Rush_Hector & Millie

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Rush_Hector & Millie Page 24

by Marianne Knightly


  If she wasn’t worried about morning breath, she might’ve deepened it, but held back because he did.

  He brushed his nose against hers, then scooted off the bed and jumped into his wheelchair.

  She blinked, noticing him fully for the first time. “Your shirt’s gone.” She’d been hugging him shirtless—shirtless!—and she hadn’t even realized.

  Oh. My. God.

  “Told you I sleep in the buff, baby. Left on boxers last night but wasn’t going to sleep in a shirt.”

  Her eyes trailed down. “Your legs are gone.”

  He grinned.

  Shit! “I—I—I mean your pants are gone.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  Her cheeks burned, and she clasped a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that. And now she couldn’t stop staring at his legs.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  She covered her face with both of her hands, not caring she was also covering and smudging her glasses in the process.

  His hands pulled hers down. “Christ, you’re cute.”

  She blinked. “I’m not cute! I just insulted you.”

  He was still grinning. “How’d you do that?”

  Since she couldn’t use her hands to gesture, she nodded her head at his body. “I just said your legs were gone.”

  “Aren’t they?”

  “Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean I need to mention it.”

  He chuckled—chuckled!—at her. “Hate to break this to you, baby, but I knew my legs were gone.”

  “Of course you knew.”

  “So, you saying it isn’t an insult.”

  “But then I stared.” Why couldn’t she shut up?

  He shrugged. “Lots of people stare when they see it them both for the first time. I don’t mind you staring. Since I hope you’ll get the chance to see me—and I mean all of me—at some point, stare away, babe.”

  All of him? Good God. She couldn’t even handle him in boxers.

  She was with Hector and he was only in his boxers. Shit. Shit. “Shit.”

  She sucked a breath.

  He just chuckled again.

  It was annoying when he laughed at her that way. It was also annoying that she kind of liked that she made him laugh. Being annoyed irritated her, which made her snap. She had to do it, or she’d remember what an idiot she was being. “Hector.”

  “Do you realize you curse after you say something awkward?”

  Her mouth dropped open, then shut. Did she?

  “I’ll take that as no.”

  “You curse all the time.”

  “Don’t need to. Don’t usually do it when I’m working or doing business at the pub. You want me to stop when we’re alone, I’ll stop. Or I’ll try to.”

  “I don’t want you to change,” she said immediately.

  His face softened. “Good, baby. Then why’d you mention me cursing?”

  “You mentioned my cursing.”

  “Yeah, to point out how fucking cute you were being.”

  “It’s cute when I curse?”

  He leaned forward. “Definitely.”

  She sighed and stared up at the ceiling. “Shit.”

  He laughed. Full out. With his entire body and, because he was still holding her hands, her body shook, too. It was a deep, husky laugh that left her tingling in her core.

  When his laughter slowed, his face kept a broad, slightly wonky smile. She liked making him smile, even if it was due to her being a colossal idiot.

  “Let me get your water, baby.”

  She moved to scoot off the bed. “I can get it.”

  He moved his hands to her thighs. Her body stilled. She didn’t know what to do. Should she touch him back? Should she ask him to move his hands? What should she do?

  “Babe, I may have lost my legs, but I’m not an invalid.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you?”

  “I just said I did. I’ve seen you being all capable and, and…manly.” She clapped a hand on her forehead. Seriously, what was wrong with her?

  “Manly, huh?” His voice lowered. “Did you like it when I was being all…manly?”

  She wanted to say ‘God, yes’. Since that would give too much away, she didn’t say anything at all.

  “I’m going to take that as a yes. Well, let me get you some water, then we’ll go to bed.”

  She glanced at the clock and saw it was barely two in the morning. “We?”

  His face hardened. “Not going to leave you, babe. Even if I’m sleeping in this chair next to the bed, no way are you facing your dreams alone.”

  God, that was sweet. “I can’t let you sleep in the chair. It wouldn’t be right. This is your home.”

  “Ours, babe.”

  She sucked in a breath.

  “Right now, it’s our home since you’re staying with me. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fallen asleep in the chair.”

  She gave the large bed a furtive look. “But…but it’s not right.”

  “Baby, this bed is big enough for both of us, but you’re not ready for that, even just for sleeping.”

  Was she? Maybe. Maybe not. For him, she’d give it a try.

  “Do you want me to stay with you? I’ll sleep above the covers, if that helps.”

  “Yes.” It came out of her mouth before she had a chance to change her mind.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She said it again!

  “All right, baby. Settle in. I’ll be right back.”

  Settle. Right. She could do this. She could spend her first night with a man. It wasn’t the same as spending a night with a man, but still.

  God. How had things turned to this? She’d woken from a nightmare and he’d been super sweet and cuddly. Then she’d been an idiot and he’d laughed because he thought it was cute.

  She was cute, according to him. Her, Amelia Asti, cute. Even with horrendous bruising on her face. Even with her imposing on him in his home, which he didn’t seem to mind, but still.

