on either side of her legs, leaning into her but giving her just enough space. “And you say that I’m trouble,” I murmur, my voice low as I meet her eyes.
“I think I'm more trouble than you could handle,” she tells me. “But only the good kind.” She winks as she throws my own words back at me, and I think I fall instantly in love. No woman has ever bested me at my own game, yet here she is, absolutely schooling me.
My heart races, and my need to hold her only intensifies. Would it be too impulsive to kiss her right now? My eyes drop to her lips, and they call to me like never before, begging to be kissed, but I don’t think she’s ready. She confirms that very thought a second later. “Don’t even think about it, Romeo,” she murmurs as though this is some kind of game, and her lips are the prize.
My eyes pull back up to hers, and I can’t help but smile at her. “Too late, Angel. I’m already thinking about it.”
Her cheeks flush once again and I see the excitement in her eyes, but I won’t push her on it. She said no, and I’m not about to go and disrespect that. “Well, you’re going to have to think about something else.”
“What are you doing on Saturday night?” I ask.
“Uh,” she says, pretending to think about it. “I think I’m washing my hair.” She gives me a straight look. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m a single mom with two babies under four. I’ll be cooking dinner and hoping not to burn it before chasing them around the house and getting them in bed by a decent hour.”
“You always burn dinner?” I question.
She shrugs a shoulder, her eyes dancing with laughter. “Do you always barge into random women’s homes in the middle of the night?”
“Angel, you’re far from random.”
Her eyes flick down to my lips as she sucks in a slow breath. She wants to kiss me, and I silently beg her to change her mind. What I wouldn’t give to feel those lips on mine. She starts to melt towards me when her back straightens, and before I know it, a wall slams down behind her eyes, completely blocking me out as she pulls back. “We can’t do this,” she tells me.
“Baby, that would be a tragedy,” I tell her, giving her my honest truth.
“I’m just … I’m sorry. I can’t.”
I study her for a moment, but there’s no way in hell I’m about to back up just yet. I try to look through the wall behind her eyes, and all I see is a deep pain. Someone has torn her heart to shreds and considering she has two babies still so young, I’d dare say it was the kids’ father, and it’s probably still fresh.
Something pulls inside me, a desperation to take her pain away and heal her heart, but I can’t do that if she refuses to let me in. I lean in just a little bit more and whisper, “Who hurt you, Angel?”
Her eyes cut away from mine as she moves further back on the counter, putting a little more distance between us. “I think you should go. It’s getting late.”
I nod. She might be right, and I don’t want to push her and ruin my chances. I step back but continue studying her. “You don’t need to be scared of me.”
She shakes her head. “You’re exactly the kind of guy I need to be scared of.”
She’ll never know just how much those few words tear at my heart. “Thanks for dinner, Angel,” I tell her before walking around the counter and giving her a little more space. “Don’t forget to lock up behind me.”
She nods ever so slightly, and I make my way through the house, back towards the door. “By the way,” I tell her, reaching for the door handle. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her mouth opens to say something when the chainsaw on the couch stops and grunts before a yawn rips out of it. I glance over, momentarily distracted, and watch Zoey rub a hand over her face and reluctantly sit up. She blinks a few times, and when she sees me standing in the doorway, she sucks in a shocked breath. “Who the hell are you?” she grumbles, rubbing a hand over her face. I fight a laugh when her eyes widen in embarrassment as she notices the drool covering the side of