Page 50 of The Lair

“Mm.”

“Is this…. Um, is this your jacket?”

“You looked cold,” he explains.

I eye the blanket I keep in a decorative basket mere inches from his feet and decide to ignore the way my heart goesthump, thump, thumpin my chest.

“What time is it?” I mumble, placing the jacket on the back of the couch.

“Around three.”

I sit up, alarmed. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. You probably wanted to go home. I’m sorry I kept you here.”

But the huge man beside me grumbles, “Go back to sleep, Allie.”

“But—”

“There’s nobody waiting for me at home.” Sadness and relief crash into me at once. “I have two dogs, but I keep the barn open, and their doghouses and food are in there, so they’ll be fine. I have an alarm system and cameras. If you want me to stay just in case, I’ll stay. But you need to rest.”

“All right, but you need to sleep too.” I’m proud of the authoritative tone of my voice. “You’re working tomorrow.”

“So are you.”

It’s too early to be doing this with him. “I slept a handful of hours. I’m fine.”

“I’m fine too.”

I raise an unimpressed eyebrow. “So, you’re not drinking coffee to stay awake?”

“No.”

“I’ve never seen you drink coffee before,” I point out.

“I only have it for breakfast.”

“And you’re having breakfast at three in the morning?”

“Yes.”

He’s so full of it, I can’t help my lips from twitching. “What if I stay awake? Will you go to sleep then?”

I know the answer before he says it. “No.”

Because I’m very aware that we are not going to get anywhere if we continue down this path—and also because my sleep-deprived brain isn’t thinking straight—I stand from the couch with a new resolve and disappear into my bedroom.

When I come back, Travis’s eyes follow my movements with a face so straight, I couldn’t read it if I wanted to.

I turn on the floor lamp by the couch, drop my bracelet-making kit on the coffee table, plop down on the floor in front of it, and announce, “We’re making friendship bracelets.”

Once more, I don’t imagine the grunt that leaves the back of his throat. Bear-man, indeed. “I don’t befriend my staff.”

I ignore the stab-like feeling in my chest as I open the kit and look for the green beads I know I keep somewhere. “But you spend the night at their place in case there’s a break-in?”

That shuts him right up.

The smug smirk on my lips remains as I conclude, “Friendship bracelets it is. Any objections?”

I’m sure he has many—too bad I’m ignoring them all.

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