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A single pink rose sits in a vase on the kitchen counter, and I lean in and sniff it, smiling. “Thanks for cooking,” I say. “I would love to help.”
“Next time, you can,” he says. “I wanted you to relax while you are here. Feel cared for.”
“Oh, trust me,” I say, “I feel cared for. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this taken care of in my life.”
“Good.” The word comes out rough, but his gaze is soft as he flips a pancake on the stove. “You know what? If you want to help, there’s some cream in the fridge. You can whip it for the pancakes.”
“It’s a good thing that the power came on,” I say. “I guess that means things are going to clear up soon.”
He nods, but there’s tension in his shoulders.
Savage’s kitchen is neat, and I squeeze past him where he stands in front of the gas burners, spooning pancake mix onto his skillet. I grab the whipped cream out of the silver slab that is his fridge and he directs me to the bowls in the dark wood cupboards.
I whip up the cream, standing next to him at the counter. The corners of his lips are tilted upward, and he occasionally strokes his beard and gives me a sideways glance. Savage slides his arm around my waist and pulls me to his side, and I let out a squeak.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I reply. “I’m starving.”
Savage dishes up the pancakes onto plates while I get out the butter and syrup. He places the whipped cream on the table, and it’s giving me all kinds of ideas.
He pours us two glasses of water and we start eating.
“You’re not going to check your phone?” I ask.
“Later,” he says.
My heart thumps in my chest. I have to get this situation under control, because I’m already so into him, I can barely think straight. “So,” I say, with a grin. “We should talk.”
He arches an eyebrow. “What about, Princess?”
My skin prickles at the nickname. “About that,” I say. “You calling me that. The insanely good sex we’ve been having. The fact that I can get out full sentences in front of you for once.”
He chuckles, and I’m stunned. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Savage laugh. Not properly. It’s an uninhibited sound, and an easy smile slips onto my face.
Trouble. You are in trouble.
“You don’t want a relationship,” I say. “You said you don’t have a heart to give, and I understand that you’ve got a lot of stuff going on.”
He doesn’t answer, but that smile has faded, and his hand goes to the pocket of his sweats. “I’m not worth your time emotionally, Hannah. I come with too much baggage.”
“And I appreciate that and your honesty,” I say. “But I don’t want to stop… this.” I point at him with my fork and then back at me. “Not until I leave town.”
“You’re still leaving,” he says.
“Yes. Of course.”
A frown wrinkles his brow. “All right. I— Fine.”
“Is there a problem with that?”
The wrinkles deepen. “No. You’re your own woman and person. You should do what makes you happy. Just, uh, I want you to be safe.”
“Well, while I’m here, you can continue being my bodyguard,” I say.
He grunts but doesn’t answer.
“You don’t have to tell Cash about us.” I lift my chin. “In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t. Because we’re not serious, right? So, we’ll fool around, have some fun, and once I’m gone, you can pretend it never happened.”
