Page 52 of Blood Sweeter than Honey

Kneeling in front of her, I can’t hold myself back from reaching out to touch her, to caress her jaw with my thumb. The way she instinctively leans into me makes my chest tighten with emotion.

“You know that you don’t have to lift a finger, right? I’m more than happy to have you here regardless of whether or not you help with chores.”

Winnow’s throat works as her eyes study mine, searching for any evidence that my words aren’t one hundred percent the truth.

Finding none, she gradually nods.

A beat passes between us, and it takes everything within me not to lean in and kiss her because what kind of message would that be sending after I just told her she doesn’t owe me anything by staying here, only to make a move on her? I’d never forgive myself if I gave her the impression she needs to fuck me to earn her place here.

Even if I had told Winnow the whole truth about my past—a guilt that plagues me daily–I wouldn’t have allowed myself to do more than kiss her hair or forehead when we read to each other in bed. And it’s why I’m still sleeping in the living room despite her many protests.

“How was work?”

Her question breaks the tension, and I stand to extend my hands to help her off the floor. Not that she needs it, but I can’t help but wanna have my hands on her at all times.

“Good. The cattle are happy and healthy. Got an apple orchard that’s starting to blossom. It’ll be the first year, I think, that they’ll produce edible fruit… Hope you like apple pie.”

Winnow’s grin widens. “I love apple pie. It’s one of my favorites. That and lemon meringue.”

Duly noted.

My eyes pass over the kitchen and living room to take in the fruit of her labor. The house is spotless, and the coffee table, kitchen window sill, and kitchen counter each have a mason jar filled with freshly picked wildflowers and other leafy branches that I would never have thought belonged in a bouquet but somehow work.

She’s added a feminine touch to my home that I hadn’t even realized was missing, but is now painfully obvious.

When my eyes return to Winnow’s, there’s an anxious look on her face and heat crawling up her cheeks. “I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of?—

“No… not at all. I love it. I’m honestly touched you went to so much trouble…”

Her smile returns as her energy shifts, and her body language opens up in a way that takes me a moment to recognize.

She’s preening. She likes my praise.

At the same time, the darker side of me internally licks his chops as my dick thickens, and my heart thumps a goofy beat that can only be likened to lovesickness.

The hunger in my gaze is evident, only further encouraged by the deepening of her blush.

Never in my life have I desired a woman the way I do Winnow.

“It wasn’t any trouble at all, actually. If anything, I enjoyed it. I’m used to working a lot and always being busy, so this was a nice break to be able to do something that’s…not work.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “I’m pretty sure most everyone considers cleaning to be work.”

She shrugs, grinning at the evidence of her touch in my home.

“I found it therapeutic, actually.”

“In what way?”

She chews her cheek as though hesitating to say. “Well, just… I guess there’s an aspect of instant gratification because you see the results of it right away, which is kind of a rare thing, but most of all, the idea that maybe, after busting your butt all day, it would make you happy to come back to the comfort of a clean home.”

Goddamn, if this woman didn’t just pluck at my dusty little heartstrings right in fucking tune.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a woman’s life extending far beyond homemaking. But anything Winnow does for me, so long as it makes her happy, will turn me into putty at her feet.

That woman could spit in a cup and tell me to drink it, and I’d greedily lick it clean just because she did it for me.

Winnow’s eyes flee mine as her teeth sink into her bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the borrowed shirt she’s wearing.

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