“Hard to be a mom when you’re stoned or drunk most of your life,” she said bitterly.
Whoops. She glanced up at him, to find only sympathy and understanding in his eyes. “I’m real proud of you for the way you looked out for them.”
He was?
Warmth filled her. Nobody had ever told her they were proud of her before. And to hear it coming from Jed meant a lot.
She yawned and his eyes grew even softer. Damn, she liked that. Also liked the way he called her babe. With a touch of affection in his voice. She didn’t know what had happened between the other night and now. And she wasn’t going to risk it by asking too many questions.
“You’re tired.” He reached for her coat, quickly undoing it and hanging it in the closet as though he’d done it a hundred times before.
“Are you hungry? You didn’t eat any dinner.” He glanced down at his watch. “After eleven now.”
“He had to finish watching a game,” she told him. “That’s why we couldn’t meet until later.”
A disgusted look crossed his face. “Seriously? That guy was a dickhead. What kind of man puts his own desires before a woman?”
Most men, she figured. But she didn’t say that either.
He took hold of her hand and led her into the kitchen. As though this wasn’t her house and she didn’t know where she was going. Maybe that should have annoyed her. But she kind of liked it. She liked the caring feeling to it. When he reached the small kitchen, he turned and picked her up, placing her on one of the kitchen stools.
“Right, babe. What do you feel like eating?”
Before she could stop him, he opened the
fridge door.
Silence. Frown lines developed on his forehead, making him even more gorgeous if that was possible. Boy, her body couldn’t handle it if he got too much sexier. She might just self-combust.
“I’m really not hungry,” she told him. “Maybe I should just. . .”
She went to slide off her stool when he turned to scowl at her. “Sit right there.”
Well, crap. He was using a new voice. An I-mean-business voice. She wasn’t sure she liked it.
Don’t kid yourself, you like it. You lap his dominant side up like a cat with a bowl of cream. With a big, fat smile on your face.
He walked over to the pantry, nearly pulled the doors off their hinges. She had to bite back a protest, figuring she shouldn’t waste her breath. Her tummy tightened into a knot.
“Daisy,” he spoke in a very low voice. Hmm, she didn’t think that was a good sign. She looked over at the door, judging whether she could reach it before he caught her.
“Yes?” She shifted her gaze back to find him staring straight at her. She froze, caught. His eyes were a deep hazel-green normally, but right now she didn’t even notice the color, she was intent on the emotion.
He did not look happy.
“Where is your food?”
“It’s in there. And there’s some in the fridge.”
“There’s milk in the fridge.”
“There’s also butter. And some bread in the freezer.”
His eyebrows rose. “Bread in the freezer?”
She shrugged. “I’m one person. I can’t eat a whole loaf before it gets all moldy so I keep it in the freezer.”
He stalked back to the freezer. “That’s all there is in here. And there is nothing in your pantry.”