She pauses, and I know she’s wanting me to fill in the blank and reply to her unspoken request, but I don’t give in. And when she sees I’m not going to, she lets out a little huff and releases her hair.
“Would you please bring in my other boxes? They’re really heavy, since they’re full of my books. And since you’re all manly and muscly, I’d really appreciate it if you brought them in for me,” she finishes, pulling her purse up higher on her shoulder.
I stand up from my seat at the island and make my way over to her slowly, going for what I think looks like a leisurely stroll but by the heated look in her eyes while she watches my body as I near, it must come off like a prowl. When I’m right in front of her, her eyes lift from my bare chest to my eyes, and she swallows audibly.
“No problem, goddess. Is there anywhere in particular you’d like me to put them?”
“Uhh…” She blinks. “I really hadn’t thought that far.”
My hand comes up to cup her jaw, my thumb skimming over her smooth and makeup-free cheek. “I have plenty of open shelves in my study. I could move some things around and give you your own couple of bookcases if you’d like.”
Her eyes go wide. “R-Really? You don’t mind my trashy novels sitting next to your psychology books? It’s all so like… pretty and coordinated in there, with all the leather-bound texts and masculine… everything. It’s going to look funny with all my colorful spines and shirtless men on the covers.”
I chuckle. “I mean, what could be more masculine than shirtless men?”
She looks at me in awe, but then she blinks and smiles, her whole face lighting up. “That would be amazing.” And then that little wicked look from yesterday fills her eyes. “Thank you, Viking.”
I groan at the new name she’s given me that she uses whenever I use my height and strength to help her. She called me that earlier this morning when she couldn’t open the new jar of jelly for her biscuit, and I nearly dropped it, even after she called me that yesterday a couple of times. It was going to take some getting used to. No one else had ever bothered to call me anything but Doc since I was a teenager, even at the club.
I lean down and kiss her smiling lips, pulling the keys off the hook by the door next to us and placing them in her hand.
“Be careful. Text me when you get there and when you’re on your way home,” I demand, and she rolls her eyes.
“It’s like, five minutes away.”
I just lift a brow and look at her sternly.
She scoffs. “Fine, Dad.”
With that, she turns toward the door, and I reach ahead of her to pull it open, and without thinking about it, I swat her on the ass when she starts through the door.
She stiffens immediately, and all I can do is shut my eyes, leaning to place my forehead on my knuckles where they grip the wood of the door. I want to kick myself, calling myself every fucking name in the book for not thinking about my actions, feeling too comfortable and not considering the scars I discovered yesterday in the shower.
But then I feel her hand, light on my cheek, and she strokes her thumb down my beard until I open and meet her eyes. She looks up at me, her face soft, clearly having seen my regret the moment it happened.
“I’m all right, Viking,” she whispers. “I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.”
I nod, the knot in my gut loosening, and I take her kiss when she stands up on her tiptoes to place her lips on mine.
“I’ll text you when I get there.” She smiles.
“And on your way home,” I add.
And instead of arguing, she just nods. “And on my way… home.”
Ten minutes later, after moving some things around upstairs, I’m out in the garage. Astrid never asks me for anything, so a feeling of excitement and urgency fills me to set about the task she’s given me. There are seven big boxes against the wall of my garage, stacked up and marked Astrid’s Porn thanks to Seth, when he helped her pack. They’d done it quickly, my coworker and friend wanting to move Twyla in with him as fast as he could “before she changes her mind.”