Page 17 of Garnish with a Candy Cane
My absolute assurance earns me a frustrated eye roll. I’m nothing but decisive and she should realize that fact now. Yet, she’s holding back. No longer arguing but not accepting either.
“You’re very smug.”
“I’m very honest.”
“I hope so.”
Unable to control myself any longer, I stroke her bare shoulders caressing the softest skin I’ve ever felt under my fingertips. She leans into my touch but still doesn’t let go of her anxiety completely.
“Before I agree to anything from you, you have to agree to something from me.”
Once again she busts my balls, and I fucking love her resiliency. She’s sweet but not a pushover. “What?”
“I have to give two weeks’ notice for my jobs. That’s what responsible people provide so their boss has time to find and train the replacement.”
“Not your problem.”
The frustrated growly scream she suppresses in her throat spears straight to my dick. “Itismy problem because I care about these people. I know what a hassle it is when someone calls in sick or doesn’t show up and everyone else has to hustle to cover for them not being there. I don’t want to do that to them. They’re my friends.”
“Now you’re the one who’s too good to be true.”
Intent on her negotiation tactics, she ignores my compliment. “Besides. I want Nana to be proud of me. I don’t want her to ever hear that I was irresponsible and left people hanging. She’d be disappointed in me for being selfish.”
“She knows you’re a good person.”
“Then I can’t stop being good just because you want me to do things your way. I have to keep beingme.”
Me.
That’s exactly right. I’m falling in love with her because of exactly who she is and can’t change that for my own desires. I refuse to ruin her because I’m a greedy prick. “Okay, Duchess. Two weeks.”
“Really?”
Relief that ironically leaves me unsettled relaxes her taut expression. More than hopeful – fuck I’m desperate – for her to believe me when I’ve never been desperate for anything until her. “Really.”
“Okay.” She looks down at her glossy black slippers, talking more to herself than to me. “I can do this.”
I fucking hate her trying to bolster herself, thinking she needs to muster her resolve to survive me and what I’m doing. I slide my hand under her chin and lift her face to meet my gaze. “What do you think you have to do?”
“Nothing. I just…”
Words unspoken are often the most powerful. “Tell me.”
She argues with herself rather than me before smiling a bittersweet smile. “Two weeks gives you time to change your mind.”
Motherfucker. Now I know what she was thinking – what she was trying to hide from me. I cup her cheeks, holding her exquisite face as well as her huge heart in my hands. “No Duchess. Two weeks gives me time to change yours.”
He makes it almost impossible not to believe him. If he’s acting, he’s the best actor I’ve ever seen. Forever patient with Nana and with me, he remains consistently optimistic. Nothing seems to diminish his enthusiasm. Not Nana peppering him with endless questions throughout dinner. Not him paying for the decorators, remodelers, and nurses to make her move as smooth as possible. Not me leaving to go to work before we were able to spend any time alone together, which I know he wants from his big hand massaging my thigh during our entire meal.
Never arguing except for the ride to my apartment so I could change into my uniform. I told him once again I could get myself home on my own. Of course, he insisted once again, he wouldn’t allow me to be unprotected. Overbearing yet sweet, he mystifies me as well as myself since I’m somehow falling under his spell and letting him take care of me. More than I want and less than he demands, we can’t seem to find a way to compromise at all. Yet that still doesn’t discourage him. Or me.
With one last glance in the mirror, I catch myself smiling. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are bright from my reaction to him. Just a crush I want to tell myself but I know deep down my feelings are stronger than that. His are too when I step out from my bedroom and almost slam into him in the hallway. My heart flips in my chest from the realization he was just as anxious to see me as I am to see him. His sexy grin slides down and off faster than my racing pulse after his gaze travels down my body to my halter and skirt and back up again.
“The fuck Duchess!”
Suddenly insecure from his obvious disgust, I glance down at myself too. I mean I’m not a model or anything but I think I look okay. “What? What’s wrong?”
“You arenotfucking wearing that!”
