Page 29 of Courageous Yearnings

“Can you spell ‘Um’ so I make sure and write it down,” he teased, smirking and looking at her as she rolled her eyes.

“A bed, towels, a shower curtain…”

“Let’s focus on the bed thing,” he interrupted. “What’s your ideal bed? Big bed? Small bed? Super plush? Satin sheets? Cotton T-shirt sheets? Lots of pillows? A body pillow? Oh, tell me you hug a body pillow to you at night and…”

“Skip the bed,” she muttered.

“Um, the bed is really important and something you’ll use daily.”

“It’s also personal, and I’ll figure it out.”

“I thought I was going to help you?”

“Not if you are going to make things sound dirty or…”

“Wait a second,” Lance protested, looking at her in surprise. “I’ve been on my best behavior and haven't made a dirty comment yet.”

“Satin sheets? Body pillows?”

“Those are legit questions!”

“Those are questions a perv wants answered!”

“Okay – so now I’m a perv for being nice?”

“No, you obviously have one thing on your mind, and I have prior experience with the way your mind works - which is why we are not discussing my bedroom furniture.”

“Wow. I never took you for a prude.”

“A prude?!” she gaped, stunned and stared at his profile as he scribbled something and underlined it three times dramatically. “What did you just write down?”

“Prude,” he said simply and shrugged.

“I’m not a prude, and not wanting to discuss my bedroom with you doesn’t make me a prude. It makes me a very private person.”

“Private people sleep in beds too, you know.”

“I don’t believe you,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead again… only to see him write down something else. “Now, what are you writing down?”

“Ibuprofen, sheesh… nosy much?”

“Oh my gosh,” she began in exasperation – and heard his chuckle.

“Anyone ever tell you that you are not only a prude but uptight, too?”

“You are insufferable.”

“And a realist.”

“Fine!” she snapped. “What kind of stuff would you pick out for the bedroom?”

“Why my lovely little Boop, I thought you’d never asked,” he said huskily, and she knew in that second, that she’d fallen right into his trap. “I want a big bed that I can play around in easily, rolling in every direction with plenty of room to stretch out or cuddle if I want to. I really think I want a four-poster bed frame with soft sheets and…”

“Stop…” she whispered, feeling her face flush with warmth as she stared at him. His eyes held hers as he continued speaking despite her request.

“Lots of pillows,” he murmured. “I want a haven, a soft bed that welcomes me… somewhere I can collapse into knowing I’m finally home.”

“Oh mercy,” she barely uttered, her heart hammering in her chest as she pictured him crawling into a soft, fluffy bed. She could see a small mountain of pillows, a down coverlet, all the soft coziness he’d just mentioned, but that wasn’t what caught her breath.

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