She opened the drawers to find that indeed there were several unopened toothbrushes and a tube of name-brand toothpaste. She could have insisted he let her grab her belongings from the car. She didn’t need to open a new toothbrush when she had her own right outside in the garage, but he had ignored her suggestion. So, she used the borrowed items and then the toilet. Even his toilet paper was soft and gentle.
Like his speech and his demeanor and everything else about him.
Carter Ellis was going to bring her to her knees.
Chapter 10
It took Carter an hour to stop pacing and sit on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t shut his bedroom door, just in case. He wanted to hear her if she left her room or, God forbid, the house. Though it was unlikely she would leave her car and belongings. And besides, if she opened a door or window, the alarm would go off.
Nevertheless, he struggled to relax. When he finally pulled the comforter off the bed and slid under the sheet, he closed his eyes and tried to slow his mind. He was crazy to chase this woman. She made it painfully obvious it would take a lot of hard work to break through her hard, outer shell.
She was also broken in a way he didn’t think he had the skills to fix. Someone had abused her. Perhaps an ex-boyfriend or her father. Whoever it was, they had done a fantastic job of fucking with her mind. If he met the guy, he would probably kill him with his bare hands.
No matter how irrational it was to pursue her or even befriend her, he couldn’t stop himself. He was drawn to her in a way he could not describe. And she needed help. Desperately. A place to live, for starters.
Monday morning, he could fire their cleaning company—the one that let her go—but doing so would not put her back on her feet. It was only one job. If he paid her outright to do the work, she would still need several other clients.
He cringed at the idea. Helping her get a dead-end job was not the way to go. He needed to ask her what other skills she had. How much education did she have? Maybe she could go to a temp agency and get placed somewhere in an office instead of cleaning.
Maybe she likes cleaning, asshole.
It wasn’t as if he could single-handedly hire her to work at Zodiac without checking with Rowen and Lincoln first. Plus, it was a bad precedent. Maybe there was something she could do for him at his day job. He nearly laughed trying to picture her with a hammer and nails.
Carter’s day job was in construction. There wasn’t a lot Brooke could do in the area of renovating houses. Maybe Lincoln or Rowen would have some ideas. Or even Sasha or Faith. Someone.
He had no idea why he was spending so much time trying to solve her employment problem. She could get a job on her own. She didn’t need him to interfere. In fact, she would probably resent it. But something in him squeezed off his airway when he pictured her taking crap from anyone anywhere at a job that was going nowhere.
Was she sleeping? He glanced at his open doorway. She hadn’t made a single noise since she’d finished in the bathroom and shut the door to his guest room with a soft snick.
Picturing her wearing nothing but his T-shirt made him fight a groan. It was his own fault for handing her the soft cotton shirt in the first place. If he’d let her grab some belongings from her car, he wouldn’t be reaching down to adjust his cock right now. But some part of him hadn’t wanted to return to the garage and fully face what comprised her entire worldly possessions, so he’d insisted she borrow his things tonight. Besides, he liked the idea of knowing she spent the night wearing one of his T-shirts.
It was horrifyingly wrong of him to sport a hard-on for the broken woman across the hall who had given him no indication she was interested in him, and in fact had deflected every small advance he’d ever made.
He couldn’t help being attracted to her, though. It was out of his control. Those damn curls… Had she taken the braid out before she went to bed? He visualized her tossing and turning, her slender body rubbing against his shirt and the sheets.
None of those visions helped a bit, and before he knew it, he had his hand inside his boxers, jerking his cock up and down. He gritted his teeth to keep from moaning while he pictured his muse across the hall. It wasn’t a hardship. Her full pink lips… Her green eyes… Her dainty hands… He imagined her palm and thin fingers wrapped around his cock and bucked up into his grip.
In fewer strokes than reasonable, he came, every wave of his orgasm making his body jerk until he was gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling. Damn, he was fucked. There was no way he could avoid pursuing this woman, and she was probably going to disregard the chemistry between them.
After he caught his breath, he headed to the bathroom, cleaned up, and then flopped back down on his bed. It was going to be a long night.
Brooke woke up slowly, her first thought was that she had slept hard. Her second thought was that the room was too bright. She bolted to sitting, chest pounding, afraid she had overslept and was late to work.
It took her several seconds to realize where she was, and then she panicked.
There were noises somewhere in the house, which meant Carter was also up. She had no idea what time it was. As she slid from the bed—the best bed she’d ever slept on in her life—she glanced down at her rumpled clothes. Her shoes were on the floor next to the bed, but she was still wearing yesterday’s clothes.
Carter had lost his mind if he thought she would put on nothing but one of his T-shirts and sleep nearly naked in his house. God, no. It would never happen. She had no idea why he’d insisted she use his things instead of her own, but in retrospect it was for the best. It would make things easier this morning when she only needed to retrieve her keys from him before she fled.
