Page 20 of Dearest Protector

Well, I felt that tension.

Ben, maybe not so much.

It was absolutely stupid for me to feel this inexplicable pull toward him, but I’d tried everything to make it go away, and it wasn’t happening.

Snapping myself out of my silly, lust-filled daze, I said, “I made dinner. There’s lasagna on warm in the oven and a salad in the fridge.”

I glanced at the clock before I added, “I should get going.”

How long could I stare at him like a lovesick teenager before he’d realize that I was ridiculously attracted to him?

I picked up the items I’d used to hang the picture and scrambled toward the kitchen.

Ben followed me. “I told you not to bother with cooking.”

I shrugged as I put the tools away. “It’s not a bother,” I said honestly. “I like to cook, and you know you would have ordered takeout if I hadn’t.”

For a man as physically fit as he was, his eating habits were terrible.

One of my first priorities had been to clean out his fridge. The guy never cooked or ate healthy. All of the old takeout food he’d stored in the refrigerator had been my first clue about his eating habits when I’d tossed it all out.

I grocery shopped every week, trying to make sure he ate healthier than he had in the past.

Ben spent so much time worrying about others that he rarely took care of himself as well as he took care of other people and his business.

I’d made it my goal to make sure that he was more comfortable in his own home, and that included having something other than takeout to eat.

He might complain that I didn’t need to cook, but he usually ate everything I prepared, which had been my incentive to keep on making him healthier food to eat.

Ben appreciated what I did for him, and that was enough for me.

“It smells fantastic,” he admitted. “I’m starving. I had an important meeting, and I forgot to eat lunch today.”

I frowned. I had no doubt that happened fairly often.

He didn’t really eat breakfast, either.

Ben left for work before I arrived in the morning, but I saw the empty glass in the sink and the container of protein powder on the counter every morning.

I suspected that he worked out hard every morning in his home gym before work, but he didn’t have time to eat something more substantial?

Obviously, his idea of a decent breakfast was a protein shake before he left for work.

What kind of nutrition was that for a guy who hit the ground running the moment he arrived at the Blackwood offices?

I’d studied nutrition extensively as a dancer.

Yes, I’d had to watch what I ate, but I knew the importance of fueling up for a busy day.

Now that I wasn’t short of money, I’d started to take care of myself again, and it bothered me that my boss, who was paying my paycheck, still wasn’t eating as well as I did.

“You should have called me,” I admonished. “I could have brought something to your office for you. Iamyour personal assistant. That’s my job, Ben, and it’s not like I’m overloaded with work. Next time, please call me.”

He shook his head. “I guess I just didn’t think about it. I’m not used to anyone helping me out with personal stuff.”

I rolled my eyes as I checked on the food in the oven.

Hello?Wasn’t that what he paidmefor?

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