Page 30 of Back in the Saddle

Eric grabbed the bowls.

I turned to the Nespresso and switched out mugs and pods.

I had no idea what was going on with this guy.

And I wasn’t going to think about it.

I wasn’t because I knew two things for certain in this world.

If you wanted something, you worked for it.

And…

No matter how hard you worked for it, what would be was going to be, and whatever that was, you had no choice but to deal.

What was going on with Eric was going on.

And whatever it was, I would deal.

* * *

Somethinglovely slid across my cheek.

I opened my eyes and Eric Turner’s beautiful face was close to mine.

“Hey,” his beautiful voice whispered. “Sorry to wake you, but I’m leaving.”

Oh shit.

It was the end of No-Fucks-to-Giving.

“You need to lock up after me,” he said.

He was right. I did.

I struggled with my lethargy and the blanket on top of me to get up.

I didn’t struggle long. He demonstrated his broad shoulders weren’t simply aesthetically pleasing, because he used them, and his arms, to scoop me off the couch and set me on my feet.

Likeliterallyscoop me up and set me down.

Just like that.

He didn’t even grunt.

I started teetering, and it wasn’t because I’d just been awakened. Nor was it because I’d had an emotional juggernaut of a day: good, mixed with bad, mixed with great, mixed with uncertain, mixed with just plain weird.

Eric steadied me, then he took my hand and led me to the door.

He’d wisely locked it beforeTitanic.

I fell asleep somewhere in the middle ofSnakes on a Plane(yep, Eric had exceptional taste in movies, along with everything else that was exceptional about Eric, the newly learned items on this list including his cooking, his listening abilities, his sharing abilities and the dual purpose of his shoulders).

He stood in my open door, holding my hand.

I stood in my open door, having my hand held, liking my hand held and staring up at him.

“I know I shouldn’t give a fuck, but it’s been a great day,” he stated.

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