Page 39 of On The Rocks

“Okay, in we go.” I shuffled him over to the wall. “Stay.”

“Ruff.”

I rolled my eyes and let him go, my hands hovering over him for a moment.

“Don’t want to let me go, huh?”

“You fall now, and I’m leaving you on the floor. You can crawl to bed.”

He snickered. “Nah. You wouldn’t do that.”

“Don’t try me.” I pressed my hand to his chest for a second, my fingers digging lightly into his firm muscles before I let him go and hurried to close the door.

I glanced around at the loft space. It was all open floor plan with eclectic furnishings that shouldn’t work together yet made me want to take my time and look around.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“Not sure how many times I dreamed about you saying that.” His eyes were closed and his head tipped back.

I didn’t have an answer for that one, so I ignored it.

Turned out I didn’t need to worry about it since he swayed on his feet, nearly passing out on me.

I hurried over and grabbed his arm. “Hey, don’t pass out on me or I’m leaving you on that couch.” He swayed again and opened heavy-lidded eyes.

“Hidden door,” he mumbled.

“Oh, and how am I supposed to find that?”

He turned his head, and I followed his gaze to a built-in bookcase with sheetrock. The only space that wasn’t a brick wall.

“Whose idea was that?”

He grinned. “Mine. Was how I got Kain to help.” A soft, sappy grin wreathed his face. “Secret.”

I helped him over to the bookcase, grinning when I saw the barn owl bookend. Had to be that one. I reached for it and pulled it forward and the whole bookcase swung inward.

The room was surprisingly spacious. Furnishings must have been put in here before it was walled off since he had a king-sized bed inside. The headboard reminded me of the honeycomb structure that had been added to the taproom behind my new neon sign.

Beachy driftwood colors dominated this wall feature and on either side of the bed were cabinets done in a soft gray that probably held clothes. We shuffled toward the bed, and he was definitely heading for blackout.

I slung him toward the bed, and he dropped like a stone, one leg on the bed, one dangling on the floor. His arms were outstretched, and his eyes were already shut.

Good deed done, I backed up to leave, but seeing his position, I knew he’d be a broken puppy if I left him like that.

Sighing, I went back to the bed, then I bent to untie his boot. It took some pulling, but I finally got it off, laughing when I found navy socks with pit bull dogs stitched into them. I lifted his leg, struggling to realign his body to get it on the bed, which left me straddling his calves.

I inched back to attack the laces on his other boot. “What is with the triple knots, man?” I finally pulled the knots free and tossed the boot over my shoulder.

Rising, I braced my hands on my hips. I was freaking winded, for God’s sake. “Good enough.”

There was no way I was getting him under the blankets. I scanned the room and spotted a fuzzy throw blanket on a bench at the end of his bed. I grabbed it and tossed it over him.

I pushed back the curl that fell onto his forehead. His face was smoothed out in sleep. Still so angular and rough. Especially his nose, which was endearingly crooked.

Okay, that was enough of those thoughts.

I stepped back, but he clamped a hand around my wrist. I tried to tug it away.

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