Page 6 of Harvest of Love
When I finally open the door, he’s right there, smiling warmly. The smile falters the moment our eyes meet, and I panic.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, erasing the distance between us in three strides.
“Yes, of course,” I say too brightly, forcing a sugary smile. “I just didn’t expect you home so early. I thought you were working late.”
I catch the moment he realizes he surprised me—his brows shoot up to his forehead.
“Oh, my goodness. You’re right. I’m not sure where my head is today,” he chuckles.
The sound shouldn’t make me feel hot and bothered all over again, but here I am, fighting the urge to rub my thighs together just to take the edge off the ache in my core.
“Are you feeling alright? You seem flustered.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing.If only he knew how flustered I really am.
“Oh yes, I’m fine. I was just about to change your linens, but I needed to use the bathroom first. I hope that’s okay,” I say lightly.
His cheeks darken.Is he blushing?
“Yes, of course. I’ve told you many times—this is your house too. You don’t need to apologize.”
He steps closer, and I swear I must still be riding the aftershocks of my orgasm, because I rise onto my toes and lean toward him.
To my surprise, he doesn’t back away.
Instead, his hands settle at my waist, steadying me.
My heart beats with anticipation.Is this really happening? Am I finally going to kiss Manny?
But his next words douse the fantasy.
“I really appreciate you helping me around the house when Tommy’s not here, but I can’t help but feel embarrassed about it.”
I stumble back, heat flooding my cheeks.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.” I duck my head so he won’t see how much it stings.
Of course he wasn’t going to kiss me. He doesn’t see me that way. I’m just the help. Just Tommy’s nanny.
“I’ll be on my way, then. I’ll see you next Monday.”
I move to pass Manny and get to the door as fast as I can, but his arm blocks me.
“Wait, please.” His breath rushes out. “I’m sorry—that came out wrong.” He turns fully toward me, his frame crowding the small space between us.
“What I meant is I'm a grown-ass man, and I feel bad having you doing something as simple as changing my sheets.” He holds my gaze. “There’s nothing you can do to make me upset. I just feel bad having you do those things for me.”
He leans down, his breath ghosting across my lips. I close my eyes as his face moves closer—then his phone rings.
“Coño,” he curses under his breath before answering. He turns away and speaks rapidly in Spanish.
When he hangs up, his shoulders slump. I know, in that instant, that the kiss I’d imagined isn’t going to happen.
“I really don’t want to go back to the hospital and leave you after—” he starts, then trails off. I want to ask him to finish, but instead he says, “—but I have to go.”
He scratches his head and heads towards the door. “I actually came home to pick up something I thought would help me with a patient who only speaks Spanish, but then I heard noises coming out of my room and…” His voice fades, distant, like he’s far away.
Did he hear me fingering myself in his bed? I want to die and bury myself so deep that no one would everfind me again.
