Page 35 of His Own Heaven

The fact of the matter was, Toby had been in love before, and this, what he felt for Lucy, was not it. Nope. He’d been there, done that, and was not looking to do it again any time soon.

That’s why he’d shared her, to keep some distance between them, to keep them focused on the physical. Love was hard. Painful. It sucked a man’s soul dry. Nope. He liked Lucy—a lot—but he wasn’t looking for love. Hot sex with an even hotter woman? Sure. Butnotlove.

Charlie grinned and sipped his coffee. “Uh-huh.” Then his brother paused and his grin slipped.

Eyes narrowing, Toby said, “What?”

Clearing his throat, his twin shifted in his seat as though trying to get more comfortable, then said something Toby really didn’t want to hear. “I got a call from Isobel.”

Spine snapping to attention and his lip pulling up in a sneer, Toby growled, “What the fuck does she want?”

“The same thing she always wants,” Charlie said. When Toby remained silent, brooding, his brother continued. “Maybe we should hear her out? She’s never been this insistent before.”

Toby was about to argue when he heard footsteps—soft, shoeless footsteps—and he rose from his seat at the table. Glancing back at his brother, he murmured softly, “I don’t want to hear another word about her.”

Then he gave his full attention to the woman standing in the doorway of the conservatory.

“Good morning, Sir.”

Gloriously naked, and with his come still drying on her tits and her bottom lip pinned between her teeth, Lucy was a vision. And the breath Toby had been holding since he’d heard her footsteps escaped his lungs in an audible rush of air.

Holding out his arms, he smiled at her, indulgent pride swelling his chest. His cock thickened against his thigh, and he thanked God he’d worn his loose-fitting jeans. “Come here, baby.”

She was staying. Lucy had chosen to stay with him, and for some stupid reason, when she went to him and let him wrap her up in his arms, he rubbed his cheek against her hair and pulled the faded scent of gardenias into his lungs with every breath. He felt like he’d won the lottery. Then his brother’s words echoed through his head.

Was he “falling in love”?

Christ, no. That was the last thing he needed.

Letting her go, he held her at arm’s length, put some distance between them.

Charlie grinned, smug. “Good morning, beautiful.”

And Lucy turned her head to greet his brother. “Good morning, Charlie.”

Toby liked that she’d used his brother’s name and hadn’t called him Sir.

He would be the only man she gave that title to from now on.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, leading her around the table to the large green cushion on the floor. The one sitting right by his feet.

“I’m famished,” she said, licking her lips as she took in the spread on the table. She reached out one slender hand to snag a strip of bacon, but Toby slapped it away. She yelped, then narrowed her eyes at him and stuck out her tongue.

“Careful, beautiful.” Charlie chuckled, snagging the bacon for himself. “You don’t want to poke the bear before he’s had his coffee.”

She breathed deeply and smiled. “Mmmm, coffee.”

“Sit,” Toby ordered, holding her hand as she lowered herself onto the cushion and tucked her feet under her arse. “Good girl,” he said, taking his seat. He was rewarded with a lopsided smile.

Fuck. That smile made his cock hard.

Charlie was right about one thing: Tobyreallyliked this woman. Hell, he’d already told her as much himself. And it wasn’t her willingness to please him, or that she came apart so beautifully in his arms—he could get that action anywhere, if he bothered to look. It was in the pure joy that lit up her lovely eyes when he praised her, the way she held herself, as though she were unsure if she should feel proud or shy or honoured that he’d even acknowledged her presence, let alone praised her for it.

He’d witnessed uncertainty like that before, like she didn’t know if she could take him at his word, if she could trust him, and behaviour like that never came from a good place.

Someone had hurt her. She was vulnerable. And that called to the primal part of him, that animal part of man that needed to protect and defend and comfort his woman. Even if it was only for a weekend.

“How do you like your coffee?”

---