Page 8 of Trussed In Hope
“I’m glad that it smelled good.” I sat across from her. “If you need water, I’ll get it.”
“No, this coffee will do just fine to get my brain moving.” She closed her eyes as she took her first sip. “God, that’s good.”
“Thank you. Eat up, though. I don’t want your food to be cold when you try it.”
Emberlynn nodded and filled her plate. Unexpectedly, she layered her eggs and bacon between her pancakes, put whipped cream on top, and then smothered it in syrup. I had to admit it looked damn good, just like her.
“How tall are you?” I asked her.
“Six feet even,” she said after swallowing. “What made you ask?”
“You’re tall. Probably the tallest woman I’ve ever dated,” I admitted. “That’s not a bad thing. Just a fact.”
“We’re not dating, though,” she corrected.
“I never agreed to that.” I slipped my forkful of pancakes through the thick syrup before eating them.
“You said deal!” She all but pouted.
“To you helping me find a therapist. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?” I peered at her until she lifted those pretty browns at me. “Too long to let you go so easily.”
“Hardison, listen, there’s something?—”
“I don’t want to listen to another thing about me dealing with scars. I know I have some healing to do. Doesn’t mean that I don’t want company on this journey.”
“One thing at a time, please.” Emberlynn sighed softly, and somehow, I had a feeling there was more going on here.
“Yes, we’ll focus on breakfast and go from there.” Except… “One question.”
“Anything.” She placed her hands on her lap and gave me her undivided attention.
“What do you want for Christmas?” I watched as her shoulders slumped.
“Nothing,” she mumbled.
“Well, you’ll have two weeks to think about it. But, Emberlynn…”
She raised her eyebrow slightly.
“You’ll give me an answer much before then.”
Emberlynn studied my face as if she were trying to figure out something about me. “What’s your sign?” she asked.
“Why?” I frowned at her, wondering what it had to do with anything that I’d just said.
“I want to know.” Curious eyes wouldn’t let go of her question.
“Capricorn.” I folded my arms and leaned back in my seat. “What’s that mean to you, Virgo?”
She smiled coyly, as if she knew a secret that I didn’t. “What time did you want to do your stretching session?”
“Around noon, then we can get started with our day.” I winked at her, and her cheeks blushed, reddening beneath her smooth-looking skin. “Now, what does my sign have to do with anything?”
Wiping her mouth, she stood up with her coffee. I saw the mischief in her eyes as she slowly backed away.
“It means trouble.” She spun around and hurried to her room and closed the door. I could almost see the dust from how quickly she hightailed it out of there.
Trouble, eh?Well, if that’s how she wanted to play it.I’ll show her the rules.
