Page 39 of Unbelonging
"This." He fell backward onto the sofa, taking me in a tumbled mess with him.
My dirt-covered legs and feet landed on the white upholstery, leaving dark smudges and scattered bits of fine mulch. If the sofa wasn't ruined, it would definitely need a professional cleaning.
I frowned.
"Stop thinking about it," he said. "You didn't get it dirty. I did."
"Only by a technicality."
"Forget it," he said. "Now c'mon, tell me what happened."
Where to start? Inside the brightly lit room, I suddenly felt incredibly awkward. There were no shadows to hide in, and no added clothes to cover my grubby legs and smudged skin. I lowered my face, peeking up at him through my lashes. "I just got locked out. Okay?"
He gave me a dubious look. "There's more to the story than that."
"Yeah, there is," I said. "And it's called stupidity. Can't we just leave it at that?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Stupidity?"
"Well, that and Chucky."
At this, a slow grin spread across his face. "Now,thatmakes sense. What? Did he outsmart you?"
"Hey," I said. "I'm smarter than a dog." Against all logic, I wanted to smile too. "Just not as devious."
He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "You sure you're okay?"
I couldn't help it. I gave in and smiled back. "Other than my wounded pride, I'm fine."
It was true. I was more than fine, actually. For that moment, nestled on his lap, I didn't care that I'd been locked out of the house. I didn't care that I was minus one job. And I didn't care that my legs were dirty or that my hair was wet and tangled.
The way he was looking at me, I felt not just beautiful, but warm and gooey all over. I was exactly where I wanted to be, and in a surreal way, it just felt right somehow.
Glancing down, I spotted new smudges marring the tattoos on Lawton's arms and chest. My smile faded. "I'm getting you all dirty."
"Chloe," he said, "you don’t know the half of it."
From the look in his eyes, it was pretty obvious he wasn't talking about his skin.
The cold had long since evaporated, and I felt a searing heat burn my face and other places, places covered by my clothes, as skimpy as they were. Slowly, I realized I was trembling again. And again, it had nothing to do with the temperature.
"Still cold?" he asked, making a move to pull away. "Need a blanket?"
I didn't release him. "No. I'm fine. Really."
His glanced down. "I'm being an ass, aren't I?"
"Huh?"
"Here, you are. You're sitting there shivering, locked out of the house, and for all I know, banged up." He pulled slightly away from me. His gaze travelled slowly over my body as if looking for bumps or bruises. When his gaze reached my breasts, he swallowed.
I could guess why. With every shift of my body, I could feel the hardness of my nipples brushing against the thin white fabric. It probably wasn't leaving much to the imagination.
His lips parted, and with a visible effort, his gaze kept on going. "Do you need a shower or bath or something?" he asked, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.
I could only imagine how I looked. I reached up to smooth my tangled hair. My hand came away with bits of dried leaves.
For some reason, it made me laugh. I'd been fantasizing about the guy for days now. But nowhere in any of my fantasies did I have crumbled leaves in my hair.
