Chapter 20

Her heart cracked right in two and her eyes filled. Just like that. "Yes."

Concern wrinkled his brow. "Don't do that. Please." He brushed his thumb across her cheek as if to check for wetness, then her lower lip. "You are exhausted, aren't you?"

She nodded, her chest aching. In all her years, no one but her brother Brian had ever been so unerringly protective, gentle, or charismatically honest with her. "I've never been carried to bed before." She grinned to free the lines of worry from his face. "That was pretty badass, X."

He grunted, but a smile followed, melting everything but contentment from his face. "Never done it before, either." With an arm around her back, he slid her across the sheets and flush against him. "Listen to me this time, would you? Go to sleep."

After a second, he tugged the blankets around them and resettled. Burying her face in his neck, she breathed him in and the last of her tension dissolved. He rubbed soothing circles over her back and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

She woke up nine hours later in exactly the same position, with Xavier wrapped around her like a shield and one thigh wedged between hers. And she really had to pee.

His deep, even breathing indicated he was still sleeping, so she eased away a fraction and gave herself a moment to watch him. It was surreal, being here with him. Part of her thought it was strange, cozied up to her boss in the most intimate of ways. She'd worked with him day in and day out for what felt like way longer than a couple years. Heck, it was weird just seeing him out of a suit. But another part of her connected to him. A silent cry she'd long ago ignored to find a tether to someone again. In truth, Xavier was a lot of the things she'd wanted in a partner.

He carried around so much tension at work, sometimes outside the office, but his features were adorably relaxed while asleep. Lips parted, he emitted almost no sound. His dark, thick lashes gave him a childlike appearance, until she dipped her gaze to the shadow of whiskers on his jaw. She followed the path to the corded tendons on his neck and wanted to suck that spot until he groaned like he'd done last night.

Her bladder couldn't wait, though.

Carefully, she extracted herself from his hold and slipped from bed. She tiptoed to the bathroom, relieved herself, brushed her teeth, and exited back into his bedroom. He was still zonked out, and she didn't have the heart to wake him.

A glance down at herself showed she was pretty well covered with his shirt if the staff were around, but she dug through a dresser until she found another set of pajama bottoms. They were several inches too long and she had to roll the waist to get them to stay up, but they'd do. She grabbed her purse and headed out.

Once downstairs, she glanced around, putting her purse on the entry table. If the staff was here, they were quiet. She checked her cell for messages and found none.

The base of the staircase opened into a foyer and an expansive living room teeming with mahogany ceiling beams and buttercream walls. He tended to favor oil paintings of the ocean or vineyards, and the art on the wall portrayed that. His furniture was red, classic-lined, and fuss-free. The floor-to-rafters fireplace was her favorite part of the house and was made from aged fieldstone with a decorative mantle.

She poked her head in the library and found no one. This room was small, but the shelves were stocked to the hilt. Leather chairs and a desk took up the remainder of the space. Also empty were the home gym and his mancave den, where he had a pool table and a TV large enough for an epic center. Video games and controllers littered the shelf underneath, and the furniture was much more lived in than elsewhere, proving he spent most of his time there.

God, the house was just too enormous for one person. She thought about him here in a big old empty house alone, and wondered if he got as lonely as she often did in her tiny apartment. He'd never discussed starting a family of his own, but he had to want marriage and kids, right? He adored his parents and she couldn't imagine him not wanting to carry on the name.

Needing coffee more than air, she made her way to the kitchen and found Xavier's butler, Sam, at the table doing a crossword. "Sam I Am, it's good to see you."

He smiled at her nickname, set the pen down, and rose. His gray suit was neatly pressed. "Miss Peyton, you're awake. I was beginning to worry."

She glanced at the clock and noted it was almost ten. "Wow. It is late. I was so tired." She gestured at her clothes. "And this isn't a walk of shame. I only slept here."

He chuckled, the lines around his dark eyes deepening. "It's not my business."

"Uh-huh. Can I grab coffee? I might turn into a harpy if you say no."

Another chuckle. "Of course, let me get it for you."

"No, no. You sit. I'll pour." She filled a cup for herself and topped off his at the table.

