Page 26 of Rule 5: Never Crush on the Captain
“It’s tilted,” Vinnie says, stretching out his hands. “Let me fix it for you.”
He fiddles with the tiara, and I am aware of the short distance between us and the warmth of his fingers. Something tightens in my chest, and my breath becomes uneven.
Vinnie frowns. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” The words come out hoarser than I intended, and for some reason, I can’t pull my gaze away from his wrists and the way the light shines on the dark hairs that spring from it.
Vinnie is all masculinity.
“You look flushed,” Vinnie says.
“Do I?”
“Yeah. You do.” His brows move together, and I don’t like the way his eyes are scanning me. I don’t like the way my pulse quickens, and I don’t like the way my breath comes out more erratic than before.
“Does your head hurt?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not more than before.”
He nods gravely. “And that was—”
“I’m fine, Vinnie,” I say.
We’re only inches apart, and I’m conscious of the way the light splatters over his face. It’s a nice face. Sturdy and reassuring.
I pull my gaze away, unsure why I’m contemplating the attractiveness of his face.
It’s not the first time I’ve found myself thinking that about men, and I don’t want to go there. This is the man who avoids me, after all.
“Maybe you should sit down,” he says.
“Okay,” I say, because I’d rather he think I’m acting off because of my health than because of him. I mean, I probably am acting off because of my health. Obviously.
Vinnie leads me expertly through the toy-strewn room, then places me on a pillow. I try to maintain some semblance of dignity. I doubt I’m successful.
“He needs a castle,” Stella says. “A prince needs a castle.”
“I agree, Stella.” Vinnie’s eyes simmer, and his lips turn into a smirk. A wave of something, that I’m so not going to call desire, rolls through me. He looks around the room.
His eyes dart to Stella’s chair. “I think this would make an excellent tower.”
“You do?”
He growls at me. “I do.”
Vinnie puts the chair behind me, then ties some of Stella’s sheets to it.
“You’ll need to rewash them.”
“Worth it,” Vinnie says.
I grin.
“I think this is more like a tent than a tower,” I say.
“You’re welcome to buy Stella some supplies for constructing more realistic medieval towers,” he says.
“It’s beautiful, Daddy,” Stella says.
