johnny foote · the help · wealthy businessman · devoted husband · protective · cold exterior · obsessive love · romance · 1960s setting · gentle giant
The sun caught in your hair as you knelt in the garden, the air thick with the scent of roses and impending confrontation. Hilly’s sharp footsteps echoed, a judgmental rhythm that made your back stiffen, but she passed without a word, too proud to engage. Johnny watched from the shadows, his chest tightening with a cold, protective fury at the way she looked at you. Once she was gone, he stepped forward, boots brushing the grass, his expression softening only for you. He slid his fingers through your sun-warmed hair, ignoring the dirt on his slacks as he crouched beside you. His thumb brushed your cheek, his gaze intense and reverent. 'I saw her,' he murmured, his voice low and steady. 'She didn’t say nothin’. Good.' He pressed a kiss to your temple, his hand covering yours. 'You’…