Page 71 of Almost Perfect
“Okay. Or?”
“Or, you come home with me.”
My stomach flipped and dropped, then did a double dismount from the balance beam it’d been walking all night.
That. I want to do that.
He was safe and sturdy and wonderful. I didn’t want to stay over here in the dark, no buzz of electronics or internet to keep me company. Granted, in theory I’d be sleeping the whole night, but still.
“I have a guest room, so no pressure there, of course.”
I swallowed, then cleared my throat. “I think I’d like to come with you, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. Let’s get some things packed for you, and we’ll head back home and get warmed up.”
Oh, this man. How could he know what his referring to us goinghomedid to me? It took my heart and shook it, rattled the parts, and thawed more of the iced-over muscle. It made mewant.
And I knew all too well how that road went downhill fast.
THIRTY
Wyatt
As a gentleman, and generally not a creep, I tried not to notice the clothes Calla packed or what things she gathered. We stayed close in her darkened little cottage, and though she hadn’t said it, I could tell she wanted it that way.
She’d asked me to come with her when she packed and then stayed close. When she moved to the bathroom to get toiletries, she had me hold her light. Was it the dark? Or something else? Obviously enough, she wasn’t scared of me, which was definitely a positive, but it disturbed me to see the edge in her body language as she moved through getting her things.
By the time we reached home, I’d faced the cruel possibility that maybe she didn’t feel nervous around me, but the prospect of staying with me did make her anxious. And why wouldn’t it? I’d said no expectations, but we’d only known each other a little over five weeks at this point.
“I’m sorry about this. Warrick needs to get that place set up with a generator.”
I shucked my boots and hung our jackets, then showed her to the guest room. The fear that she might not be comfortable clutched at me. I hated the thought.
We’d spent weeks sharing breakfast, and our date had certainly gone well. But I’d been a jerk on more than one occasion. Maybe I didn’t deserve her trust and comfort.
I set her bag on a small desk in the corner and waved a hand into the room. “Not glamorous, but clean and warm, I promise.”
She padded inside from where she’d been standing at the threshold and walked right up to me, so close our chests bumped. Eyes staring into mine, she wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you for inviting me and helping me.”
I squeezed her close, reassured, and yet still confused. “I swear to you I have no nefarious plot. This is your space. You’ll have your own bathroom, and—”
Her hand pressing into my chest as she inched away stopped me. She shook her head and then explained.
“I don’t like the dark. It’s not a huge thing, but I’ve had some break-ins and other stuff like that in LA, and I got spooked over at my place. But I know you didn’t lure me here with ‘nefarious’ plans or anything.”
We shared a smile like that thought was completely ridiculous. And it was.
Except for the whole thing about her spending the night here and that becoming a more and more vivid fantasy playing out in reality. Not that I’d act on my baser impulses, but I couldn’t pretend I wished Warrick had done his due diligence and gotten a generator before Calla moved in. Plus, ultimately what I wanted most was for her to be here of her own volition. For her to want me like I wanted her. No coercion or power crisis needed.
“Glad to know you trust me at least that much.”
Her brow furrowed just a touch. “I think I trust you more than most people.”
My smile was genuine, but it covered my heartbeat jolting to a canter and the very real sensation that the ground was crumbling at my feet. Soon enough, I’d be falling, and her trust in me chipped away more steadily than almost anything yet.
“I’m glad,” was all I managed.
“Well…”
