Page 36 of House of Scarlett
Scarlett
Cowboy?Really? I called him cowboy?
It’s official. I’m the biggest dork in the history of the planet. But ... he’s still holding my hand, and his thumb strokes across the back of it, giving me a thrill every few seconds.
Let’s not tell him that, okay, Scarlett?
I keep my thoughts to myself for the rest of the ride, but the tension in the SUV doesn’t return. Maybe it’s because everything feels so ...right.I don’t know how that’s possible, but I’m going to roll with it.
When the SUV stops at the curb, Gabriel is out and opening my door before the driver.
“I got you.” He unbuckles my belt for me and lifts me into his arms before I realize what his plan is.
“I can walk. I promise.”
“You can, but you’re not.”
His blue eyes offer no invitation to argue, so I settle against him, enjoying the novelty.
“You’re pretty bossy, you know?”
He glances down at me as we make our way up the walk. “You have no idea. Which door? Front?”
“Side. I don’t want anyone to see me. Go around to the right.”
But he doesn’t. He pauses first and calls out to the driver. “Bring the flowers and the duffel inside the front. Someone will get them where they need to go. Thanks for the ride.”
“Thank you, bossy,” I whisper as he starts around the side of the building and through the gate, getting me out of sight as quickly as possible.
“Still not a good nickname,” he says, pausing to glance at the locks on the door. “I don’t suppose you have keys?”
“In my pocket.”
I wiggle in his arms, but it hurts a little to fish my keys out of my joggers that Kelsey helped me change into this morning. She’s helped me in and out of enough clothes that it didn’t even seem strange. Which would not be the case at all if it were this man.
A memory from a few weeks ago flashes through my brain. Gabriel snapping the elastic of my panties and then thrusting into me over and over until I lost my damned mind.
God, that was amazing.And totally not happening for a minimum of one week—from yesterday. According to my doctor, I need to heal and then let my body tell me when it’s ready to undertake more strenuous “exercise.” The doctor meant like working out, but my mind was in the gutter, and Flynn’s comments made it nearly impossible to keep a straight face.
“So she should avoid thrusting movements? No riding? Horseback or otherwise?”
I’m pretty sure the doctor was concerned about my blood pressure after how red my face got, but he bolted from the room as soon as I confirmed I understood the post-op instructions he’d given me.
And now here I am, being carried up four flights of stairs by Gabriel Legend, who isn’t even breathing hard.
“I’m going to call you He-Man. How am I not heavy? Or, God, am I heavy but you’re just really good at hiding it?”
He pauses on the landing outside the door that leads into my kitchen, and stares down at me in his arms. “I used to fight for my life. I ran stairs in a plate-loaded vest. Worked out untilI pukedevery day. This is easy, ladybug. Even for He-Man. Can we get the door, though, so I can put you down where you’ll be more comfortable?”
“Oh, sorry. Sure.”
I fumble with the keys for longer than it should take me, because I’m not really ready for him to put me down, especially if it’s no hardship for him.We’ll save that admission for the hopefully not-so-distant future, however.
As soon as the door to my apartment opens, a fresh lemony-herb scent escapes, telling me my cleaning crew has been here.Thank God.No pukey toilet to scrub.
“You can set me down here,” I tell Gabriel, pointing to the floor in front of us.
He shakes his head and looks around my space. “Bedroom?”
