Page 40 of Tangled
She nodded, her cheek brushing against his chest. They fell into a quiet and companionable silence as he played with one of her curls and she splayed her hand across his abdomen. She’d seen a lot of fit men before. She’d worked with a lot of military and team guys who could double as romance novel cover models. But there was something about Brad’s body that had her nerve endings lighting up. He was built, though not ripped, and something about that felt real. And hers.
Her hand drifted beneath the covers and down his thigh before she ran it back up his inner leg. He shifted, widening them, giving her better access. Wrapping her hand around his length, she stroked.
He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “I love the feel of your hands on me,” he whispered reverently. His hips twitched and small, almost feral, noises passed through his lips as she continued to stroke him. She loved seeing him like this; she loved that he didn’t rush her, and that he was more than content to enjoy the ride she wanted to take him on.
She rose over him and smiled. Because she most definitely had a ride planned for him.
Three hours later, she woke to Brad kissing her forehead. She’d fallen back asleep and slept through him rising and getting ready for work.
“I’ll come home for lunch,” he said. “There’s pancake batter in the fridge.”
She opened her eyes at that and stared at him. She hadn’t known him even a week, but she very much suspected that she was falling in love with him. She’d never been in love before so wasn’t certain, but she’d never felt this kind of desire before, a craving that was so much more than the physical. The desire to see him again in a few hours, to have lunch with him, and justbewith him, was all new. In some ways, it made her uncomfortable, like a needy teenager with her first crush. But in others, it felt right. As if it wasn’t possible for her to feel any other way.
“Thank you,” she said, lifting her head for a kiss. He obliged and when he pulled away, he ran his fingers through her hair, cupping her cheek.
She thought he might give her one more kiss, then say goodbye, and while he did give her another kiss, he didn’t say goodbye. “I know everything is in flux right now and this, what’s between us, is new. But I’m glad you’re here. In my bed—in our bed. But also here, in my life. In my family’s life. Thank you.”
Before she could say anything in return, he kissed her forehead one more time and walked out. She stared at the empty door, then heard the front one open, then close. Silence enveloped her. Glancing out the window, she watched big cotton ball-size snowflakes drift down.
Slumping against the pillows in a way that let her watch the snow, she replayed his words in her head. He’d thankedher. After everything he’d done for her, he’d thanked her. She understood his words but didn’t fully comprehend them. One thing that stood out to her, though, was that she needed him to know how much she appreciated him, too. Not just her gratitudefor everything he and his family were doing to help her, but that she appreciatedhim. The man who had captured her heart.
After a long shower and an even longer debate about how to show Brad that she cared, she decided to go the old-fashioned route. She called his parents, discovered his favorite meal, then asked for help in making it. She knew the basics, but cooking was a skill she’d never had to master—between her travels and the mess halls she generally ate in, she hadn’t spent much time in the kitchen since her parents’ deaths. All of which was how she found herself that afternoon in Brad’s kitchen with Anthony Warwick learning how to make prime rib and Yorkshire pudding.
Anthony was explaining when to add the Yorkshire pudding batter to the hot pan when a knock came at the door. Not expecting anyone, but now also used to the way the Warwicks dropped in and out, she wiped her hands on her apron—something Anthony had insisted on—and opened the door.
And found a woman she’d never met before and who most definitely was not a Warwick. Scarlett’s heart skipped several beats and, as if sensing her unease, the woman stepped back.
“I’m Andrea Frazier, the head of security for the lodge,” she said. Scarlett’s gaze skimmed over her. With her embroidered pants, long crocheted sweater, and bangle bracelets, she didn’t look like any security Scarlett had ever seen. If she’d learned anything in life, though, it was that looks could be deceiving.
“You must be Scarlett,” Andrea added.
Not having any reason to doubt her, yet still not ready to take her word, Scarlett glanced at Anthony. He wiped his hands on his own apron and came far enough around the kitchen island to peek through the open door.
“Andrea! Nice to see you,” he said with a smile.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Scarlett held out her hand and shook Andrea’s. “I’m sorry, you caught me off guard, pleasecome in.” She moved to the side, and the woman walked in, waving a greeting to Anthony.
“Brad’s not here. Can I help you with something?” Scarlett asked, unsure why she was there, but sensing it wasn’t a social call.
“Brad’s on his way,” Andrea replied. “He’s finishing a call but asked me to meet you here.”
Anthony came to join them, standing at her side.
“Okay,” Scarlett said, drawing out the word. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but why?”
Andrea held out an envelope. “Because Jason Katz left this for you at the front desk.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“No. Absolutely not,” Brad said. The look Scarlett shot him told him exactly how shefelt about being dictated to.
“I have to agree with my son,” Anthony said. Brad nodded to his dad in acknowledgment of his support.
“I don’t know,” Chad said. Brad narrowed his eyes at his cousin.
“I’m kind of with Scarlett on this one,” Sabina added.
Brad clenched his jaw to keep from shouting that they were all crazy. There was no way in hell Scarlett was going to meet Jason Katz. No matter how polite the letter he’d had delivered to her was worded.
