Page 40 of Secret Admirer

Wow! He must really hate my cooking.

“Or,” he draws out the word looking unsure, “I can cook sometimes. I’m not a gourmet cook, but you won’t starve.”

Fisting his shirt, I pull him down until I can feel his breath skate across my face. “I may have to tie you up and only let you out of bed to cook for me.”

His cheeks pink up and he looks to the side. “I’m sure we can work something out without me being tied up. I’m a very willing participant here.”

“Good, now let’s get ready because I’m hungry. We can get some breakfast while we’re out getting flowers. Are you going to stay here again tonight?”

“If you want.” He smiles his dazzling smile and a tingle flutters through my body. Bodhi’s finally starting to relax around me.

What I want is for him to never leave, but I know that’s not possible. He has a job and one that’s not only important to him but also the kids at the shelter.

“Good, maybe you can show off your cooking skills tonight.”

* * *

Bodhi and I sit outside, snuggled up on one of the loungers that are big enough to be classified as a bed, watching the sunset. His fingers caress up and down my arm, occasionally tickling me and giving me a shiver. Instead of eating inside, we sat out here enjoying all the flowers we planted earlier in the day and the nice weather. The thought of someone or something coming onto my property almost every night is long forgotten after last night. It was perfect. Bodhi is perfect and he continues to be so. And despite my best efforts to tell him he didn’t need to, he even cleaned the pool for me.

Bodhi made his spaghetti, and it was more than edible and better than anything I would have made for us. I think he’s been lying because it was some of the best spaghetti I’ve ever had.

I don’t want the weekend to end and for us to go back to our jobs in the morning. I’m afraid once we leave and go back to real life, Bodhi will revert to his shy, unsure self.

I break the silence, turning so I can look up at his chiseled face. “I have a ten o’clock appointment tomorrow morning.”

“What time are the security people going to be here?” His hand stops moving and rests on my shoulder, keeping me grounded in a way I’ve never felt.

“I think nine. I’m not sure I love the thought of them in the house without me here, but I want those cameras installed as soon as possible. Do you think…do you have a driver's license?”

“I don’t have one for California, but I do have a valid New York license. Why?” He scrunches his brow; something he’s never done in my presence and I want to place kisses all over his face with how handsomely adorable he is.

Bodhi had been lucky to have that long hair and beard because otherwise, he would have been beating the Californian women off with a stick. He’d probably be in LA living in a penthouse as one of the top male models. How had no one in New York taken him under their wing? Or a Sugar Mama scooped him up and used him as her sex slave?

“Coco?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

I realize I’ve been lost in my head fantasizing about him for far too long. “I…I was thinking maybe you could drive me to work and then come back here until you have to be at the shelter. That way you could supervise their work.” And them. I wouldn’t put it past them to go through my underwear drawer and sniff my panties.

“What about you? How will you get home?”

I hadn’t thought of that.

“Well, either you could pick me up or Trixie can bring me home. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” But I want it to be you, Bodhi.

“Your car is…I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable driving your car. I don’t have insurance. I…”

I hadn’t thought he might be uncomfortable driving it.

“I have insurance, so you don’t need to worry about that and who cares if you put a dent or scratch in it. Have you seen the driver’s side of my car?” Bodhi shakes his head, his lips pulled down. “Someone keyed it.Bad. I haven’t had a chance to do anything with it yet. I kind of want to get a new car but haven’t put much thought into what I want.” God that makes me sound like a spoiled brat.

“I don’t know.” Abruptly he turns his head to look out toward the city. Not because he doesn’t want to talk, but as if he heard something.

I wonder if Bodhi is one of those men who can’t handle a woman making or having more money than they do. I don’t make millions doing hair, but I don’t need to use the money my parents left me either. I also don’t want this to become a point of contention between us. I don’t care that Bodhi doesn’t have money, and I’d be happy in my old apartment if it weren’t for the neighbors. I love this house and I’m grateful for everything my parents gave me, but I’d rather have them than this house.

“Do you have a problem with me having money?”

Bodhi’s head whips around, his mouth and eyes wide. “What?” His one word comes out in a harsh whisper as he pulls back from me.

“I don’t think you do, but—”

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