Page 56 of Roughing It

“No, it’s holding steady.”

She pulls her knees to her chest, watching me. The flicker of the flamesbathe her in their orange glow, like some sort of fire goddess.

Setting one last large piece in the flames, I crawl back into bed and pull Blakely to me, spooning her from behind. I drape one arm over her stomach, the other under her pillow. Her body melts against mine, and I hide my face in her hair, taking a greedy inhale of her sweet floral scent.And that damn fancy ass shampoo.

She squirms, trying to turn to face me. “Stop all that wiggling,” I grumble and hold her tighter, relishing the sensation of her ass against my cock.

Blakely huffs, “Spoilsport,” and shifts against me once more.

It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to keep from rutting her right here and now. Gripping her hip, I nudge her ear with my nose. “Sleep.”

It isn’t long before she’s snoring in my arms, adorable little snuffles and sniffs. I kiss her neck twice, then let exhaustion pull me under.

A handful of hours later, I wake with Blakely wrapped around me like vines on a trellis. Unwinding myself from her grabby hands, I take in the pout of her lips, the small lines around her eyes, the turned-up tip of her nose. Her blonde hair has gone from silky waves to messy snarls, but it only makes me want to tangle my hands in the mussed strands.

Fuck, Hudson, you big sap. Get a grip.I scold myself as I take a leak. Blakely’s got me waxing poetic in my head. I blame Bo and his Hallmark movie mentions. And her pillowy lips. And hourglass curves. And maddening mouth.

I curse myself on the way to the kitchen, but I make two cups of coffee—one black, one with two sugars and more cream than could ever be right.

A soft yawn precedes thin arms wrapping around my waist. Blakely buries her face in my back. “Good morning.”

Turning, I steal a quick peck and hand her the mug.

“For me?”

“For you.”

After the first sip, she smacks her lips like I’ve made her some gourmet creation. “Mmm. Liquid gold.” Then she smiles. “Thanks for keeping me warm last night.”

“Turns out sleeping next to you isn’t the worst thing.”

She laughs. “Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You keep me humble.”

“There are many words I could use to describe you, but humble isn’t one.”

She rolls her eyes, hands me her half-finished coffee, and strolls to the bathroom.

“It’s too cold for what I had planned. How about a cabin day?” I ask, placing our mugs on the counter.

Her eyes study me, narrowing for a moment. “This feels like a trick. You aren’t going to make me weave a blanket from roots and build a windproof shelter out of my hair or something equally terrible?”

So fucking dramatic. I don’t bother answering her. She blows a raspberry at me and disappears behind the bathroom door. While she’s in there, her phone buzzes. And buzzes. And fucking buzzes.

When the damn thing goes off for a fifth time, I snap, storming to the bed and answering the video call. “What?” I growl in greeting.

“Um, Hudson? It’s me, Kirk James. Blakely’s manager?”

I settle on the mattress and kick my feet up. “Is something wrong? Why’re you calling?”

He holds his hands up in a placating manner. “No. No. Everything’s good. Better than good, even. Is Blakely available?”

“She’s in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” His eyes flit rapidly.

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