Page 28 of New Nebraska Heat

“That sounds perfect, Serenity.”

“Perfect, Hunter.” I rested my head on his shoulder, rubbing my cheek against its solid strength.

Serenity

Hunter turned his back as I changed for bed.

When I let out a quiet “okay,” he turned back around, taking in my tousled hair, rumpled sleep shorts and tank.

He suppressed a growl, his bare chest vibrating as we stared at each other. We’d both barely spoken a word since our kiss. But there was no awkwardness. There was an ease and comfort to our companionship. Like we didn’t need words to know what the other was thinking.

And I would never get enough of looking at his body. Standing there in his slim-fit boxer shorts, his form brought to mind the powerful likenesses of Zeus or Achilles I’d seen when studying art.

Except Hunter outdid them all. His body, as if masterfully carved from some exotic hardwood, rippled with power, every part of his muscular physique in perfect definition. His dark skin only added to the beauty.

As I slipped between the sheets, he crawled into bed on the other side and laid down next to me. I slid over to my side, facingaway from him. Because I wanted to be held in the same way he’d done the night before.

He instantly knew what would make me feel comfortable. He curled his warmth around me, wrapping his huge bicep around my waist and tucking his legs behind mine. I could get used to this casual dating thing.

Carrot hopped up on the bed with a little yowl, like she thought we were going to sleep without her.

Hunter chuckled, petted her softly before she settled near our feet, then brushed his lips against my hair and whispered, “Night, Little Dancer.”

And the next thing I knew I was waking up to the alarm I’d set on my phone, no nightmares or bad memories. Just a restful sleep.

Hunter was still slumbering, breathing softly behind me. When I rolled around to look at him, he stirred and slowly woke up, his face changing from relaxed to contented, as if he’d slept even better than I had.

Two hours later, I arrived at Midas, full of a breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon Hunter had whipped up for us. Brimming with nervous excitement, I filled out the new employee paperwork, sitting in the waiting area outside Bryce’s office.

His secretary, a very attractive middle-aged Fae, sat across the room from me at her desk. I hadn’t learned her name at my interview, and she hadn’t introduced herself this morning. But another assistant had called her Darlene when he’d dropped off a file.

As I finished the paperwork and fiddled with the neck of my sweater, she smirked. “I know you’re young, but here at Midas, we project a certain image.” Darlene motioned to her own beautifully tailored dress then smoothed a strand of shiny hair behind her pointed Fae ear.

Fae were rare in New Nebraska, but they always had a polished and sophisticated look to them. I still had no idea how to respondthough. Believe me, buying some nicer clothes was top of my list. When I could afford them.

“I can recommend a store.” The words sounded helpful, but her tone was cold. “You should cover those marks too.” She frowned at my legs. “After all—”

Bryce strode through the waiting room’s frosted glass doors in a razor-sharp navy suit, immaculately pressed white shirt and maroon tie.

His eyes went to me and he kept walking until he stopped just a foot from where I sat, sending wisps of citrus and spice my way.

His familiar scent calmed my nerves. Seeing his bright smile did the same. He seemed pleased at whatever he saw or was thinking about as he looked at me. He continued flashing me such a wide, happy smile as silence filled the large waiting area. And I reminded myself Bryce hadn’t hired me for my looks and didn’t seem to care about my scars.

“Shouldn’t you back up, Mr. Harding?” Darlene said in a cringey, familiar voice, causing Bryce to stiffen and turn toward her. “We wouldn’t want Ms. Dawson to accidentally touch you.”

A flash of sadness passed over his face as Bryce took a small step away. “Yes, you’re quite right. We should minimize the risks.”

Darlene smiled smugly at me then addressed Bryce, “I was just finishing Ms. Dawson’s paperwork. May I get you something? An espresso? Something from the deli?”

“Hmm.” Bryce considered it. This time as he glanced at me, he schooled his features. “What do you say, Ms. Dawson? Some coffee? Something to eat?”

“Just coffee would be great. Thank you, Bry—Mr. Harding.”

“Of course.” He looked back to Darlene who was staring at me with an iron gaze after my slip up. “A cappuccino for us both, please.” He ordered what he knew was my favorite at Hunter’s loft. “And a breakfast panini for me. Also one of those blueberry scones—one of us will finish it.”

“I’m not sure if you have time for a breakfast meeting this morningandgoing to the news station. Maybe you should send Ms. Dawson with Roman to the station? I’m sure he’d be happy to give her the full tour.” She reached for the phone.

“I know my schedule. Leave it to me. Thanks, Darlene.” He turned his back to her and gave me a discreet wink.