Page 74 of Nine Week Nanny
He stretches his long legs out in front of him. "Not at all. Nothing against it. I'm just particular about what I put in my body."
"Ah. You're one of those annoyingly healthy people." I grin over the rim of my glass.
"Something like that." His smile softens his face. "I usually hit the gym around this time. Five nights a week, minimum, in Denver. I haven't been able to get in the groove since moving here."
"It's hard moving and trying to keep your same routine."
His eyes find mine in the dim patio lights. "Yeah. Been a little busy lately."
The weight of the unspoken hangs between us. Instead of the gym, he's been here, with Lennon. With me.
"I like this better," he admits. "Coming home, having dinner. Hearing about the sharks and hermit crabs. I never knew I would be so drawn to this domestic stuff."
My chest tightens. "You're getting good at the bedtime routine."
"I have a good mentor."
I take a deep breath, feeling things continuing to shift between us. It’s like every night, one more barrier between us eases.
“He talked about his mom today. While we were playing. That's why he was in my lap when you came in."
"I noticed something was going on, but I also had enough sense not to interrupt.” Pope leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Thank you for being there for him. For knowing how to comfort him."
"I didn't do anything special. I just let him express himself."
"Yes, you did." His voice is low, certain. "You showed up. You held space for him. I'd say that was damn special."
Heat blooms in my cheeks that has nothing to do with the wine. The vulnerability in his expression catches me off guard.
My phone buzzes on the table between us. Maris's name lights up the screen.
How's it going? Any updates on the Pope situation?
I can practically hear her cautionary tone from our last conversation.This is dangerous territory. Don't cross that line.
Pope's eyes flick to the phone, then back to me, patient, waiting.
I turn my phone face down on the table. I don't think she'd be happy to know the update I would be sharing. I've already crossed lines I can't uncross, boundaries I was warned not to breach.
And I don't want to go back.
"Everything okay?" Pope asks.
"Everything's perfect." I set my empty glass down and meet his gaze directly. "Right here. Right now."
Pope reaches for my hand across the small space between our chairs, his fingers intertwining with mine. The heat of his palm against my skin sends electricity up my arm.
"I've been thinking about you all day," he confesses, his thumb tracing circles on my wrist. "Every meeting, every call, you were there in the front of my mind. You make it hard to concentrate."
My pulse quickens. "Same here. It's getting harder to focus when you're in the room."
His thumb continues tracing lazy circles on my wrist, sending shockwaves through my entire body. I can't tear my eyes away from his.
"Feel like taking a dip?" Pope nods toward the glowing turquoise pool beyond the patio.
I laugh nervously, wrapping my free arm around myself. "I'm already chilly out here."
"I turned the heat up earlier to ninety-eight. It's probably like a hot tub by now." His eyes darken with suggestion. "Much warmer than the air."
