Page 55 of Gorgeous

Breck doesn’t look offended that I insulted her hero. Instead, she gives me a sad smile. “I like to believe that even though I may have been betrayed or made mistakes, I’m still capable of forgiving myself and others. Thor is my favorite because although he is the God of Thunder, he’s just as human as the rest of us. He hurts and feels but he still picks himself up and tries again. He never backs down even when he is scared.”

The food she made earlier is rolling around in my gut, churning at the hidden meaning of her words. I’m not Thor. I’m not selfless. And unlike Thor, Iamscared to open the door and forgive. I don’t deserve to forgive myself. I don’t deserve to start over and be happy. I deserve to feel dead inside.

I don’t deserve a second chance.

“And he has a nice ass.”

I choke when she blurts out that last statement and pulls her hand from mine, patting me on the back. “Don’t take it personally, Major. Not everyone can have an ass and a big hammer like Thor.”

I flash her an annoyed glare and roll over, my erection long gone after that conversation. “Thor is a made-up character,” I say, yawning at the end. “His ass and his hammer have been immortalized through legends over the years. If he were human, he’d be an asshole like the rest of us mortals.”

Pain throbs behind my eyes, the migraine I’m nursing coming back to haunt me.

“Is your head hurting again?”

A terse chin jerk is all I can manage when another sharp stab of pain zings through the top of my head. Please don’t let me get nauseated again. I’m groaning into the fabric of the blanket, sucking in sharp breaths when I feel her hands tug at my arm. Cracking one eye open, I see the concern in Breck’s frown.

“Let me help?”

She’s asking me this time. Not demanding. Not commanding. The decision is mine. Are we friends or not? What’s funny is that I don’t even have to think about it for very long. Being with Breck feels so natural. So simple. And I crave her skin on mine like I had a mere few hours ago.

My voice sounds gritty when I tilt my chin in a pathetic nod and give in. “Okay.”

Breck’s eyes widen before a ghost of a smile tugs at her lips. She stretches her tanned legs out in front, her arm supporting her from behind. “Come here.” She pats her thigh, insinuating I should lay my head down on her. Let me be crystal clear when I say that if I follow through with this bad decision, my head will be inches from her pussy. I’ll be able to smell it. Feel the heat from it.

My dick is hard again.

The pain is what pulls me from my side of the blanket, crawling on my hands and knees to her. It’s not the need for her that coaxes my head down into her lap, my chest resting on the soft fabric of the blanket. And it certainly isn’t the feel of her hands in my hair as she makes soothing sweeps that have me groaning and closing my eyes.

Breck stays quiet, stroking through my hair, slowly working her way to my back. The breeze cools the heat coursing through me, and I feel sweat bead along my neck. Breck is so in tune with my needs because she strokes up my back, pulling my shirt with it. I shiver when her fingertips graze the skin there.

The scars there.

It doesn’t bother me like I thought it would. She’s seen them before, yes. But she isn’t repulsed by them. More like she’s in awe, immortalizing them like badges of honor.

Or maybe she’s just good at disguising her facial expressions.

The jury is still out, but either way, I let her look. I let her touch. I let herseeme. The real me. No asshole. No Major Jameson. Just … Cade.

I turn and meet her eyes. She’s watching me. Waiting for my reaction to her touch. For pushing at my boundaries. The fight wanes and I don’t have the heart to stop her. I don’t want to stop her.

So I give her a sad smile.

She doesn’t smile back or say anything. Instead, she drags her fingers from my forehead, over my eyes. They drift closed out of instinct, but I keep them closed, looping my hand under her thigh, holding her close. We stay under the sun, listening to the birds chirp and the fish surface from the pond for what seems like hours, the pain in my head waning with each caress of her fingers as she traces random shapes and letters along my back. And I swear she spells outmine.

“Major Jameson.” Breck pops her head in my office a week later, being a total tease by calling me Major Jameson. The sound of her addressing me as major does things to my dick. Things my dick should not be doing right now. Like getting hard under my desk.

“There’s a man out here. He says he has an appointment with you.” She relays the message, the scent of roses wafting in from the lotion I know she uses every single day.

“He says his name is Kane. That’s a cool name …” She trails off, staring at one of the books on my bookcase. I track her eyes and see she’s staring at my newly acquired comic book of Thor. I don’t know what possessed me to buy it. I don’t read comic books, and frankly, I don’t know if I agree that Thor is the best superhero like she does, but I was curious and had already paid for it by the time I stopped and processed what I was doing.

Breck smiles, turning back.“He’s kind of hot, too.”

You have got to be kidding me. Why must all the women in this house be so damn aggravating?

“The potential recruit?” I confirm that the hot man we are talking about is the one out in the foyer.

She nods, flashing me a secret smirk before slipping her finger between her teeth.

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