Free Corrupting Cinderella by Autumn Jones Lake Page B

to have someone worry about me.
    I’ll never admit it, but his concern was valid. It was weird that the woman wasn’t home. Replaying our conversation in my head makes me realize something about the situation had been off from the beginning. What if Rock hadn’t shown up and someone else with less than honorable intentions had? Would I have warded them off with my legal pad? Frightened them with the threat of a thousand paper cuts?
    Wary of Rock’s stiff posture, I don’t bother with small talk. I grab the helmet he hands me and get on the bike. He takes us to a quiet Chinese restaurant we’ve both become fond of, and we grab a table in the back. As we settle next to each other in the curved booth, a thought that reignites my irritation enters my mind.
    “You know, it’s kind of unfair for you to be so hard on me, when you’re always out doing who knows what for the club without telling me.”
    Rock’s stiff jaw tells me maybe it would have been wise to keep that thought to myself.
    “That so?” he asks low and deadly.
    I straighten up and pin him with a stare. “Yes.”
    The way he stares right back with no hint of the usual amusement on his face tells me how serious his next words will be. “Well, baby doll, I’m a rather big guy who knows how to handle himself, and I’m rarely unarmed. Not a tiny woman with nothing but her briefcase. Besides, on club business I’m usually not alone. I have Wrath or Z for backup. Would you like me to assign one of the prospects to be with you at all times? Because I’ll be happy to arrange that.”
    See, I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.
    “Very funny.”
    “Do I look like I’m joking?”
    “I’m not tiny.”
    Finally a glimmer of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “You are compared to me.”
    I sigh. “This is hard for me, Rock. I told you how my father died when I was a teenager?”
    His face relaxes a little more, and he squeezes my hand under the table. “Yeah.”
    “Well, my mother kind of fell apart after that. She never held a steady job to begin with, so finding work was next to impossible. We lost our house, then had to move from apartment to apartment. I’ve been basically taking care of myself since I was thirteen. So as much as I appreciate you wanting to look after me, it’s hard for me to accept.”
    “I need to, Hope.” He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger and forces me to meet his gaze. “Understand where I’m coming from. A real man looks after his woman.”
    Oh, damn.
    The look in his eyes goes distant. “I get it. My father drowned himself in booze and whoring after my mother died. Before that, though, she was the center of his world. I always told myself when I found the right woman, I’d be the kind of man he’d been before she died. Not what he turned into later.”
    “Okay,” I whisper. Because honestly, what else can I say to that?
    “Thank you, baby doll. I’ll try not to overdo it.”
    I guess that’s as much of a concession as I’m going to get.
    Deep down, a tiny voice says maybe, just maybe, it’s nice to be looked after.

    Fuck me, but Hope makes it hard to take care of her. I love how spirited she is, but it also scares the shit out of me. I can’t deny she’s clever and smart. Book smart, which I admire. Street smart, not so much. That’s fine—I have enough street smarts for both of us. If she’ll let me take care of her.
    My knuckles glide over the warm, soft skin of her cheek. “Do you have to go back to the office?” At the touch of my hand, her eyes close.
    Her eyelids flutter open slowly as she thinks about a response to my question. I love how deeply I can affect her with only a touch.
    “No.”
    “Good.”
    Our waitress drops off soup for Hope. Watching her sexy fucking lips purse to blow on her spoon gets me in an uncomfortable state fast.
    “So, uh, is work picking up at all?” I ask, trying to distract myself.
    She shakes her head. “No, that’s why I was eager for this