed to miss that she had no clue. But seeing him standing a foot away in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, was making breathing a bit difficult. What would happen if she reached out and gave that little whitestring a pull? Would the cloth slide effortlessly down his legs or perhaps get hung up on?—

“Did you fall asleep on me?”

“Huh?” She lifted her gaze and knew by the smirk tugging at his lips that he had a good idea where her thoughts had gone.

“Clothes?”

Mine or yours?

Pulling her thoughts away from that cliff, she said, “I think a dress will be easier to manage with my ankle. My, um, undies are in the top two drawers.” She pointed to the dresser that was tucked inside her small closet.

The moment he stepped away, she grabbed for the stuffie, running her hands over him while watching Rooster pick out a mint green dress with a darker green belt. When he opened the top drawer, Robyn felt her cheeks heating, but when he made what sounded like a muffled growl, she felt the heat moving to flood her sex. It seemed to be taking far longer than it should to pick out a bra and pair of panties, but when she saw him reach down and adjust himself in the sweats he was wearing, she’d admit it made her feel a bit like those other girls after all.

Finally, he turned and brought his choices to the bed. He’d picked a white set of lingerie that had a small pink rosebud at the center of the bra as well as a matching one in the center of the back of the panties that would rest right above the crack of her ass.

“Thank you,” she said as if he’d brought her nothing more than a cup of coffee. When he didn’t move, she giggled. “I really do think I can take it from here. And, unless you plan on giving my guests coronaries, I suggest you might wish to change too.”

“Oh, right. I’ll, um, I’ll go put a shirt on. If you need me?—”

“I’ll ring the bell,” she assured him.

By the time he gave a soft knock on her door, she’d managed to dress though it had taken more out of her than she’d thoughtit would. He seemed to recognize that the moment he saw her after she’d invited him to come in.

“Too much activity,” he said. “I’ve got an ice pack and a better brace downstairs. Do you have some ibuprofen?”

“In the medicine cabinet.” She pointed to her bathroom.

She took the pills he placed into her hands with the water he’d filled a cup with from her sink. He handed her both her phone and the bell before picking her up. When he padded quietly across the kitchen floor to set her on a chair at the table, she realized he was barefoot.

“Are you going barefoot in some sort of show of solidarity?”

He chuckled. “No, but boots make a lot of noise on the stairs. I’ll go back up and grab them in a bit. But first, coffee.”

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