Page 55 of For the Promise

Chapter 18

“You won’t hear me complaining about lying in the bed I made.” ~ Blossom

Blossom

“I’ve never met someone who has absolutely zero sense of rhythm before,” I tease as we walk back to the chalet after the rehearsal dinner and dance.

“I have rhythm,” Jaxon argues.

“You stepped on my foot twice.”

“I will accept credit for the first time, but the second time was your fault.”

I lift a brow. “It’s my fault you stepped on my foot?”

“You stopped dancing because you were laughing so hard.”

“Because you tripped over your own feet and ended up grabbing the ass of the person dancing next to you. You’re lucky his boyfriend found the situation hilarious.”

He grunts. “I don’t have time for dancing.”

“You need to make time for having fun.”

“I have fun,” he growls and I shiver. What I wouldn’t do to hear him growl while he’s in bed with me.

“Are you cold?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before unbuttoning his jacket and shrugging it off. “Here.” He lays the jacket over my shoulders before wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me near.

The jacket smells of him. Whiskey and ocean. The combination is surprising and intoxicating. I may steal this jacket before the weekend’s over.

“Here we are.” Jaxon ushers me into the chalet. “Do you want to shower to warm up?”

“I’ll be fine. I don’t like to shower before bed.”

He steers me toward the bathroom. “You can get ready for bed first.”

I slip his jacket off and hand it to him. “I should probably get my pajamas from my suitcase first. Before I end up running around the chalet in my underwear again.”

His breath hitches. Does he want to watch me walk around the chalet in my panties and bra as much as I want to parade around in front of him? My nipples pebble at the idea of him feasting his gaze on me.

He steps back and motions to the closet. “Probably a good idea.”

Disappointment rolls through me but I ignore it. This is a fake marriage. It’s not real. We’re not going to enjoy each other all night long. No matter how much I want to.

Jaxon is merely playing by the rules. He’s not deliberately hurting me or playing games.

I find my nightshirt and hurry back to the bathroom. I dump the shirt on the vanity. I’m reaching for the door to shut it whenI realize I have a problem. There’s no way I can get out of this dress without help. At least not without straining my back.

I peek into the bedroom. Jaxon is sitting on the bed with his face in his hands. Is something wrong? Does he regret marrying me? This arrangement?

“Jaxon,” I call. His head whips up. “Can you unzip me?”

He stands and prowls toward me. There’s no regret in his gaze. Only heat in those blue eyes as he comes closer.

“I’ve been wondering how you zipped up your dress all night.”

I whirl around and lift my hair off my neck. “Sorry. It’s a trade secret.”

He slowly lowers my zipper. I feel the air hit my heated skin. I want to feel Jaxon stroke my naked back. But he doesn’t touch me.

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