Love Rents A Room
Chapter 120: Waiting For Him

Chapter 120: Waiting For Him

Jeffrey froze, his hand halfway guiding hers, as Patrick’s amused voice interrupted them.

Still blushing, Joanne turned toward him with an unbothered smirk. "You haven’t left yet, Paddy? It’s late."

Patrick crossed his arms, shooting Jeffrey a teasing look. "I was going to, but I figured I’d wait for lover boy to get home first. You made me wait too long," he said with a wink.

Joanne chuckled, warmth blooming in her chest. Ever since Caruso’s attack, Patrick and the farmhands had been extra protective—always keeping an eye on her, watching the fences, checking the cameras.

It wasn’t just a job to them. They genuinely cared.

Patrick tilted his head toward the house, smirking. "Now that he’s here, I’ll be leaving. You two should, uh... continue inside."

Joanne rolled her eyes while Jeffrey huffed a laugh.

"See you in the morning, Paddy!" she called out, waving.

Patrick waved back before heading off, leaving Joanne standing on the porch, wrapped in Jeffrey’s arms, a soft smile lingering on her lips.

"Ah, I forgot something," Jeffrey said, still chuckling as he broke away from her side and jogged down the porch steps toward his car.

Joanne tilted her head, watching him curiously. What could he have possibly forgotten?

Moments later, he emerged with a suit draped over his arm. "Caruso called me this evening to pick this up."

Joanne took the suit from him, her fingers grazing the fine fabric. Jeffrey followed her inside, his head instinctively turning as he glanced around the property.

Before stepping through the door, he let out a sharp whistle.

Fluffy barked in response, his paws thudding against the ground as he rushed toward the house. From the stables, his namesake—Jeffrey, the horse—neighed in acknowledgment.

"Good night, Jeffrey!" Jeffrey called from the porch, grinning at his equine counterpart.

After Fluffy trotted inside, Jeffrey shut the door, his gaze flickering over the locks and lights, checking everything one last time before securing it for the night.

Joanne stood back, watching him with a mix of admiration and warmth.

She never asked him to do that. He just did it.

Maybe it was instinct—some ancient, unwritten law written into the very bones of men. When they found home, they protected it. They made sure the doors were locked, the lights were checked, the place was safe.

And this... this was his home now.

Shaking off the sudden rush of emotion, Joanne turned her attention to the suit. "Did you try it on? How does it look?" she asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

Jeffrey nodded, leaning casually against the couch. "Yeah. It’s a perfect fit."

A hint of surprise still colored his tone. The craftsmanship was impeccable, nothing like he expected from a small-town tailor. This guy had technique, real precision. With the right exposure, he could be working for high-end brands—or even be a brand himself.

Joanne’s lips curled into a teasing smile. "Did you take a picture?"

Jeffrey blinked. "A picture?" His brows knitted in confusion. "You want me to take pictures in the trial room?"

"...You don’t take pictures in the trial room?" Joanne asked, like that was the absurd part.

Jeffrey chuckled, shaking his head.

"Show me," she said, crossing her legs as she settled onto the couch. "I want to see how it looks on you."

Jeffrey arched a brow. "Now?"

It was late. The last thing he wanted to do was wrestle with a suit when there were better things—way better things—he’d rather be doing. Like eating dinner.

And then her.

As if Fluffy could sense his plight, the dog barked loudly, trotting over with hopeful eyes.

Jeffrey groaned, rubbing his stomach. "I’m hungry too..." he mumbled, just loud enough for Joanne to hear.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t miss the glint of amusement in his.

And just like that, her ’feeding switch’ flipped on.

"Go wash up," she ordered, pushing off the couch and heading toward the kitchen. "I’ll plate the dinner."

Jeffrey grinned. Perfect.

With a soft smile, Jeffrey headed upstairs. The shower was quick—he didn’t want to waste a single moment away from her. By the time he rushed back down, his hair still damp, he slowed his steps, taking a moment to soak in the sight before him.

Joanne was sitting at the table, waiting for him.

His chest tightened. It was such a simple thing, yet it overwhelmed him.

She was waiting for him.

This incredible, stubborn, beautiful woman—someone who could have had anyone, who didn’t need to wait for anyone—was here, waiting for him.

"Did you wait for me?" he asked, his voice laced with quiet wonder. "You shouldn’t wait if I’m late," he added, though a selfish part of him wanted her to.

"But I like waiting for you," she said. No hesitation. No pretense. Just the plain, honest truth.

Jeffrey’s legs nearly buckled. At this rate, he was definitely going to die of arrhythmia. How could she just say things like that? So easily, so casually—while his heart was slamming against his ribs like it wanted to break free?

Unable to resist, he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were soft, warm—his.

His hands slid to the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss, unable to get enough of her.

"You say things like that," he murmured against her lips, "and expect me to sleep separately?"

Before she could answer, he kissed her again, his lips coaxing a sigh from her as she melted into him. Damn dinner. He wanted her first.

Joanne barely registered when he lifted her, carrying her effortlessly to the couch. She was lost in his touch, in his warmth—until he suddenly paused.

His fingers hovered at the waistband of his pants, but instead of pulling them down, he glanced toward the side, his expression wary.

"I just realized something," he muttered.

Joanne blinked up at him, breathless. "What?"

He exhaled, clearly torn. "You neutered your dog," he said. "And now I’m afraid he’s going to steal my jewels."

It took her a second. Then she burst out laughing.

Jeffrey frowned at Fluffy, who was sitting nearby, staring at him in judgmental silence.

"Why not let him borrow your balls, then?" Joanne teased, standing up and making her way back to the dining room, shaking with laughter as she fixed her clothes.

Jeffrey groaned, dropping his head back against the couch. Unbelievable. This woman...

Still grinning, she called over her shoulder, "Come on, let’s eat."

He sighed dramatically but followed her, taking the seat beside her.

Dinner passed with easy conversation, warm glances, and lingering touches. Afterward, Jeffrey helped wash the dishes, and before long, they were curled up together on the couch, sipping whiskey.

Joanne rested against his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin.

Outside, the night was still. Inside, wrapped in his arms, she felt peace.