Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

MAY

Hejun's shyness had caught my attention, but the way he was treating me now was winning me over.

"Thank you for being you, Hejun. I know you're nothing like the men who used me. That's why I asked you to be my partner.

"What if I told you I really wanted to try this? That I want to touch you to see if I like it?"

The tips of his ears darkened, and he swallowed hard. Both were promising reactions until his gaze shifted between the door and the kitchen like he was looking for somewhere to run.

"If you don't want me to touch you, I won't," I said quickly. "I understand what it's like to be touched when you don't actually want to be, and I won't ever do that to you."

His gaze locked on my face. The raw hunger I saw there stole my breath.

"I have dreamed of your touch since the time you asked me if I ever smiled," he said.

He remembered that? I thought back to the second time I'd noticed him, just after the food kitchen had started up in Tenacity. I'd gone out of my way to say hello to him, and it had been the first time he'd done that head-bow thing.

He'd been cute then, but my view of him had changed with each meeting. The cuteness remained, but a sexiness had grown too. Something I'd thought I would never see in another man again. But I did with Hejun. He tempted me to want more. To try again.

"Does that mean I can touch you then?" I asked.

He looked truly torn.

"If either of us doesn't like it, we can stop, right?" I asked.

Slowly, he nodded.

"Good. Then let's start with something simple. Can I hold your hand again while you show me around your house?"

Surprise flashed across his face. A second later, he took my hand and started leading me through his house.

I liked the feel of his big hand gently cradling mine. His warmth against my cooler palm comforted me. So did the way his fingers absently stroked over mine, like he couldn't believe what he was holding, as he showed me the three bedrooms, the laundry, the bathroom, and finally back to the kitchen.

Unlike where I lived, he didn't share his home with anyone. It had nice furnishings and, more importantly, heaps of food in the cupboards he was opening.

"All of this is yours," he said. "You do not need to touch me to eat it. You can take whatever you want whenever you are hungry. If you want, I can cook for you too. Emily and Julie have been giving us lessons, so we know how."

I looked up at the grey giant, seeing more of that inner gentleness I'd glimpsed with the head bow.

"I'd like it a lot if you cooked for me," I said. "No man's ever done that before."

"I will cook every meal for you," he said, releasing my hand. "Tell me what foods you like."

"Oh, I'm a savory girl. Meat and potatoes. Chips. Stuff like that. I could never eat a dessert again and be just fine."

He started rummaging through his refrigerator.

"I like meat too," he said as he straightened, holding a container of sliced meat. "Julie made a pot roast in a slow cooker that I dream about eating again sometimes. I will make that for us tomorrow. Would you like a sandwich today? Some of the females here have been practicing making bread."

"Absolutely," I said, sitting and watching him move around.

"Tell me what else you like," he said.

I just talked about anything and everything, and he listened, occasionally asking questions. When he set a sandwich in front of me, I took bites in between talking. He never seemed bored or impatient, or judgmental.

"What about you?" I asked. "What do you like?"

The tips of his ears darkened again. The way he hurried to take my plate to the sink and ducked his head tipped me off. I'd made him nervous again.

I recalled what he'd said when we'd arrived. "I fear you are saying yes to something you do not truly want. I fear seeing more sadness in your gaze. My hands tremble with my need to touch you even as my mind tells me I cannot."

I'd asked what he liked when he'd already admitted the answer.

Soundlessly leaving my chair, I went to stand beside him so I could see his face.

"What about me do you like?" I asked.

His gaze briefly flicked to me, and that color staining the tips of his ears deepened.

"Everything," he said, looking down again. "The color of your eyes and the way you watch things. The pink scarf you always wear. Your soft smile. How you felt in my arms when I carried you. The sound of your voice."

I smiled at him. I couldn't help it. He'd sounded completely sincere when he'd said all of that.

"Would you like to know what I like about you?" I asked.

He finally looked up from the plate he was repeatedly washing and met my gaze.

His eyes were so different. Yellow-green surrounded by a deeper green and bisected by a vertical pupil, which was expanding as I stared.

At first glance, I'd been terrified of the fey and their eyes. I'd thought them cold. But they weren't. There was a warmth there I'd witnessed in other fey when they looked at their women. It was the same warmth I saw now as Hejun looked at me.

"Your eyes. They're unique and pretty and reflect your kindness. Your kindness and shyness are the reasons I decided to volunteer." I removed the washcloth and plate from his hands. "They're the reasons I wanted to try being with you."

I took his large hand in mine, feeling the intimidating power in each digit.

"Will you let me try?" I asked.

He swallowed hard and nodded jerkily.

I could feel his hand trembling. With need or nerves, though? I hoped it was a little of both. His nervousness was more of a turn-on than how much he wanted me, and I couldn't wait to see how he reacted to what I had in mind.

Smiling to myself, I turned to lead him down the hallway.