Page 20 of Big Gruff Owner

“Of course, Sadie.” The way he says my name sends a tingle through me. He pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight, shining it into the house. “Let’s grab your phone and house keys. You can grab anything else you need to stay at my place for the night.”

He leads me back inside and I follow him closely. It doesn’t take long for me to grab my stuff and soon we’re headed back out the door, the night air cool against my skin as we walk the few steps to his front door. He opens it and gestures for me to go in first. His lights are dimmed, but on and the warmth of his place hits me immediately.

A second later the scent of him fills my nose and I have to resist the urge to take a deep breath just to absorb more of the faint scent of something woodsy and masculine. It’s comforting in a way I didn’t expect.

“Make yourself at home,” he says, flipping on a few more lights. His house is neat, almost overly so. There’s not a hint of decoration to it and if it weren’t for the small touches of him—black boots at the door, a newspaper on the counter—you’d think it was a show home.

I stand there awkwardly in the entryway, not sure where to go or what to do.

“You can take my bed,” he tells me, nodding toward a doorway down the hall. “I’ll crash on the couch.”

I glance at the couch. It’s nice enough, but it doesn’t look nearly big enough for someone his size. At five foot two he towers more than a head over me. There’s no way that would be comfortable.

“I can’t kick you out of your bed,” I protest. “Besides, you’re too tall to sleep on that couch.”

He shrugs. “I’ll manage.”

“No, really, it’s fine. I’ll take the couch.”

He gives me a look, one that says he’s not going to argue about this. But I’m not backing down either. The last thing I want is to be the reason he has a miserable night.

“How about we both just sleep in the bed?” I suggest, trying to sound casual. “We’re both adults. We can handle it, right?”

He hesitates, and for a second, I think he’s going to say no. But then he nods, and I can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, we can handle it.”

I follow him to his bedroom, trying to ignore the way my heart is pounding in my chest. The room is simple, like the rest of his house, but it smells like him—clean, woodsy, with just a hint of something darker underneath. It’s intoxicating.

He walks over to the left side, the side that is clearly crumpled from where his body had previously laid. He climbs in and I slide in next to him, keeping a respectful distance. Still, I can’t help noticing how warm he is, even with the distance between us. I can’t ignore how solid he feels either, just lying there next to me.

As I close my eyes, trying to will myself to relax, my body is hyperaware of every little thing—the sound of his breathing, the way the sheets feel against my skin, the tingling sensation in my stomach that I can’t quite explain. Eventually, though, the warmth and the comfort of his presence manage to lull me to sleep.

And for the first time since I moved here, I finally feel safe.

Chapter Three

Nathan

I wake up in the middle of the night, the kind of wake-up where your body knows something’s off before your brain catches on. At first, I think it’s just the usual shit—memories that won’t leave me alone, the kind that drag me out of sleep in a cold sweat. But tonight, it’s different. The bed feels warmer, softer somehow.

It takes a second to figure out what’s happening, and when I do, my heart damn near stops.

Sadie’s all but wrapped around me. Her leg is thrown over mine, and my arms—Jesus, my arms are holding her close, like I’ve got no intention of letting go. Her head’s tucked under my chin, her hair tickling my neck, and the scent of her—something sweet and floral—is filling my lungs. I don’t even know how this happened. We went to bed with plenty of space between us.

And then, I feel it—the hard evidence of my arousal pressed against her thigh. My gut twists in panic. If she wakes up and finds us like this, she’ll think I’ve done it on purpose. The last thing I want is to make her uncomfortable. Hell, the last thing I want is to be the creep who takes advantage of a scared girl who just needed a place to sleep.

I try to move, to untangle us without waking her, but the second I shift, she stirs. Her eyes flutter open, and before I can even think of what to say, she’s looking right at me, her expression still soft with sleep.

“Sorry,” I blurt out, my voice rough with panic. “I woke up like this—I didn’t mean to—”

She blinks a couple of times, then gives me this sleepy little smile that makes my chest tighten. “You don’t have to apologize,” she says quietly. “But I can move if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Her voice is soft, but there’s something in it that hits me deep, something that makes me realize just how much I don’t want her to move. Before I even know what I’m doing, I tighten my grip on her, pulling her closer, my body acting on instinct.

“No,” I say, my voice low. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

And I’m not. Not in the way she might think, at least. I should be—this whole situation should have me scrambling to put distance between us, but all I can think about is how right it feels to have her here, to feel her against me.

Our eyes lock, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of us in the dark, the quiet of the night wrapping around us like a blanket. I don’t know who moves first—maybe it’s her, maybe it’s me—but suddenly, our lips are touching, soft and tentative at first, like we’re both testing the waters.

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