She missed him when he was at work. Missed his scent, his warmth and just having someone else to share little things with. Like when Cuddles jumped up on the couch for the first time—confused at how she’d gotten up there—or when she finally mastered the recipe for her favorite pie that her friend Melody used to make for her.
She practically mauled him when he got home from work, desperate for contact and attention. And he always allowed it, but never encouraged anything further between them. Savannah knew it was time for her to find a job — to have something to devote her time and attention to that would be worthwhile, rather than mothering Cole to death. Though he never complained.
But even as she planned the future, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from wandering to Cole. The way his dark intense eyes felt on her skin, his casual brushes of contact…she doubted he had any idea how insane they made her. The way he smiled when he took the first bite of a meal she’d cooked, the way he looked with his shirt sleeves rolled up when he got home from work. She found just about everything he did sexy. And don’t get her started on his scent when he arrived home from the gym, skin glistening, and gym shorts hanging loose on his hips. It took every ounce of strength she possessed not to jump him.
She’d never had feelings like this before—not about anyone—and had finally mustered up to the courage to talk to her therapist about it last week. He’d assured her that her feelings for the opposite sex were entirely normal and to be expected, living in close quarters with someone she was attracted to. But he’d cautioned her about getting involved with Cole, saying that if he didn’t return her feelings, Savannah would get hurt.
Savannah had laid herself bare for Cole and little good it had done. Sure he had been tempted enough to kiss her in all the right spots until she dissolved into pleasure, but then he’d pulled her panties into place and left like nothing had happened between them. It seemed like nothing she did made him see her like a woman. He still saw that scared, life-weary girl he’d rescued. When he’d finally kissed her—a full, sensuous open-mouthed kiss—she could tell it affected him, yet he wouldn’t let himself go there with her. She’d briefly wondered if perhaps he was g*y, but she knew he took simple pleasures from their contact, even if that was all it was — the warmth of another body. So she’d gone on the date with Levi, and then this morning she’d talked to Cole about getting a driver’s license and her own job. It was time to think about her future, as scary as that might be. And not just because it meant relying only on herself, but because the thought of being away from Cole felt like a loss she couldn’t handle. She’d been falling for him since that first moment she’d seen him—weapon drawn, and his dark, intelligent eyes swept the room where she hid.
When Cole left for work that morning, she cleaned the kitchen, polished the black granite countertops, and then positioned herself at the dining room table with his laptop. She began looking for jobs and researching the cost of apartments. It was time to make a plan for herself. She couldn’t rely on Cole’s generosity forever.
Chapter 19
Cole thought yoga was supposed to relax you, which was why he couldn’t understand why Savannah had come home madder than a hornet’s nest.
She tossed her yoga mat in the front closet, and then retreated to the kitchen. Cole had figured she would have joined him in the living room to tell him all about it, talking in her excited way whenever she had a new experience. He glanced at his watch. Dinnertime…maybe she was anxious to begin cooking. But it didn’t sound like she was cooking so much as punishing the dishes.
“Savannah?” Cole rounded the corner to the kitchen, where the sound of clattering pots and pans was starting to alarm him.
“What?” she turned briskly, holding a large chef’s knife in her hand.
“Whoa.” He held up his hands. “I just wanted to see how yoga went.”
She narrowed her eyes, refusing to lower the knife. “Fine,” she bit out in a clipped tone.
He took a step back. “Did, ah, something happen?” His brows knitted together in concern.
“Nope.” She slashed through a ripe tomato with such force, a spray of seeds and juice misted the countertop.
“You sure?” He dared a step closer. “Did you have…fun?”
She was still dressed for a work out, a pair of skin tight black pants hugging her ass in the most distracting way. God bless whoever invented yoga pants. Her little white tank was riding up, exposing a strip of her narrow waist and lower back. Visions of caressing that ass in his palms, along with memories of the way her skin tasted, danced through his subconscious.
Dear God he wanted her.
Bad.
He’d been trying to avoid being alone with her ever since he’d surrendered and brought her pleasure. As much as he wanted a repeat, he hadn’t dared give in. All this past week, he worked late, hit the gym after work, went to Liam’s pub for a drink, then came home and slipped into bed while she was sleeping. Of course, that hadn’t stopped her from curling her body around his, releasing a happy little sigh against his chest, or pulling his arm around her so they could spoon. She certainly wasn’t shy about taking what she needed in terms of physical affection, but neither had actually communicated about their relationship, or whatever this thing was between them.
She dropped the knife, letting it clatter against the cutting board, her task momentarily forgotten. “Fun? Hmm, let’s see. Was it fun to see the girl you brought home twisting her body into impossible poses for ninety minutes? No. I don’t suppose it was.”