Page 111 of Craving Francesca

“I guess so, yeah.” I’d never thought about it that way before, but he wasn’t wrong.

“You gonna stay home or work?”

“Well, Tommy said I can make my own hours, so if I don’t fuck that up, I can probably do both.”

“Tommy said what?”

“Oh, yeah.” I leaned up to look at him. “Tommy called and offered me a job tonight. Same pay and benefits I have now, but he said I can make my own hours and work from home.”

“But you’ll have to work for his crazy ass.”

“That’s true.”

“Seems like a fair trade.”

“That’s what I thought, too. He wants me to come for dinner this week to do all the paperwork.”

“Good news.”

“I’m not scheduled to go back in until the day after tomorrow, but I think I’m just going to go in the morning and get it over with.” I lay back down, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’d rather not worry about it all day.”

“No reason to wait,” he agreed.

“Could you come with me?” The question grated. I hated the idea that I wasn’t capable enough to go into the office by myself—but I couldn’t deny the relief I felt once I’d said it.

“Of course.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” I said quickly. “Just, you know, help me carry my stuff out of my office.”

“You needed me to stand on one foot, pat my head, and rub my belly, I’d do it,” he replied easily.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” I patted his chest.

For the first night since we’d broken the seal, we didn’t have sex. I fell asleep curled up next to him, his arm curled tightly around my back. He kicked the top quilt off of us at some point because he got too hot, but I didn’t even notice. I actually hadn’t even missed the weight of the blankets our entire trip—the arm around me had been the only thing I’d needed.

When I woke up the next morning and found Gray looking at me, I groaned and rolled away.

“Mornin’.” He smiled.

“I told you I was a yeller,” I reminded him with a wince.

“You weren’t lyin’.”

“To be fair, you yelled, too.”

“I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have.” His expression was full of remorse.

“Well, now I just feel worse,” I whined.

“It’s different,” he said, shaking his head.

“How exactly is it different?”

“I could hurt you,” he replied bluntly. “You get mad and yell, I don’t like it, but I wouldn’t beafraid. A man yells at a woman, and her first instinct is fear.”

“That’s not true.”

He looked at me like I was crazy.

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