Page 35 of Humility

My reason for getting to the kitchen in the first place escaped me as I sat down at the table and put my head in my hands.

“I’m a mess. I’m not cut out for this,” I said as a warm hand gripped my shoulder, which only made me want to cry harder. I was thousands of miles away from everything I knew. Breaking away from the family and the overpampering sounded like freedom, but here I was on my second day, already falling apart.

“Hey, don’t cry. It’s going to be okay.” Enzo squatted in front of me. I felt humiliated. “Tell me what I can do. How can I help?”

“I was in the shower, but the water stopped working, and I have soap in my eyes, and then I stubbed my toe and stepped on what I think is a splinter.” I held up a strand of my wet, sudsy hair. “I have shampoo in my hair.”

It all seemed so trivial, said out loud, but it felt like the world was crashing in on me, and to make matters worse, I was bawling in front of my sexy new landlord. Could I make a bigger fool of myself?

* * *

ENZO

The good Lord was testing me. That was all I could think of as Isabella opened the door and stood there looking like the sexiest creature I’d ever seen. My heart was beating so loud that I couldn’t hear anything else. My cock stood at attention like a soldier ready for duty as my eyes raked down her body. The inch gap in the sweater wasn’t near enough. I wanted to rip it open and take her up against the wall. I was no slouch when it came to women and had been called a ladies’ man on more than one occasion, but I’d never felt a rush like this.

“I’m kinda having a bad morning,” she said, closing her eyes and covering her mouth with a small grey towel. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Isabella hobbled toward the kitchen, and I was left with the option of closing the door and leaving or closing the door and following her.

There was no option. I followed her. Fuck, I would follow her anywhere she wanted to go. My body sang with just the sight of her.

“I’m a mess. I’m not cut out for this,” Isabella cried. I gently gripped her shoulder, but it only made her cry harder.

“Hey, don’t cry. It’s going to be okay.” I squatted in front of her and immediately knew that was a terrible idea. “Tell me what I can do. How can I help,” I asked, trying to remain professional, but the sweater rose up her thighs when she sat down. It covered just enough that I couldn’t see anything but another half an inch, and I would have the whole show.

Thank God she didn’t notice how I couldn’t peel my eyes away from the small triangle of her partially spread legs.

Licking my lips, I tried to listen to what she said, but the hard cock pressing on my jeans made it very difficult. The word ‘splinter’ registered, and I quickly stood and grabbed her a bottle of water, setting it on the table before going on the hunt for tweezers.

I had to put some space between the two of us before I did something wildly inappropriate. Yanking open the cupboard door in the downstairs bathroom, I found the small kit I’d seen in here before.

I returned to the kitchen and found Isabella dampening the towel and wiping at her red and swollen eyes. I felt horrible. Part of this was my fault. I knew there was an issue with the water and had called in, but I hadn’t followed up and totally forgot about it.

Grabbing a chair, I sat it in front of her and patted my lap.

“Give me the foot with the splinter.”

“You’re going to pull it out?” Everything she said sounded sexual. My brain was permanently stuck in the gutter.

“Yeah, I have the right tool for the job,” I said, holding the tweezers. Yet, that wasn’t the tool my brain conjured. I tried to rein in all the images of Isabella on the kitchen table as I made her feel better in a whole other way. She put her naked leg on my lap, and once again, I knew this was a bad idea.

I gripped her smooth calf and bit back the groan from my chest as my entire body shuddered.

“Is everything okay,” Isabella asked. I couldn’t get a word out and didn’t dare look up, or I really would spread her legs and kneel between them. This attraction wasn’t normal.

I nodded and forced myself to focus, lifting her delicate foot a little higher to see the bottom.

Her toenails were painted bright red, a devious color for someone who seemed so innocent. Maybe she had another side hiding under the sweet exterior. I gently ran my finger up the sole of her foot, and she giggled and squirmed in her seat. Ticklish, good to know.

The sharp point was easy to see. The old, darkened wood stood out against her fair skin. I smirked as I nabbed the piece and pulled it free.

I held it up. “There it is. That should feel a lot better now.”

“Thank you. I cannot even imagine what you must think of me.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” I blurted out, and she just blinked at me.

Clearing my throat, I put her foot down and went to the garbage. I couldn’t believe I just said that. Was I trying to scare her off?

When I turned around, she was standing, and a fucking knit sweater had never looked so sexy. She held it closed, but doing so molded the fabric to her body. Damn, she was all up in my head, and my blood sang.