Page 47 of Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn
I blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t think I’m going to let you go alone, do you? It’s dangerous, Casey. You need someone to have your back.”
I felt tears welling behind my eyes as a wave of emotion washed over me. The fact that he would even think about doing that went above and beyond simple kindness.
“Hey now,” he said softly, brushing a tear away with the pad of his thumb.
“Why? Why would you do that?” I asked.
“Because I feel something for you, something I’ve never felt for anyone before. And, yeah, I know that’s probably the last thing you want to hear after dealing with a crazy stalker, but I swear, I’m not—”
I grabbed his face with both hands and shut him up with a kiss. There was nothing stalkerish about this man. I knew exactly what he was saying because I felt the same way about him. Only time would tell, but my soul was telling me that Steve was my person. My other. Myone.
“I know,” I said softly, breaking the kiss.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’re okay with me tagging along?”
I shook my head. “No. Not because I don’t want you there, but because you have a job. A life. And this is your busiest season. Your family needs you here.”
“They’ll manage,” he said stubbornly. “And—”
I shut him up with another kiss, overwhelmed. I reached between us and stroked him through his jeans.
He made a low, growly sound and scooped me up into his arms.
“We’re not done talking about this,” he said, carrying me back to the bedroom.
Much later, we lay, sated and exhausted, in his bed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so content or so complete. It only reinforced my determination to close the last chapter of my life and start a new one.
17
I woke up before dawn,taking a moment to appreciate the beautiful man sleeping beside me. He looked even younger in slumber, his face relaxed, his hair falling haphazardly over those amazing eyes that I’d gazed into as he made slow, sweet love to me. Afterward, he’d pulled me close against him, and that was how we’d drifted off together. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so soundly. No night terrors. No bad dreams. I felt safe with him, and apparently, my subconscious did too. Being in his arms was better than any pharmaceutical.
At some point during the night, Oscar had made his way into the bed with us. Thankfully, it hadn’t been when we were, uh, busy.
Eventually, I got up and padded to the kitchen, intent on cleaning up the mess we’d left in favor of other things. He’d been so good to me; doing the dishes and making breakfast before he took me home were the least I could do.
Oscar came with me. He let himself out through the doggie door. I filled his water dish and poured some kibble from the bag I’d seen Steve use the night before.
I brewed a pot of coffee and foraged for everything I’d need. He wasn’t kidding about having a well-stocked kitchen. I gathered eggs, sausage, potatoes, onions, and peppers—all fresh and locally sourced—and made an omelet to end all omelets.
I was just plating my masterpiece when I looked up and saw him leaning against the wall, watching me from the hallway. He was shirtless and barefoot, a pair of loose gray sweats riding low on his slim hips and showcasing a fantastic happy trail and … other things. Add in his sleep-tousled hair and shadowed jaw, and I was a goner.
My first thought:I could definitely get used to seeing this every morning.
My second thought was … well, I didn’t have a second thought. The man had a way of short-circuiting my brain.
“I thought you couldn’t cook,” he said, moving forward.
“Of course I can cook. But why should I when I have handsome men to do it for me?”
He came up behind me, put his hand on my hip, and coaxed me into a kiss that felt primitive and possessive. The hard bulge pressing against me was pretty nice too.
“Handsomemen?” he growled.
