Page 11 of The Taste of Charity
“Fine. But it’s not necessary.”
“It is so necessary.” We reach the door to her house and I grimace when I stare up at the building again. “Lord, this house is too much. I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable dropping you off here by yourself. It feels like you could get lost in that mausoleum.”
I see the quick flash of pain in her warm brown eyes and curse myself under my breath. I reach out and tug her into my arms, not surprised when she’s stiff and unbending. “I didn’t mean that, baby. I shouldn’t burden you with my own inadequacies. This house just makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you. It’s like spurs into a bull sometimes. But I still shouldn’t have hurt you saying something stupid like that.”
She nods and I feel a smile break out when she sniffs and then mumbles into my chest. “It’s alright. I don’t really like it either. It’s way too big for me and has too many damn memories.”
“Maybe you should think about getting something new. Something just for you.”
She pulls back and nods although she won’t meet my eyes. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Now I’ll be back at 7. Be ready on time because I’m already starving, Uptown. I can’t wait to show you this place.”
“Terrific. I’m looking forward to it.” She walks through the door and then turns to smile slightly at me, melting what little is left of my resistance. Dammit! I love this freaking woman so much. It’s killing me trying to take it slow and easy when I just want to be a caveman and throw her over my shoulder, dragging her off to bed.
I sigh and shift my hips, trying to get my dick out of my zipper. It feels like it’s imprinted on the sensitive skin like a fucking tattoo at this point.
I close my eyes and then walk away, grunting. Charity is my woman. I can handle a little pain to get what I want. What I need so damn much that I dream about it every damn night now.
Her. Just her.
CHAPTER7
Charity
The grandfather clock in the living room chimes loudly and I jump in the loveseat. Seconds later, I jump again when the door knocker booms into the quiet air.
“Shit! I’m coming!” I call, running to get the door and flinging it wide, a breathless smile on my face.
But my mouth drops open as I stare beyond his shoulder. The horse tosses his pure white mane and flicks his tail, stamping his hooves.
“Is that a horse and carriage?” I ask, struck stupid by the sight.
He laughs, throwing his head back. “Yep.”
“Where the heck did you get a horse-drawn carriage?”
“Necessity is the mother of invention sometimes, princess. I wanted to do something special for you and since you won’t get in a car for obvious reasons, I assumed horse-drawn carriage would be alright.”
“It’s more than alright.” I slip down the steps, tugging at my sweater, wishing I had carrots hidden somewhere.
“Here. Give him this.” Like he can read my mind, Jameson pulls a carrot from his pocket and hands it to me.
Flushing and biting my lip, I hold my arm out, fingers tingling with excitement. The beautiful animal holds his neck out and then delicately nibbles at the crunchy vegetable until he drags it out of my fingers and then lifts his head, chewing happily.
I touch his muscular neck, thrilled when his skin ripples and he rumbles out a grumbling sound. “He’s so soft,” I say, petting his neck over and over, feeling the muscles shifting under my hands. His head nods like he’s agreeing and I laugh happily.
“Obviously, he agrees with you.”
“Well, he’s obviously smart as well as beautiful.” Jameson reaches out and takes my hand, leading me to the carriage. He opens the door and helps me in, tucking a carriage rug around my hips. The chilly autumn air steals my breath for a second. At least that’s what I’m going to tell myself. The truth is too damn scary. And I’m just not sure that I’m ready to admit it to myself, let alone him.
Then he climbs up and sits close to me, tucking me gently into his side. I lean back and study his handsome face. His sapphire eyes are gentle and soft. Sharp contrast to the harsh, defined lines of his face.
“Well, what do you think? Excited?”
“Absolutely. I haven’t been out in forever. Not since….” My voice trails off and I curse myself for even thinking it. Jameson’s done something nice, planned something special. And yet I can’t stop myself from thinking about my loss. It’s a nagging little itch that I can’t seem to push back.
The horse starts to clop along smartly and I curl closer into Jameson’s side.
