“Off with this.” He tugged on the sleeve of her hoodie. She gaped at him. Um, what? Had he lost his mind?
“You’re mine. That means no wearing other men’s clothes. This is getting burned.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Not happening!
“Off. Now. This is non-negotiable. Call it my hard limit. No other men’s clothing on you. Ever.”
She grabbed her whiteboard and wrote frantically.
It’s mine. I bought it.
He frowned. “Doesn’t matter. Off.”
He was being ridiculous. But when it came down to it, this seemed to be more important to him than this hoodie was to her.
But that was the only reason she gave in.
You’re not burning it!
“Then get it off and out of my sight.”
With a huff, she drew it off then threw it over the back of the sofa. She’d need to remember to grab it later. Then she pulled his hoodie over her head.
Oh Lord, help her.
It smelled like him. His scent surrounded her. Why had she fought putting this on? If he wanted to steal all her clothes and replace them with his, then he was welcome to. When the hoodie was on, he tugged her against him and put the blanket over them before placing the popcorn on her lap.
“Now, what are we watching?”
Dawn of the Dead?
Really? That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He’d thought maybe some rom-com or an action flick if he was lucky.
But zombies and gore? That surprised him. He hoped she didn’t have nightmares. But when he’d suggested something else, she’d looked so sad that he’d let her have her way.
On the positive side, she’d kept grabbing him whenever she’d gotten scared. Which had made him puff up like a proud peacock.
Idiot.
On the negative side, he might not sleep well tonight.
When the movie was over, she pulled her legs up to her chest and buried her face in her knees.
“Duchess? You okay?”
She let out a cry when he touched her back, nearly falling off the sofa. He had to snatch her up and pulling her onto his lap. He held her shaking form in his arms, rocking her back and forth.
“No more zombie movies,” he dictated.
He peered out the windows, wishing he’d pulled the drapes. Fuck. He was meant to be the big, bad bodyguard. He wasn’t supposed to be scared of something that was fiction.
But zombies were terrifying.
Juliet pulled back to give him a sad look.
“Wait. You like them?”
She nodded.