Xavier didn't have a cook on staff, so she rummaged in the massive pantry and the cupboards for breakfast fixings. She loved his kitchen. Open and airy, it had a huge window over the sink to his backyard. The long, rectangular space was split by an island. Granite countertops, chipped white cabinets, and sandstone tile.

"Please, Miss Peyton. Let me fix you something."

"No way. I love to cook and never get to do it at home." She shot a grin over her shoulder. "How's that grandbaby of yours? Is she walking yet?"

"Oh yes. A terror, that one. Like her mama." His chair scraped the floor as he sat.

She laughed as she chopped melon. "You'll have to show me a recent picture when I'm done here. I haven't seen one in months."

Cantaloupe cut, she moved onto mixing batter for muffins. She added fresh blueberries from the fridge, folded them in, and poured batter into baking cups. Once they were in the oven, she grabbed another refill of coffee and took a seat by Sam.

She cooed over a picture of his granddaughter, round brown cheeks and wild black hair, and a pang of longing hit her square in the womb. "She's so precious."

"That she is." He put the photo back in his wallet and returned to his crossword puzzle.

When the muffins were done, she transferred them to a cooling rack by the bowl of melon and helped Sam with his puzzle. They were just into the twentieth hint when Xavier walked in, hair standing on end and wearing PJs. He halted over the threshold and looked around as if royally confused.

Shoot. Had he expected her to leave? Her car wasn't here, but Archie would've driven her home. Except, they were supposed to go over the press conference notes.

Sam rose and handed him coffee. "Morning, sir."

Xavier absently took the cup. "Morning." He eyed the island, then Peyton, still not seemingly orientated. "Are those blueberry muffins? Those are my favorite." His deep, sleep-roughened voice had her clenching her thighs.

"Imagine that." She did place orders at the caterer for his business meetings. She knew a thing or two.

He glanced at her clothes andfrowned. "Sam, give us a minute, please."

"Of course, sir."

When the butler left, Xavier's gaze slid over her again. "I never sleep in."

Nerves pinged in her belly. She was getting the distinct impression he was uncomfortable with her here and wanted her gone. "We had a late night."

He stared at her, his expression unreadable. "You weren't in bed when I woke." He rubbed his neck. "I don't ever sleep with women. In my own bed, I mean."

Okay, she was out of here. Before things got even more epically uncomfortable and it affected work, she rose and put her cup in the sink. Gone was the gentle, sweet man from last night, and in his place was the cool front he used with strangers.

Disappointment clamped her throat, and she bit her tongue to stave off tears. Humiliated, she took a cleansing breath before turning around. "Please ask Archie if he can take me home. I just need to get my dress and shoes from upstairs."

"Wait." He grabbed her arm and set the coffee on a nearby counter. "Why are you leaving?"

Keeping her mouth shut, she stared at his chest, unable to meet his eyes. She'd been vulnerable with him last night, and shame mingled with devastation. She'd thought perhaps they were beginning something together. But no, that was just her, clinging to a bit of affection since it had been so long since she'd had any.

God. "I'll wash your clothes and bring them to the office tomorrow." Her voice broke and she could only pray he hadn't noticed. She might die if he made her change back into the dress before going.

Extracting her arm from his grasp, she quickly walked out and made haste through the living room. If Archie wasn't waiting with the car when she got back down, she'd hoof it home. It was, like, fifteen miles, but whatever.

Xavier shot in front of her before she could round the banister and halted her retreat at the base of the stairs. "Please, stop." He growled in frustration as she tried to move around him and put his hands on her shoulders. "Juststop."

Hanging his head, he let go of her and ran his hands through his hair. "I really shouldn't speak until I'm fully caffeinated, but I obviously said something to upset you. Let's backtrack. I just woke up from the soundest sleep of my life, after six a.m., mind you, which has rarely happened. I never have overnight guests, certainly not ones who share my bed, yet the first thing I noticed was you weren't in it. I get downstairs to find my favorite muffins and you looking goddamn adorable in my clothes. Does that cover it?"

Too stunned to move or respond or dare breathe, she blinked at him. Sohe didn't want her to leave?

Letting out a long-winded breath, he straightened. Scratched his jaw. Searched her gaze. "Shit. That doesn't cover it." Cupping the back of her neck, he hauled her against him and kissed her.