  Cute.

  Could she really be cute? And, if she was cute, did that mean she couldn’t be sexy? Men always wanted sexy. They didn’t always want cute.

  But then, what did she know? She’d never been wanted either way.

  He came back with her water and she glugged it down, very unladylike. He just quirked his lips. Damn the man. He could look sexy and cute without even trying.

  “You want more?”

  She shook her head, then took off her glasses and set them on the bedside table.

  “All right, baby. Which side of the bed do you want?”

  “Which side do you usually sleep on?”

  “Which side do you want, babe?”

  “The side you usually don’t sleep on. Babe.”

  He just shook his head, clearly amused. “I usually take this side so I’ve got more room to get on and off the bed.”

  She. Was. Such. An. Idiot.

  She scoot over. “Of course. I should have realized.”

  “Not a big deal, baby.”

  “But I should have realized. I always miss things.”

  He hopped onto the bed. “That’s because you spend a lot of time in your head. Nothing wrong with that. Comes a time everyone needs to do it. But there also comes a time when you need to step back, see what’s going on in the world.”

  “The world hasn’t been so great for me,” she whispered.

  A pause. “Settle in, baby.”

  She laid down on her back and pulled the covers over her. She considered turning on her side again, but, because of her cast, she’d have to sleep on her side facing him.

  He settled in next to her on his back, one of his hands going behind his head, the other resting on his stomach. Oh. Maybe she should have let him have the covers. Don’t stare, Millie. Eyes front!

  “Amelia?”

  Her head jerked. “What? Yes?”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Uh, no.”

&
nbsp; “Hmm.” He sounded amused by her again. “Tell me about your jewelry business.”

  “Uh, what?”

  “Jewelry. Why’d you start making it? There are lots of businesses you could start from home. Why that one?”

  She didn’t think it was all that interesting, but she told him all about how she got started in the business by accident, then taught herself how to make it. How she began going to shows and craft fairs and then set up a site online.

  She told him that she’d hoped to finally start setting money aside for savings. She’d been trying to set up an emergency fund, but it was so difficult when every piece of change was needed for essentials or the nursing home or for growing her business. If she wanted to make more money, she had to make more jewelry and spend more money on supplies to do that; it was that simple.

  “Why did you buy the pub? You probably could have done most anything.”

  “Low. It was his idea to buy the pub, and he asked me to run it until I could buy him out. He helped me in my recovery. Liliana helped me, too.”

  Her brows furrowed. “The prince’s daughter? How?”

  He picked up something on the side table and held it out to her. “She gave me this. Indirectly, but she did.”

  She lifted up on her elbow, ignored the pain in her ribs when she did, and leaned towards him to take a look. It was a scallop seashell, pink at the edge, radiating into white at the bottom center. She remembered seeing him holding a seashell during his first visit to the pub. Was this the same one? “A seashell?”

  “Yup.”

  “It looks like our logo. Is that why the pub’s called that?”

  “You got it.”

  “But…”

  “But what?”

  “It’s pink.”

  “So?”

  “And you carry this around with you all the time?”

  “Yes. It’s kind of my lucky talisman.”

  “Why is it lucky?”

  He held up a hand and began counting off fingers. “One, after I got it, I got my head out of my ass and started working to get better. I was already on that path, but getting this helped me speed up the process. Two, I had it when I visited the pub the first time, before I owned it, and it felt like coming home. Three, I was holding it when Low asked us to buy it together, with me running the whole thing. A lot of responsibility I wasn’t sure I was ready for, but Low was sure, and I knew I couldn’t let him down. Four, a little girl picked it out for me, and that same little girl now calls me ‘Uncle Hector’. So, now I’m also an uncle.”

  Wow. That was sweet. He could be so sweet.

  “And last, but definitely not fucking least, five, I was carrying it when I met you for the first time.”

  Double wow. Triple wow. What could she say to that? “But it’s pink,” she said stupidly again.

  He twisted to the side, then rose up on an elbow and rested his head in his hand. “What’s wrong with pink?”

  “It’s not very, uh…”

  “Manly?”

  She handed the seashell back to him. “No, it’s not.”

  He took her hand and pulled her to him. He dropped back on the bed and she fell on top of him. Shit!

  Her hand was…On. His. Chest.

  It was her cast-covered hand, but it still counted.

  Her fingertips grazed his chest. The soft skin, the coarse hair smattering his torso, and the hard muscles—so that’s what a six-pack felt like.

  Oh boy. Now, she was on sensory overload.

  “Let me ask you something, babe.”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you think of me as a man?”

  Was he crazy? “Uh, yes.”

  “Do you think of me as less of a man because I carry around a pink seashell?”

