Page 25 of Worthy

“Cause they wanted a hook up. Madd’s better than that. If he’s into a guy it’s for more than his dick.”

“He told you that?”

“He didn’t have to. And I’m gonna respect it.”

“Oh, I get it. He doesn’t want you, so you respect him,” Deacon goads him. Cade doesn’t take the bait.

“I respect that he doesn’t see me as just something to fuck,” he says evenly.

Huh, maybe he did take my meaningless comment correctly.

“Okay, cool. So, you respect Maddox, which means he’s not getting your dick wet, so you’re free to go on the hunt for that bachelorette party this weekend,” Deacon insists.

“Damn you’ve got a one-track mind. How the hell are you the one with a degree when you can’t even focus on work for, like, two minutes?” Cade complains.

“It’s a gift.”

Cade chuckles, a cross between annoyed and amused. “Well, ‘gift’ me a hand so we can finish this and break for lunch. I need you to take me to my truck so I have a way to get out of here later.”

“I can just take you home.”

“I can’t leave without checking on Maddox and I don’t want to interfere with your prowling.”

“You’d rather play nurse than find someone who can deep throat? Who are you and what have you done with my cousin?” Deacon demands.

Either Cade answers too softly for me to hear, or he doesn’t have one to give.

***

“Come in,” I call when I hear a soft knock on the door. Cade pokes his head in, his searing blue eyes seeming to relax only after they’ve settled on me. I hate the way that makes my blood heat.

“How are you feeling?” He strides toward the couch where I’m lying down, ankle propped up.

“Okay.” I look at my puffy foot. “I still haven’t put much weight on it yet, but the swelling is down, and it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did.”

“Want me to take a look?”

His touch would only bring back the tingly feeling I shouldn’t pursue, but that doesn’t stop me wanting it. “Sure.”

I hold my breath as Cade’s fingers slide over my skin, so he doesn’t see how much his touch affects me. It’s so tender, and for a moment I imagine he’s touching me like that because he wants to, not because he thinks my injury means I need him to be gentle.

“It does look better. You’ve been icing it all day.”

“Yes.” I nod solemnly

“Good boy.”

Whatever blood isn’t currently filling my ankle starts rushing to my dick, and I discreetly pinch my thigh in an effort to derail my arousal with pain.

How is it he can take care of me and turn me on at the same time? And since when do I want to be a good boy? Damn I’m in trouble.

“Thanks again for looking out for me,” I rasp as I prop myself up to sitting. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done.”

“You kicking me out?” He looks at me warily, almost like he’s sad I’m giving him permission to go.

“No.” I shake my head. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me.”

“I don’t mind taking care of you.” His blue eyes look sincere, but I’m not sure I trust them.

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