Page 49 of Faking I Do
“Damn, it’s dark out here.” His feet shuffled on the carpet. The sound of Bodie getting settled under the covers brought a slight sense of comfort and a tidal wave of anxiety. “You okay?”
I waited a beat before answering. “Yeah.”
“It’s going to be fine. You believe me, don’t you?”
Rolling to face the direction of his voice, I took in a deep breath. “I want to.”
“It will. You’ll find someone else to have the first wedding.”
“But the story . . . I don’t know if the reporter will be on board if we don’t have Swynton royalty involved.”
Bodie’s chuckle sent a wave of warmth through me. “Swynton royalty? Is that a thing?”
“May as well be. I think Adeline’s crowned herself queen.”
“We don’t need Adeline. You’ll figure something out.” He yawned. “You always do.”
His faith in my ability to always find a solution had to be misplaced. I tried to close my eyes and give in to the sheer exhaustion I’d been battling since I climbed into the limo this morning. My body craved sleep. But my brain operated on overdrive, trying to sort out options on how to handle the latest development in my quest to save the town.
Bodie’s breath evened out. I lifted the neck of his shirt to my nose, hoping his scent would calm down my frayed nerves. All it did was make me hyperaware of how close he was. Close enough to reach out and touch. Close enough to hear the breath leave his lips on an exhale. Close enough to guarantee I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep.
I lay there for what seemed like hours. The more I tried to fall asleep, the more wide awake I became. Until I finally gave up and threw the covers off in frustration. I’d cycled through the first five stages of grief since I’d been lying in the dark, a process I was unfortunately too familiar with, thanks to the therapy sessions my dad had forced on me when my mom passed. Now I was stuck in the all-is-lost phase.
“What the hell’s going on over there?” The sound of Bodie’s voice made my heart stop.
I tried to infuse my voice with sleepiness. “What?” I mumbled.
The mattress groaned as he shifted. “You’ve been tossing and turning more than a pig in a mud bath over there.”
“Nice.” Figured he’d compare me to a swine. If I’d harbored even a smidgen of hope that he might consider me a romantic interest, comparing me to a muddy pig had obliterated any chance.
“Neither one of us is going to get any sleep if you don’t talk about it.”
I stuck my lower lip out in a pout. He couldn’t see it though so it wasn’t worth the effort. “I blew it. I may as well resign as mayor and turn everything over to Swynton.”
Bodie’s mattress creaked then he sat down on the edge of my bed. “Look, you had a setback but all’s not lost.”
I scooted away, not wanting to roll toward him into the indentation he’d made. “It feels that way. I finally had everyone working toward a common goal. People were excited about being featured in the magazine. It would have given us such a boost.”
His hand patted the mattress, coming closer and closer. It landed on my hip. “Where the hell are you? Give me your hand.”
Heat prickled my hip. That wouldn’t do at all. I slid my hand on top of his, breaking the connection with my lower body. The hip bone connected to the pelvis bone. The pelvis bone connected to . . . I couldn’t go there.
“You’re being way too hard on yourself.”
I sat up, dropping his hand. “I got arrested. For assaulting an officer.”
Bodie laughed. “It was an honest mistake.”
“Have you ever been mistaken for a stripper?” As the question left my lips, I immediately regretted it. With a body likehis, Bodie definitely could have been a stripper. Based on what I’d seen of him, he put the actual strippers to shame.
He sighed. “I can’t say that I have.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Come here.” He reached for me, drawing me into an awkward hug.
My cheek pressed against his naked chest. His scent surrounded me, invading my personal space, heating my blood to an uncomfortable degree. With my face smashed against him, he wrapped his arms around me.