  She blinked and realized she’d been an idiot again. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m sorry I insulted you. I’m sorry I was an idiot again, and I wasn’t even a cute idiot like you say I am. Which means you didn’t smile like you usually do when I’m an idiot but instead you look like this. And you’ve been so nice to me and I don’t know how to handle that, so I’m an even bigger idiot than usual. And I’m sorry—”

  Her last word was muffled as he’d pulled her mouth up to his. Oh my.

  A real-life kiss from a real-life man in a real-life bed. His lips were surprisingly soft. It was one of the first things she’d noticed about his kisses.

  The other thing she noticed was that he took control. She never had to think about which way to move her head, or what to do with her lips…everything felt natural, but he led the way.

  Something she was more than happy with at that moment.

  He pulled back a moment later, his eyes boring into hers. “You okay, baby?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “I didn’t hurt you? Your lips are still bruised.”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  “Sorry, baby.”

  “S-sorry?” Shit, had she done something wrong?

  “It was probably too soon after what you’ve been through, but I couldn’t help it. You were being so damn cute again.”

  “I—I was?”

  “Yeah, babe. When you kept apologizing for shit you didn’t need to apologize for.”

  She licked her lips and found she liked the taste of him there. “I hurt your feelings.”

  “You didn’t, babe.”

  “But you said—”

  “I was teasing you, babe. Don’t know what kind of men you’ve been with before, but they were clearly the wrong ones if you can’t tell teasing from anger.”

  “I’m messed up,” she confessed. He’d probably figured that out, but she needed to say it.

  “I know, baby,” he said softly. “That doesn’t turn me away. It only makes me want to hold you closer.”

  Something warm and fuzzy inside burned brighter.

  Oh God.

  Oh God!

  She was falling for him.

  No, she’d already been falling for him and hadn’t even realized it.

  It had probably been happening for months.

  Months of him being kind and sweet.

  Months of him being growly and protective.

  Months of him helping her, even when she tried to push him away.

  Months of his kisses, and him finding her cute.

  Him driving after a closing shift, in pain, just to see her in the hospital.

  Him carrying her up stairs and down stairs and into cars.

  Him going with her to the nursing home.

  Him standing beside her, even with her shitty family fucking up her life and his.

  She was falling for Hector Perez.

  More like free-falling for him. Her heart plummeting farther and farther into some unending canyon of love that she couldn’t see the end of, if there was even an end at all. It was as if the entire world had dropped from under her feet, then abruptly righted again.

  She hadn’t moved, but she suddenly felt dizzy lying on the bed with him.

  While a giant ball of happiness laced with panic bloomed inside her, he seemed completely oblivious to her silent revelations.

  “Listen, babe, it’s late. Let’s go to bed, and we’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?”

  Her voice was high and tight, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Okay.”

  He pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her lips. “I’ll get the light, you settle in.”

  When she laid down, she stayed facing his side of the bed, her brain and heart still running at warp speed. She watched his wide hips turn, his strong, corded arm reach out and hit the light, then his whole body faced her. It took every inch of her willpower, but she managed to not look at his boxers and what she’d felt against her leg a minute ago.

  “Good night, baby.” He reached out in the dark for her hand, and she happily gave it.

  “Good night.” After a few moments of feeling his strong, warm hand
in the dark, she spoke again. “Hector?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  No way are you facing your dreams alone.

  Oh, yeah. She was falling for him, and fast.

  She squeezed his hand. “Thanks.” It was just one word, but it meant a lot to her. It took a lot for her to say it. She hoped he understood.

  His lips touched her fingers. “You’re welcome, baby.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Millie’s eyes blinked open. Unlike the last time she’d woken up, this time she felt warm and safe, not terrified.

  Or she didn’t until she realized her cheek was resting on Hector’s bare chest, her cast-covered arm was around his waist, and his arms were around her, too.

  Oh boy.

  Did she move? Stay still? Since she’d realized she was falling for him, she kind of wanted to stay curled up next to him.

  Then again, what if he woke up and saw her, then pushed her away? She should leave first.

  When she tried to move, however, his arms tightened around her. “Where’re you going?”

  “Just wanted some water.” Her voice was hoarse again. “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

  “Here.” He leaned over and scooched up the headboard at the same time, moving her along with him. He handed over her eyeglasses first, then picked up a full glass of water—hadn’t she drunk hers earlier?—and handed it to her.

  She sat up and drank, finally taking in everything around her. The sunlight was muted through the curtains in the room, but it was shining brightly. There was a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, and she blinked when she noticed he was wearing his prosthetics.

  She put the glass down. “You’ve got legs again.”

  He grinned.

  Damn it! “I mean…oh, you know what I mean.”

  “Fucking cute first thing in the morning, too,” he muttered. “Yeah, babe. Been up a while, but left you sleeping to take care of the morning deliveries and get breakfast started.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost noon.”

  Shit! She rushed to scramble off the bed, but Hector tugged her until she fell on him.

  She tried to push away again. “Stop doing that.”

  He frowned. “Doing what?”

  “Pulling me onto you.”

  A pause. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then what’s the problem.”

 

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