Falling for the New Guy. Nicole Helm
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Yes, that was why she’d fallen asleep. Apparently kept sleeping long after she should have.
“I slept all night on your couch.”
“That must be some comfortable couch you picked out. Once you were out, you were out. And snoring.”
“I do not snore.”
“Oh, right, that must have been a mouse.” He grinned. Like an actual, full-blown pleased-with-himself smile and God, he was so damn hot. And sweet. Nice and helpful and yes, it seemed about right that the first guy to trip her trigger in a long time was completely off-limits.
And the only one in...ever who’d stepped up to help. But that was her own fault. After that incident between Dad and her boyfriend right after high school, she’d given up any hope of help. She kept friends at enough distance so they didn’t know what was going on.
Work was her life, coworkers her family and her dad this secret little piece of herself no one saw.
So sure, like this guy, have the hots for this guy and be completely incapable of doing anything about it.
Well, not incapable.
Oh, no, no, no. None of that. Because giving up all she’d built to scratch an itch or get some help was idiocy. Marc’s help would be minimal and short-lived. Her reputation at the station needed to last her through retirement.
Period.
“You want some breakfast?”
“Um, thanks, really, thanks for everything, but I didn’t plan on spending the night on your couch. I need to make sure I have a pressed uniform and clean socks and all manner of things.”
“Sure, no problem.”
“I...I’m not usually this much of a mess.” She pulled her tennis shoes on. “Really. It...really.” She had a desperate need for him to understand that. He was catching her at a bad time. Usually she had no trouble juggling everything. This was abnormal. He was catching her at a bad time.
He had to believe that. She had to believe that.
“I believe you.”
Tess laughed. It wasn’t exactly a happy laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “Honestly, Marc, I don’t know why. I have given you absolutely no reason to believe I have any of my shit together.”
“Actually, most of the time you seem like you have everything infinitely together. The blips make you human instead of...”
“Instead of what?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled, turning away from her and walking toward the kitchen.
“Oh, no, you have to tell me. Come on. I’m the pathetic girl who cried on you for the second night in a row and slept on your couch. Give me something to boost my deflated ego here.”
“Your ego is fine. You make me talk too much.” He fiddled with his coffeemaker, rinsing out the carafe with more precision than necessary.
“That cheers me up almost as much as the thinking-I’ve-got-it-together thing.” It really did. She didn’t feel so pathetic, and she got a kick out of making him grumbly. “You don’t talk too much, by the way. Everything you say is...” She let out a sigh. Awkwardness wasn’t something she felt too often, but in trying to give him an honest compliment, she felt it dig in.
“Anyway.” She forced an easy, confident smile. She’d learned a long time ago how to pretend. Except when he’s all nice and you fall apart like a total loser. Ugh. She crossed to him and held her hand out. “Thanks.”
He stared at her hand for a few seconds before lifting his gaze to hers. Grrr, it was so unfair she couldn’t throw herself at him.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Don’t get all—”
“We’re friends. You don’t have to thank friends. It’s just what we do. Okay?”
She realized he was uncomfortable, possibly as awkward as she felt. Maybe he was as bad at taking gratitude as she was at expressing it. Well, hey, that would come in handy.
“Okay,” she said with a nod, dropping her hand. “No thanks. Just friends helping friends.”
Marc nodded.
“Well, friend, I’m going to go get ready to cart your ass around today, and if you want to bring your friendly FTO a cup of coffee to go, she would not say no.”
Marc’s mouth quirked, that little half smile he had. Nothing compared to the full-blown smile during the snoring conversation, but it was enough. Enough to make the unwelcome attraction flutters come out.
“Sure thing.”
Tess gave a little nod then turned toward the door. She didn’t want to face her phone and the likely bazillion messages from Dad, but she felt stronger. Better equipped to deal with them than she had yesterday.
She wasn’t sure if she would give the credit to Marc believing she had it together or just the offer of his help. Either way, it made her a little itchy. Help wasn’t something she’d ever had.
“Tess?”
She looked over her shoulder. He didn’t look up from his coffee preparations even as he spoke.
“Just to be clear, my door’s always open for...whatever.”
Not sexual, Camden. “I appreciate that.” And she did. More than she probably should. Because even if Marc was her friend and her coworker, she couldn’t always ignore helping her father. She couldn’t always distract herself from it. More, she couldn’t always count on Marc to drop everything for her. Eventually he’d build his own life here.
She stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her. Maybe Marc wouldn’t always be around to help, but for the time being, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to take a little bit.
* * *
AT THE KNOCK on the door, Marc’s heartbeat kicked up. “Moron,” he muttered into the empty apartment. An apartment that hadn’t felt all that empty until he’d come home from work this afternoon. Empty had been his way of life—it had felt like solitude.
It was not normal or okay that Tess had whirled into everything and made it feel like a void instead. Like the quiet was too quiet and the alone was too alone. He had spent the entire day working side by side with her. He’d had two hours of alone time this evening.
But he’d told her he could help. He’d told her they were friends. So he opened the door and tried to not look irritated. Besides, he wasn’t a total asshole. He could definitely be her friend without also wanting to get her naked.
Or at least he wouldn’t act on it.
“Brownies!” Tess said cheerfully. “Now, I’m no culinary genius, but I have mastered the art of the perfect box brownie.” She waltzed her way in as if she belonged. As if that was something people normally did in his life.
Hell, his mother didn’t even waltz into his place like that, and she was the overbearing sort—just more focused on Leah.
“Brownies, huh?”
“Since friends don’t say thank-you for helping each other out, they bring brownies. Also, I wanted brownies, but if I keep this whole thing in my apartment I will eat it all tonight.”
He was spared having to respond to that when his cell phone rang. Since the caller ID read Mom, Marc had to think whether or not to ignore it.
“Go ahead,” Tess said with a wave, already in his kitchen drawers, presumably rooting around for a knife to cut the brownies. Hopefully a plate, too. Because if she ate without a plate, there would be brownie crumbs everywhere and—
“Answer it,” she insisted.
Right. He clicked