Page 7 of Tinder Embrace
I was already convinced Sophie could rule the world if her ambitions leaned that direction. The way she filled any room with enthusiasm and hope, you couldn't help but go along with whatever she wanted.Ask me how I know.
I'd built my reputation as a loner the old-fashioned way – because it was fucking true. People sucked. I had an easier time controlling my bark when there was no one around to bite.
I had my corner of paradise, and I stayed in my lane. That was how I rolled, holding onto my peace. Until Sophie crash-landed in my life. I snorted at my own joke, tracing the delicate bone of her right ankle, each graceful tendon tempting me to explore further.
I hadn't lasted fifteen fucking minutes with her in my space before I'd been drawn closer. Making her a sandwich. Touching her. Pretending to care about a baking show.
Any more togetherness, and I’d be forced to surrender my loner card.
Living with her, even for a few short days, was gonna be more punishment than I could endure. Not because I didn't want her here, but because spending more time was only going to tempt me to want more.
She hummed, the sound almost a purr, and I gritted my teeth. Her deep sound of contentment arrowed straight to my groin.
I could escape to my office. There was always paperwork to do, but with my dominant hand out of commission, admin work was even less appealing than usual. I held back my snort.Right. It wasn't leaving Sophie that made paperwork unappealing, it was my injury.
Maybe it was the adrenaline deficit after her crash, maybe it was the hypnotic quality of my fingers sliding along her skin, but Sophie's eyes drifted closed, her breath coming in soft puffs. Part of me couldn't believe she'd fallen asleep.
Sophie radiated energy. She was one of the shiny people: bubbly, smiley, and always clad in bright colors like a cartoon princess come to life.
Her dark brown hair was mussed for once but still framed her round face, enhancing the impression of sweet innocence. The shoulder-length mass of waves couldn’t disguise the fatigue that shadowed her features. She’d hidden it well, but the morning’s adventure must have taken its toll on her.
Something inside me squirmed at the trust she placed in me, falling asleep while I cradled her feet in my lap.
I let my head fall back against the couch, eyes closed. Apparently, the magic of touching Sophie worked both ways. Now that she was out of danger, I could breathe again. Hearing the fear in her voice as she sank lower in the sky, I'd had to focus on helping her, ignoring my own worries. Now that the crisis had passed, they all came rushing back.
She was a grown adult, but part of me was convinced that Sophie Dunham needed a keeper. Too trusting, too eager, she placed her life on the line every time she flew, and I shuddered thinking of what might have happened if she’d landed in a less forgiving spot. We could have lost her. Images of her body, broken and lifeless, made nausea climb in my throat.
Sophie may have rubbed me the wrong way, pulling me from my quiet corners and into her orbit, but the thought ofnothaving her around was unthinkable. Unbearable.
And that was what I needed to remember for the next few days. Having her with me may be torture, but the alternative was much worse.My hand clenched around her ankle, and I peeled my fingers away, noting with relief that my burst of possessiveness hadn’t awakened her.
If anything, a tiny smile curved the corners of her pink lips.
Shaking my head, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her soft mouth. Her trusting slumber was yet another reason Sophie needed a keeper.
It just couldn’t be me.
I yawned, giving in to the drugging weight of sleep. There'd be time to worry about having Sophie in my way and what to do about her later.
***
"Davis.Davis."
The insistent whisper, at once familiar and strange, woke me. I blinked, taking inventory. I'd slid down the couch on my uninjured side, wrapping myself around Sophie's softness as we napped. Guilt washed through me, and I worried I'd overstepped, until I realized how thoroughly we were entwined. Sophie had thrown one soft thigh over my hip and snuggled into my arms, using my biceps as a pillow. In return, my palm grasped her flank possessively, keeping her from rolling off the couch, aware, even in my sleep, that she was too precious to lose.
"I need to use the bathroom," she continued, sounding apologetic.
"Sorry," I grunted, releasing her.
Slowly, she slithered from the couch, wincing when her left ankle made contact with the wood floor.
"Do you need help?" I asked.
Sophie's eyes rounded. "In the bathroom? I think not."
"No." I scowled. "Getting to the bathroom."
She bit her lip, pushing to her feet with another wince. She took one tentative step before shaking her head. "Nah, I'm good."
