Pit Stop: Baby! (Crescent Cove 4)

He lifted his shoulder. “Got it.”

I wanted to crawl right into the cracks in the sidewalk. “I’m okay. You can put me down now.”

“Nope. We’re going to get you upstairs and get some sugar into you. You’re not doing one of those stupid juice cleanses or air diets, right?”

“What? You think I need a diet?” What the heck was an air diet anyway?

“God, no. You’re fucking beautiful.”

Slightly mollified, I huffed out a growl. “Then what the hell?”

“Because you fainted on the sidewalk, Ry. You probably didn’t eat.”

Well, he had me there. I hadn’t eaten, but I didn’t even have a headache. I couldn’t be that hungry. And based on the condition of my fridge this morning, I’d definitely eaten something last night. How the hell was I supposed to explain that?

Oh, don’t worry, I’m like a zombie past midnight except I stress-eat PBJs instead of brains. No big.

Rather than address the peanut butter-flavored elephant sitting in my belly, I nodded at my bag still over his shoulder. “My keys have a security fob.”

He backed into the panel and lifted his shoulder to get the keys near the sensor. When the door opened, he maneuvered us inside and up the stairs as if I didn’t weigh a damn thing. His muscles rippled under my thighs and his grip was nice and secure.

I’d never felt so safe in my life.

He needed to put me down now. These definitely were not the feelings I wanted to have for this man.

“Look, I just didn’t sleep great last night.”

“Why? Thinking about me?”

“You wish.”

“I do.” His gaze dropped to my mouth then back to my eyes. “Especially if they’re dirty thoughts.” He grinned. “Door locked?”

“No.”

He sighed. “Not exactly smart.”

“Small town.”

“Still weirdos in small towns. Don’t you watch television?”

“Wait, you mean like weirdos who insist on carrying women around and then ply them with sugar behind closed doors? Guys like that?” I smiled. “Nope, never heard of that sort.”

“Smart ass.” He juggled me enough to get his hand around the doorknob.

“I could stand up.” But he was already on his way inside.

Sack of potatoes for the win.

He kicked the door shut behind us and crossed my apartment in two strides, setting me on the couch. He cupped my face and tipped my chin up so he could look me right in the eyes. “There you are. You don’t resemble a piece of paper anymore. I like the golden color you usually have.”

When he stared at me just a little too long, then his gaze dropped to my mouth again, I batted his hands away. “I’m fine.”

Instead of going in for the kiss I knew he wanted—nope. Not going there again. I would not be swayed.

Probably.

I was almost sure.