Page 24 of Fool Me Once

“Good morning,” I say, leaning against the counter. “How did you sleep? Hopefully well, considering you stole my bedbuddy.”

I wish you’d be my bed buddy instead of my dog’s,I’d like to say, but I can’t.

“I can’t help it that he likes me more,” she tosses back playfully.

Like a fucking pussy, my heart melts when I hear her joke around a bit.

“I slept pretty good.” She smiles softly. “The fan helped. It also helped to drown out Storm’s snoring.”

I bob my head up and down slowly. “Yep, I forgot to mention that, didn’t I? Dude snores like an eighty-year-old grandpa.”

“So, if you think about it, you should be thanking me for taking him off your hands.” She shrugs. “I mean, you had peace and quiet, and I had … that guy.” She waves toward Storm, and his ears perk up.

“Yeah, I suppose you have a point,” I agree with her. “I brewed coffee, and there’s sugar cookie creamer in the refrigerator.” I pause, grimacing. “I figured I’d try it out, and I had to toss my first cup this morning. That shit is disgusting.”

“How did you know I like that kind?” She looks at me, confused, then rolls her eyes and lets a slow grin pull at her lips. “Saylor. Who am I kidding? I should have known the answer already.”

I hold up my phone. “Yep. She gave me a whole list of things to get the day before you moved in. I’ll tell you, I’m pretty sureherlist would be a lot longer since she’s a diva and all.”

She giggles before an expression that is every bit as happy as it is sad covers her face, and she swallows. “She’s a good one, that girl. I hope she loves South Carolina.”

“I hope South Carolina is ready for her,” I utter, widening my eyes. “Hurricane Saylor is about to stir some shit up.”

“She’s going to do great,” she says easily. “I know it.”

Turning away from her, I reach up in the cupboard and grab a cup before walking over to the corner and filling it with coffee. It’s obvious she isn’t comfortable here yet, and I can’t really blame her for that. Between all she’s endured and us spending so much time apart, I’m practically a stranger to her now.

I set it down on the countertop, next to where she stands, before opening the refrigerator, getting out the world’s most disgusting creamer, and putting it beside the cup.

Her cheeks turn red, and she looks down. “Th-thank you,” she utters nervously, and I fucking hate the nervousness in her tone simply from a cup of coffee.

She’s a shell of who she was before, and I can’t stand it.

All I want to do is comfort her, and it’s taking every bit of willpower in my being not to walk up to her, grip her cheek, and kiss her lips. I’ve missed everything about her since the last night we spent together, but I can’t do any of that shit. Not after everything she’s been through.

She’s skittish, so I’ve tried to balance that with giving her plenty of space and not being overbearing. And she’s angry with me for the past, so I haven’t pushed talking too much because I know I blew my chance at asking her anything about her life. But now that my sister is in a different state, I hope Gemma will lean on me to be her person.

I fucking want to be her person again so badly.

“Well, I have to head to the arena,” I say, tucking my phone into my pocket. “The code to the gate and the keys to the white truck in the garage are in that spinny thing on the table. If you need to go anywhere, it’s all yours.”

She’s mid-pour of the creamer, which appears to be half the damn bottle, when she snorts. “I’m not driving your truck, Smith.”

“Why not?” I shrug. “If you don’t like that one, you can have the black one instead.”

Her eyes narrow when she sets the creamer down and gazes at me. “I’m not drivinganyof your vehicles, Smith. They are too nice, and I just … I don’t want to.”

“What if you need to go somewhere?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “What if you run out of your shitty coffee creamer?”

Raising her cup, she holds it out before bringing it to her lips. “Then, I’ll order some more to be delivered to the house because, nowadays, we can do shit like that.”

I’m frustrated with her right now because I hate the thought of her feeling stuck here in this house. I don’t know what her man put her through before she came to Maine, but if she ever felt trapped, that’s the last thing I’d want her to feel like with me. But she just moved in yesterday. Rome wasn’t built in a day, just like it’ll take a helluva lot more than one day to take down her walls.

“All right,” I say, letting it go. “But if you change your mind, the keys are in the black one.” I jerk my chin toward Storm. “He loves rides, by the way.”

Even though I have a tracker on both of my trucks—which I put in them last night in case she went anywhere because I don’t have a fucking clue what her ex might do—I’d like her to have extra protection by taking Storm with her. I have no doubt that if someone attacked her, he wouldn’t let it slide.

“Noted,” she utters, taking another sip of her coffee. “Have a good day.”

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