Page 21 of Cinnamon Strudel
He patted the bed next to him, so she manoeuvred around Blue, who clearly had his favourite spot, and sat beside Morgan. “Was it difficult to trust your artist?”
“Because I can’t see what he was doing to me?”
“Basically.”
“No, he took plenty of breaks and took pictures of every step. He was very patient and had Manuel looking over his shoulder almost the entire time.”
“Ah, so they do show their protectiveness.”
“Until they silently move my furniture and watch me stub my damn toes.”
She shifted, leaning sideways against the headboard and draping her legs over his. His hand dropped to her thigh, stroking the skin through the borrowed sweats. “Do they listen when you tell them you’ve had enough?”
Morgan nodded, head rolling back with a lazy smile that had her insides all jelly-like. “Yes, they know when to draw a line. Well, sometimes. They crossed one today, but I guess they justwanted to be sure that I was okay. They aren’t used to me actually dating.”
“‘Actually dating?’”
“My brothers like to say that I have more than average sex for a blind dude, but usually it’s nothing more than one-night stands. Women get curious, but they don’t stay around when things get tough.”
“The ones where they have to make sure to keep the spaghetti out of reach.”
Morgan laughed, and she adored how open he was. “I also don’t tell them how blind I actually am and since I meet them here, they don’t realise it.”
“Faker.”
“Oh darlin’, you are one of a kind.” His fingers slipped under the sweats, warm against her ankles. “But it’s nice to be perceived as normal once in a while.”
“I find you normal, but I know what you mean.” He squeezed her ankle softly, pushing up the pant leg just a little more. “Have you ever been ice skating?”
Morgan’s brows hit his hairline. “Ice skating? No, but I assume you are asking because you want me to go?”
“I would love that.”
“Maybe my brothers were right. You do know I’m blind and what that means, right?”
“I can hold your hand.”
Morgan trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, mulling over the answer. “Fuck it. I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to. I mean, there’s a very high chance that I’ll land on my ass, but Iwasjust whining about not being treated like a normal person.”
“You can always overrule me with something you’d be more comfortable with.”
“I will be comfortable with you around.”
Her knuckles brushed his bicep, the muscle flexing beneath her touch in a way that made her mouth water. “That means a lot to me.”
“They do have an exhibition tour at the Museum of Art. I’ve always wanted to visit but never wanted to go alone.”
“I would happily go with you. I’ve never been to one.” She tried her best to stifle her yawn, but it was in vain. Morgan noticed and shifted his weight, pulling at her ankles until she fell to her back, laughing.
“When do you have to be at work tomorrow?”
“Noon.”
“Perfect, we can have brunch together.” Bracing himself to either side of her head, he leaned over and kissed a path from her jaw up to her lips. Her toes curled and her hands danced up Morgan’s sides, finding herself amused when he squirmed.
