was causing his reaction, I clung to him, kissing him back and groaning as he lifted me, trapping me against the door. Finally, his head dropped to my shoulder with a heavy sigh as he set me back on my feet.
“What was that for?” I whispered.
His warm blue eyes were troubled. “You were two hours late, Julia. Two hours. You’re never late. I called your cell phone, and it went straight to voice mail. I called the rooming house, and that cranky landlady of yours told me you weren’t there and to stop bothering her—she was no help at all. Melinda hadn’t heard from you—I couldn’t find you.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “I was so worried, my girl.”
I slipped my fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp. “I’m so sorry. My class ran late, and then the professor kept me back about my last assignment. He doesn’t let us have our cell phones on…and I forgot to turn it back on when I went to get my stuff…” I rambled until he laid his finger on my lips.
“Okay, it’s okay now. You’re here.” He glanced at the bag I had dropped when he picked me up. “I have you the rest of the weekend, right?”
“Yes. You’ll be sick of me by Sunday.”
“Impossible.” He wrapped his arms back around me. “Nothing can happen to you. I need you too much.”
He still sounded so stressed. Wanting him to relax, I grinned up at him. “Admit it, Byron. You were just afraid I went back to the dark side and I was sitting at McDonald’s stuffing myself on McNuggets.”
His lips quirked. “With sauce, of course.”
“What are nuggets without sauce?”
“What, indeed?” He smirked. He pulled back, straightening his shoulders and once again becoming Chef Lord. Cool, in charge, controlled—except for the passionate look in his eyes as he gazed at me. He held out his hand. “You’ve had a long day. You must be hungry.”
I slipped my hand into his, loving how it felt as he folded his much larger one around mine. “Yes.”
“Good. I’ll make you dinner.”
I kissed his cheek, the stubble on his skin rough under my lips. “Thank you. You look after me so well.”
He pulled me into his side. “I like looking after you.” He pressed his lips against my temple. “It’s my favorite thing to do.”
I pulled on my hair in frustration. The day had passed by in a flurry of preparation, hours of phone calls, and pounding the keyboard looking for a place to live. Places that were available, I couldn’t afford unless I got another job, which I didn’t have time for. The ones I could afford made the small room and grumpy landlady I’d been dealing with seem like the Taj Mahal. I shut my eyes, taking in a deep, somewhat calming breath. I had lined up two places to see on Monday. I already knew I would hate both of them, but I reminded myself it would only be for a few months. Once school was done and students were moving out, I could find a better place. Maybe Byron or Gerard would know someone looking to rent out a room. I could stay with Melinda for a couple weeks if I had to, but their condo was small. Also, Mark often worked from home, using the second bedroom as an office, so it would be a huge imposition for them; although I knew they would make me welcome. I hated putting anyone out. Byron would no doubt let me stay, but I hated asking. He was so busy all the time and such a private man. I wasn’t sure he’d want me camping out in his guest room.
I stayed with him the occasional night and had even spent the odd weekend when I was studying hard, but our relationship hadn’t moved to the next level. We still hadn’t had sex—Byron insisted he wanted the time to be right and not to rush into anything. I slept in his bed, curled into him, but aside from some heavy make-out sessions, he hadn’t let things progress past that point yet. I did enjoy staying here, though—the house was peaceful and so comfortable. The added bonus was Byron coming home at the end of the day, but still, I hesitated. It had only been six weeks, so I didn’t want to ask and put him on the spot. I would go and see the places on Monday, and then tell him what was going on.