Page 51 of Beautiful Crazy
Her brows scrunch. “What?”
“I’ll brush it for you,” I tell her. “Hand me the brush.”
“Everett, you don’t?—”
“Brush, Gemma.”
Lips pursed, she grabs it off the counter and hands it to me. “Thank you,” she murmurs softly, meeting my gaze through the mirror still as I begin running the bristles through the tangly, wet strands as gently as I can.
“Your meds are on your dresser.” The sweet floral scent of her shampoo fills my senses, and it smells so damn good. All I want to do is bury my nose against her scalp and breathe her in all day. “It looks like they included a cream for your hives too. That should help.”
Little droplets fall down her back from her hair the longer I brush, and I’m nearly done as I look over her shoulder at the woman staring back at me in the mirror. Face clear of any makeup, freckles kissing the apples of her cheeks, and even a little color has come back to her since last night. She’s in a ribbed tank top and shorts pajama set, the olive color of the material pairing beautifully with her skin tone. Her nipples pebble against the cotton, and I can’t help but remember how those nipples felt against my tongue. How sexy her tits looked from above as I was between her legs, tasting her slick pussy.
The memory sends heat and arousal straight to my balls, and I know the last thing I should be doing while I’mstanding behind her is get hard, but I’m only human and Gemma is the epitome of sexy, even though I’m sure she feels the furthest thing from that right now.
If only she knew how wrong she was if that’s the case.
Once I’m finished, I set the hairbrush on the counter beside her as she turns around and peers up at me. A moment passes between us that has the hair on my arms standing on end. I reach up and cup her cheek. “You’re so beautiful, Gemma.” The words come out hoarse, the honesty woven between them filling the space around us with tension.
Eyelashes fluttering, she lets her gaze drop before meeting mine again. “Thank you,” she breathes.
Leaning in, I brush my lips against her forehead. “You don’t need to thank me,” I husk. “It’s the truth.”
She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to.
We exit the bathroom, and I stay over for another few hours, hanging out with her and Sutton, eventually making the three of us lunch. Throughout the day, Gemma and I keep finding each other’s gaze, and each time, it’s like a shot of adrenaline to my system.
It gives me goosebumps.
She gives me goosebumps.
Twenty-One
Everett
“Can I help?” Sutton asks as he steps up to the counter, peeking into the pot on the stove.
“Sure, buddy. Want to get the milk and butter out of the fridge?”
It’s been a couple of days since Gemma came home from the hospital, and while I know she’s feeling much better and back to normal, I’ve still been coming over to help where I can. Am I looking for any excuse to be around her and Sutton? Yes, but so what?
Hence why I’m making a very gourmet dinner of hot dogs and mac and cheese for the three of us while Gemma works on her laptop on the porch. The entire scenario we’ve got going tonight feels very domesticated, and I’m thoroughly enjoying it.
Since we go to the same place in the morning, I’ve driven Sutton to and from school every day this week to make things a little easier on Gemma, and I went with himto his baseball practice yesterday. I’ve always loved being around kids; it’s why I became a teacher, but it’s different with him in a way I can’t pinpoint.
“What next?” Sutton asks, placing the gallon jug of milk on the counter next to the butter container.
“Once I drain the water, which I’m going to do right now,” I explain as I take the pot over to the strainer in the sink, “then we can put in the milk and butter, mix it all, then add in the cheese sauce. Can you check the box, see how much milk and butter is needed, and then double that amount since we used two boxes?”
“Sure!”
As I’m transferring the noodles back into the pot, Gemma walks into the kitchen, sunglasses resting on the top of her head as she looks between the two of us. “Well, what’s going on here?”
“Mom, Everett is letting me help make dinner!”
A smile tips her lips. “That’s nice of him, isn’t it?”
“Yeah!”