Page 65 of Most Likely to Fear Love

“Oh.”

He paused for a moment, the loofah stilling against my skin. “I could tell you were in your own head too much. You were overthinking it, holding back. So I figured it might be easier if I got you started while you were still asleep, before your mind could get in the way.”

I swallowed, my eyes still closed. His words made sense, but it was more than that. It was the tenderness, the patience he had shown me. It was like he knew me better than I knew myself, and that scared me as much as it comforted me.

“You okay with that?”

His hand moved to trace down my arm, the loofah brushing against my side.

“Obviously.”

“Glad to hear it. Now lemme have some of the water, why don’t you?”

I laughed, stepping to the side to allow him to move under the spray.

I watched as he tilted his head back, the water streaming down his face, his eyes closed in concentration. There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved. He was unhurried, confident, like he belonged here, with me. It was impossible not to stare. Even the act of rubbing the shampoo into his hair was hot. He looked like he was in a tv commercial.

He rinsed his hair and gave me a quick smile. “It’s all yours. I’m gonna get breakfast on.”

“Okay.”

Yeah, I perved while he grabbed afluffy towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist, water still dripping down his chest. He caught me looking, and a teasing smile played at his lips as he winked at me before turning and leaving the bathroom.

I huffed out a breath and turned the water temperature down a notch, needing something tocalm the heat spreading through me.

After a few minutes under the streaming water, where I somehow managed not to spiral into overthinking territory, I turned it off and stepped out of the shower.

I took my time drying off, running the towel over my skin until I was mostly dry, then wiped the steam from the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, cheeks flushed and hair damp. I looked like I’d just been well fucked, which made me flush some more.

It took me a few minutes to blow dry it and when I was done, I seriously considered putting a bit of make up on, then rolledmy eyes at my reflection. I would never wear make up at home on a Saturday.

When I walked into the bedroom, my stomach growled, reminding me how hungry I was, after being deliciously fucked awake. But my attention was quickly drawn to the bed.

It was neatly made now, which was no big deal. What was a big deal was the silky green negligee, laid out in the center like an offering.Similar to the one I’d worn last night, it was gathered at the bust and would likely skim the top of my thighs.

I picked it up, the smooth fabric slipping through my fingers as I imagined Harle buying it for me. The very idea of him shopping for this, with me in mind,made my pulse quicken. Heat bloomed in my chest as I slipped it on, the material cool and silky against my skin. I’d never had the courage to wear anything like this for Brian, not even on our wedding night. And look, I barely had the courage now, but when I went back into the bathroom to hang up my towel, I flicked a quick glance at myself in the mirror. Okay, yeah, that was pretty good. I could do this. Of course, I needed yet another deep breath, so I took it and headed out, ready to face him.

The aroma of coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air as soon as I entered the kitchen, making my stomach growl again. Harle stood at the stove, his back to me, wearing only a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

As I hesitated in the doorway, I imagined going right up to him and running my hand down his back. It made my palm itch.

He turned, spatula in hand and his gaze raked over me. It was so hot, I could almost feel it against my skin.

“Coffee’s ready if you want some.”

“Great, thanks.”

As I moved towards the coffee pot, I could feel his eyes on me, following my every move. The intensity of his stare made mypulse leap, and I had to concentrate to keep my hands steady as I poured myself a cup.

“How hungry are you?”

Starving, but not for breakfast.

“Pretty hungry.”

His eyes still roaming over me appreciatively, he smiled. “Good. It’ll be ready in a few.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

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