Page 10 of Hooked on Marshall (Hooked #9)

After I kiss her forehead, she breathes my name.

My heart clenches in my chest. And my cock thickens once again. I sigh and brush my fingers over her cheek before turning off the beside lamp and leaving the room.

What I need is a cold shower. While I was already attracted to her physical appearance, getting her out of her work clothes and into one of my old t-shirts only compounded that attraction.

And added to my mental list of things I want to do to her.

With her. For her. To make her come and scream my name .

Not Jonas’.

I scrub my hand over my face and bite back a growl of frustration.

I have absolutely no claim to this woman.

At all. And while I had my suspicions that it was a man who was giving her trouble, seeing proof of that when she left her message thread open after setting her phone on the hospital bed damn near sent me into a fit of rage.

Jonas.

And old flame of some sort based on his desire to reconnect with her.

Not that I can blame him, but if his contact with her now is what’s causing her pain, then I hope she rebuffs him.

What’s more, I’d love nothing more than to become a part of her life so I can be the one to handle him.

A smile lights my face at the thought. While I’m not a physical person by nature, running a bar does require some basic knowledge of how to defend yourself and handle others when necessary.

Like tonight.

“Shit.”

The memory of that fucktard carrying Lana off to do God-knows-what with her is something that I won’t soon forget.

No matter how much I wish I could. Frustrated again and knowing I won’t sleep anytime soon, I head to the kitchen in my small house and pour myself some whiskey.

At first, I stand on my back deck while I sip it.

Enjoying the cool fall air and the rustle of the trees in the breeze.

Eventually, though, I end up in the doorway of my spare bedroom.

Watching Lana sleep.

She’s supposed to work tomorrow, but I already asked Jace to call someone in to cover for her. I don’t want her on her feet all day. Not after working a double today and ending up in the hospital with injuries. Thank God they were minor.

Sometime past one in the morning, I wash up and crawl into bed after making sure everything is locked up.

My sleep is restless at best. I’m up before seven, but Lana looks to still be sleeping peacefully.

Wanting, no, needing to do more for her, I decide to make some breakfast. Then I curse when I realize I have no food because I just moved in on Friday.

I stew for a few minutes before I remember that another high school friend of mine owns a small diner a few blocks away.

I search it up and make a call to see if they deliver.

Luckily, Thomas is the one that answers.

“Hey, man,” I say. “Marshall Jones.”

“Marshall,” he laughs. “I hear your back in town.”

“That I am,” I tell him. “And I hate to do this so soon, but I need a favor.”

“Name it.”

I sigh in relief and explain what happened with Lana last night.

Then I ask for two of their best breakfast platters.

He tells me its no trouble at all, and he’ll deliver them personally within a half an hour.

I promise to return the favor sometime and he tells me not to worry about it.

While I wait, I go about making some coffee.

It’s one of the few things I brought with me from my apartment in the city that’s actually consumable.

I’m pacing my kitchen while I wait for it to brew. Then I’m rooted to the floor when I turn and find Lana in the doorway. Wrapped in the blanket I pulled over her last night. Her bare feet and legs peaking out from beneath. She looks fucking perfect.

“Hey,” I breathe. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Well enough,” she nods. “But I’m a little sore and I have a headache.”

“Then get comfortable in the living room and I’ll get your pills for you.”

I start to gesture her in that direction, but she holds up a hand to stop me.

“What?”

“I…ah…do you have some other clothes I can put on?”

“Shit,” I hiss. “Yeah, sure. I’ll bring them to you in the spare bedroom. Just give me a minute.”

She nods and makes her way back to where she slept last night.

I follow after her and then head into the master bedroom to grab her a pair of sweatpants and some socks.

As an afterthought, I also grab a sweatshirt in case she’s cold.

While I don’t think it’s too cold in here, the memory of her shivering last night makes me want to err on the side of caution.

When I get back to the spare bedroom, she’s seated on the bed, the blanket still tightly wrapped around her.

She keeps her eyes downcast as I set them beside her.

“Take your time,” I tell her. “But breakfast should be arriving soon.”

“Thank you.”

She doesn’t look up and I try not to let it bother me.

I just shut her in the room and go about making myself a cup of coffee and pouring a glass of water so she can take her meds.

After a few minutes, I hear her move into the bathroom.

I’m leaning against the counter when she finally appears.

Her hands are clasped in front of her as her gaze travels around the kitchen.

Landing on everything but me. I breathe deep, loving how she looks in my clothing, and do what I can to set her at ease.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Black.”

“Okay,” I nod. “I got you a glass of water so you can take your meds.”

“Thank you.”

She walks over to the counter where the glass and the prescription bottle are sitting. When she takes the bottle, I notice that her hands are shaking. And I hate the thought of her being nervous around me.

“Lana?” I ask.

“Yeah?”

“Do I make you nervous?”

A soft gasp leaves her, and she drops the bottle. It rolls off the counter and onto the floor. I smile and pick it up.

“Thankfully it wasn’t open yet, yeah?”

She nods but stays quiet. After I set the bottle back on the counter, I chance a look at her. Her arms are folded across her stomach, and she’s backed up against the door jamb. And I hate the distance between us.

“Lana, there’s no need to be uncomfortable,” I tell her. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I don’t want to make things worse.”

“You’re my boss,” she says quietly. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“I own an alehouse,” I laugh. “It’s not like I need to have rules about employees fraternizing.”

Her eyes widen at my words. Then she bolts from the kitchen.