Page 50 of Test the Ice
“So…” I glance at the bed. “Sharing a bed with me tonight?”
Faint wrinkles of worry appear on her forehead. “What? No!”
I walk over to the dresser and lean against it. I unbutton the top two buttons of my dress shirt, eager to get out of my stiff clothing. “You can if you want.” I grip the edge of the dresser behind me and watch the prettiest shade of pink spread over Reese’s cheeks.
“I don’t!” she blurts. “I only came in here to get ready for bed. Zoe was in the other bathroom, so I used this one…” She looks nervous. “I’ll make sure to use the other one from now on.”
I tilt my head to the side. “You’re welcome to use this one whenever you want. This is your home too.”
Reese shifts on her feet. “No, it’s not.”
I narrow my gaze. “Yes, it is.”
She sighs and pops her hip out. Her arms move to cross against her chest.Thank God.
“This is your house,” she says, emphasizing the wordyour.
“Yeah…” I push off from the dresser and grab one of my boxes. I open the dresser drawer and dump the contents in there, gathering some clothes to change into. “Butyou’remy fiancée,” I remind her. “So, what’s mine is yours, babe.”
With my back to her, I start to unbutton my shirt. I peek at her through the mirror, but she’s staring down at her bare feet instead of at me. “I think you’re insane,” she mutters. “I can’t believe I’m going through with this.”
I shrug my shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. “Going through with what? Marrying me?”
“I’m not marrying you!” she shouts.
I turn around, and her jaw drops, right along with her eyes. She scans my chest, all the way down to my waist, and then back up to my face again. Her lips slam together, and she’s suddenly looking everywhere but at me.
“Most women would kill to be my fiancée. Fake or not.”
Reese darts over to her suitcase, shoving her clothes back inside. “Well, I’m not most women.”
That much is obvious.
Doesn’t she understand that’s the entire reason I’ve taken such an interest in her?
I have to hold back a laugh as she drags her suitcase and Stella over to the bedroom door.“What are you doing?”
She looks to the bed again, and then her eyes flit in a different direction. “I’ll sleep in the other guest room.”
I can’t help but smirk. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
I hum to myself, and she rolls her eyes.
Before she gets too far, I stride over to the door and call down the hall. “We have breakfast plans tomorrow.”
She stops walking, her spine straightening.
“Kitchen. Eight am. See you then, Dimples.”
I shut my door and head to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
The steam from her shower lingers, and the smell of her shampoo fills my head. I tell myself not to do it, but the last thing I think about before falling asleep is Reese and those teeny-tiny pajamas.
Eighteen
REESE