After slipping her black flats on her feet, she ran her fingers through her messy hair and headed for the door. She needed to get out of this house fast. Staying with Carter even one night had been a horrible idea. She didn’t want to be beholden to him or anyone. It was a slippery slope.
When she opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, she nearly slammed into a pile of boxes. Heart pounding, she spun around to find several boxes on both sides of the doorway. Her boxes. Her stuff. The rest of her belongings were also gathered in piles on top of the boxes.
Oh, God. Oh, no. No no no no no. She rushed down the hallway toward the family room and then moved through it to get to the kitchen.
Carter was sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, sipping from a mug, and staring at a laptop. He lifted his face and smiled. “Hey, sleepy.”
She ignored his good mood and pointed behind her. “Why is my stuff in the hallway?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you by bringing it into your room. I’m surprised you slept through me getting it that far. I tried to be as quiet as possible. There are bags under your eyes. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”
She stared past him, catching his movements in her peripheral vision. I’ve never had a good night’s sleep. Shaking that thought from her head, she continued. “Carter, I can’t stay here. You shouldn’t have done that. You didn’t have permission to touch my things.”
He sobered and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I knew you would say that. That’s why I didn’t ask permission.” He slid off the stool and turned his back to her, heading across the kitchen toward the counter. “Coffee?”
She didn’t respond. Fisting her hands at her sides, she tried not to scream. Rarely in her life had she let her voice rise above a whisper. Mostly because she wouldn’t risk making someone mad. That never boded well.
She kept her feelings contained, as usual. But inside, she was boiling over. How dare he?
He glanced over his shoulder. “You didn’t answer me. Coffee?”
“No, Carter, I don’t want coffee. I’d like my keys, please. I need to leave.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he preceded to fill his mug and then returned to set it on the island. After settling back on the stool, he set his chin on his palm and stared at her.
&
nbsp; She didn’t move. She had no idea what to say or do next.
“You’re not leaving, so stop asking. You’re staying here while you get back on your feet. We can discuss your options later, but first you need to eat. When was the last time you had a full meal?”
She glanced at the floor, still fuming, trying to contain herself. How defiant could she be with him while he ordered her around before she made him mad enough to hit her? Maybe it would be best to completely push him to that point now and get it over with. Then she could prove her point, pat herself on the back, and get out of his house.
“Do you like eggs? Scrambled? Fried? Boiled?”
She still didn’t move. Her stomach grumbled loud enough for him to hear it, though.
“Bacon or sausage? Pancakes or toast? Give me something to work with here, Brooke.”
She swallowed, a tear sliding down her face unbidden. Why did he have to be so nice? Why did he have to be so attractive? His blond hair was slicked back from a shower, the top already slightly mussed. His jeans fit him perfectly, giving her a splendid view of his butt when he’d stood at the counter before. He also had on a worn green shirt with ARMY written on the front. She had no idea if he was in the military, but she suspected he had been at some point.
She didn’t want to reach up and wipe the tear from her cheek, hoping not to draw attention to it. She didn’t even know where it came from. No man had ever been this nice to her. Not without expecting something in return. Heck, no human had ever been this nice to her. Except Faith.
The stool scraped the tile floor, indicating he was on his feet again. Seconds later, he was right in front of her. He slowly cupped her face with his palm as if he thought she might break—or lash out at him. And frankly, she had no idea why she didn’t. On both counts.
When the pad of his thumb brushed away her tear, another fell in its place. His voice was whisper soft. “You’re a conundrum. So fragile and so strong at the same time. I actually believe you could walk out my door, sleep in your car for a few nights while hitting the pavement hard, and find a job.
“I believe you could do it. You’ve got a deep inner strength even you aren’t aware of.” He held her face with his entire palm but didn’t force her to lift her gaze from his enormous, rock-hard chest. “But here’s the thing: You don’t have to. You got lucky. You found a safe place to fall. Maybe fate put you in my path last night. Think of it that way. It’s not safe to sleep in your car. It’s safe here in my house.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips and spoke to his chest. “I can’t repay you.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“I like to do things on my own.”
“I know you do, baby.”
It tugged at her heart when he called her baby. Infuriating her. She jerked free, backing up a few steps. “Stop. Stop being nice to me. Stop trying to fix things. I don’t need your help.” She needed to push him. It was the right thing to do.
She needed to prove to herself that he was just like any other man. Not to be trusted. Violent. Angry. She kept going. “I’m not your slave. You can’t make me stay here.” She forced her gaze to a random spot across the room instead of continuing to look at his chest, the T-shirt pulled so tight across his pecs the entire definition was evident.
He remained several feet in front of her, his stance loose.
She let her voice rise to an uncharacteristic decibel. “I want my keys. I want to leave. You can keep my stuff. It’s all junk anyway. I just want to leave.”
He slowly crossed his arms, but she didn’t dare look at his face to catch his expression.
She kept going. “I’m not going to sleep with you. So if that’s what you had in mind, forget it. You’ll have to rape me if that’s your intention. But if you don’t give me my keys, I’m going to walk out the door on foot.”
