Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
My heart swells.
This is the Troy I suspected was buried under those layers of grumpiness. He’s a sweet, kind man who isn’t quite as hard as he makes himself out to be. But that’s okay. I know he’s there. And as long as he feels safe enough with me to be this way, that’s all that matters.
“Only if you’ll get in with me,” I say, smiling at him.
His face lights up. “Deal.”
Who said you can’t have dessert at the beginning of the day? If I’m lucky, I might get an afternoon snack, too.
Chapter Fifteen
Dahlia
“Is this everything you thought it would be?” Troy asks, splashing warm water gently onto my chest.
He sits behind me in the tub, his front to my back, and holds me like we’ve done this a hundred times.
I lean my head on his chest and poke my toes out of the bubbles, thinking about my mom’s thoughts on baths being the epitome of sophistication. This is decadent, but more because of the man holding me and less about the bathtub.
“No,” I say.
“No?”
“No. It’s not everything I thought it would be.”
“Why? I want this to meet your expectations. I can’t fail you now.”
I laugh. “When I dreamed of this bathtub experience, it didn’t have a gorgeous man who has a bit of an attitude problem from time to time but can also be pretty damn sweet when he wants to be, sitting with his arms around me.” I tilt my head back so I can see his face. “This is so much better than I thought it would be.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I all but swoon.
We’ve sat here for a long time—long enough for the hot water to cool twice. Troy ran downstairs during the second refill and got us water and a bag of Doritos that he found in the pantry.
The bathroom is humid. Steam fogs the vanity mirrors. It’s cozy and warm … and wonderful.
“This is a new experience for me, you know,” I say, drawing circles onto Troy’s muscled forearms.
“What? Taking a bath with someone?”
“Um, no. I’ve done that.”
He bristles. “Let’s move this conversation along.”
I laugh again, my damp hair sticking to his chest. “I don’t normally feel this relaxed around someone. I usually make them work for it.”
“You don’t think I worked for it?”
“No.”
“Okay. Do you have any idea how hard it has been to work with you every motherfucking day for the past two years and try to pretend you’re just another girl?”
I scoff. “That’s not working for it. That’s working not for it or something.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Yes, it does,” I say. “You were actively working on not hooking up with me. That’s not working for it, Castelli.”
His chest rises and falls, moving me with it.
“I want to be clear about something,” he says, his tone somber.
“What?”
“This wasn’t a hookup.”
My chest fills with a warmth that’s so unexpected that I squirm.
“I warned you. I—”
“Oh, I remember. I wanted fucked, and you wanted to have a conversation about condoms, and work complications, and sexually transmitted diseases, and—”
“It’s called being responsible.”
I look back at him and smile. “I know. And, honestly, I love that you did all those things. It makes me feel …”
He pulls me snugly against him again. “It makes you feel what?”
Loved.
The word echoes through my brain, but I know I can’t say it. It’s ridiculous to think it. Saying it would be asinine. I’m not the kind of girl who thinks she loves a guy the first time they have sex. I didn’t tell Freddy I loved him, and we dated for months.
Besides, I don’t love Troy. I can’t love Troy. I don’t know him well enough to love him.
Don’t be stupid, Dahlia.
“Valued,” I say, plucking a word out of the air. “It makes me feel valued.”
“You should always feel valued.”
I grin. “I really felt valued when you had your fist in my hair and was railing me from behind.”
He chuckles. The sound makes my grin grow even bigger.
“What do you mean when you say this wasn’t a hookup?” I ask, my stomach fluttering. “What does that look like?”
“It looks like if Theo calls you again to chitchat about Wednesday office snacks, he’ll be eating his food through a fucking straw.”
“Stop it,” I say, laughing.
“I fucking mean it.”
I lean up and scoot around so my back is on the other side of the tub and I’m facing Troy. He’s not smiling, or laughing, or at all amused. And, my lord, it’s hot.
“You can’t do that,” I say. “We work together. He’s probably going to call me sometimes.”
“And once he finds out you’re mine, he better choose those calls carefully.”
“And once he finds out that you’re mine …”
I shiver despite the warm water.
“What are we going to do about work?” I ask. “All joking aside. I haven’t exactly read the employee handbook about fraternization, but I’m assuming in our line of work, it’s a no-no.”