Still no reaction.
Tears fell down her face in earnest now. She was rambling stupid stuff that made no sense. “I’ll call the police. Tell them you’re holding me hostage. Tell them you hit me. I’ll tell them you assaulted me.” There. That would piss any man off. The threat of accusing him of something he didn’t do.
He stepped forward.
Then she made the mistake of lifting her gaze to meet his, needing to see his expression. Needing to see his furious face and watch as he lost his temper. But that wasn’t what met her gaze.
Shocking her entirely, she saw nothing but concern and sorrow. Not pity. Just sadness. He inched closer, closing the gap until he stood in her space and lifted both hands to cup her cheeks. He wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs, so many tears she hadn’t even realized she’d shed.
He said nothing, just held her gaze until her body shook with uncontrolled emotions and she nearly collapsed. When her knees buckled, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her into his chest.
She buried her face against his shirt, the soft cotton the only barrier between her cheek and his heat. And then she cried. Not soft sobbing. Loud, obnoxious, ugly weeping. Years of pent-up frustration rushing out of her.
She couldn’t stop it. It kept coming. Her body shook violently.
He scooped her up, turned them around, and stepped into the living room to sit on the sofa, nestling her in his lap.
She cried into his shoulder and neck, soaking his shirt while she lifted her arm to fist the front of it against his chest.
He held her tighter, drawing circles on her arm with his fingers. His lips landed on her ear and he whispered close, “I’ve got you. Let it out. You’re going to be okay.”
Carter was wrong. She was never going to be okay. She was born broken. She would never be fixed. There was nothing in the world that could fix someone like her. It was too late. She was not good. She didn’t deserve comfort.
And yet, if anyone could fix her, it would be Carter. There was no doubt the man had willpower. Eventually, he leaned to one side and reached out with his hand to grab something. A moment later, he held a pile of tissues in front of her.
She took them, more tears falling at his kindness. She pushed away from him a few inches to wipe her face and blow her nose. “Stop being nice to me.”
He sighed.
Lifting her gaze to meet his eyes again, she became aware of his hard body. He was hard everywhere. Even his thighs were hard. And she wasn’t about to ponder the hard length of him pressing into her leg. To shake that image from her mind, she blurted out the most absurd thought. “Do you work out ten hours a day?”
He smiled. “No. But I work out a lot. I enjoy it. The adrenaline rush invigorates me. A long hard run or an hour of tough weight training rejuvenates me.”
She shuddered. “Freak.” She’d rather be beaten bloody than forced to run or lift weights. She shivered again. That thought was far too close to the truth than she wanted to admit.
He laughed. “I’ve been called worse.”
“You aren’t going to let me leave.”
“No. But,” his face sobered, his eyes drawing closer together, “let me set you straight on a few things.”
She tucked her lips in between her teeth.
“I can’t imagine what the ever-loving fuck has happened to you to make you so distrustful, and I’ll let you tell me on your own time when you’re ready, but I’m not your enemy. I didn’t do any of those things. And I never will. I realize you were spewing all the venom to get a rise out of me. Testing me. But it won’t work.”
She flushed. How had he figured that out? “What are you? A psychiatrist?”
He smiled. “No, but you’re transparent sometimes. You’re hurting. You think you want to be left alone. You don’t know how to accept help. Get over it. I’m not holding you hostage. You’re not my slave. Even though I’m part owner of Zodiac, I’m not a sadist, so I won’t be hitting you either. But most importantly, I’m not going to sleep with you without your permission.
“So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t accuse me of any of the above again. Eventually it will tarnish our re
lationship.”
“We have a relationship?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He smiled wider. “Of course. It’s a weird wobbly one, but I think we made headway this morning. Now, what do you like to eat for breakfast?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
Instead of flinching in shock or questioning her weird answer, he took it in stride. “Then I’ll pick something today and something else tomorrow, and you’ll have every breakfast food known to man over the next few weeks until you know what your favorite is.”
“You’re going to cook for me?” For weeks?
“Yep.” He surprised her when he wrapped his arms around her and pushed to standing as if it required no effort at all. He lowered her to her feet and steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. His expression grew serious again. “You need to eat. You’re so frail.”
He was right. She knew she was too skinny. But it was intentional. It kept men from finding her attractive and giving her a second glance.
On the flip side, it had not worked on Carter.
Her cheeks burned at the thought. She was still standing so close that he was touching her in about eleven different places. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had so caringly held her.
Chapter 11
“Carter…” Her voice caught in her throat. Something was happening to her. It scared her to death. Parts of her body that had never been alive came to life. She wanted to lean into him and ride the foreign feeling. She didn’t dare, but she wanted to.
He leaned down, kissed her forehead, and then brushed his nose across hers. “Food. Then we’ll talk.”
He slid one hand into hers, threaded their fingers, and led her to the kitchen.
Collaring Brooke (Club Zodiac Book 3) Page 9
