Page 139 of Fresh Canvas
Stepping out of the bathroom, I stopped dead in my tracks. “Good Lord.”
In the dim lamplight of the living room, Val was placing afitted sheet over his luxurious couch. His back, or rather, hisbareback flexed as he arranged his bedding. The wide planes of his strong shoulders tapered down to his lean, muscled waist. Two olive-toned dimples presented themselves just above the waistband of the gray sweatpants slung low across his hips.
I swallowed. “Are you freaking serious?”
Val turned in surprise, his eyebrows pulling together.
I groaned in response. The front of him was even better, or worse, depending on how you looked at it. Seeing my pointed frustration, Val looked down with a puzzled expression before recognition sparked.
“I swear I’m not trying to seduce you. This is just how I sleep, promise.”
“Still,” I grumbled. “Don’t you own a snowsuit or something?”
His open laugh was rich and full. “Good to know the effect I have on you, Adams. Now come on, let’s get you something dry to wear.”
Taking my hand, Val led me into his dark and moody bedroom. He had already unmade his bed for me, turning down the silken charcoal bedding. Bronze sconces lit the room in a soft glow.
I could have sworn Val was purposefully avoiding looking at the bed.
He pushed open his closet door and flipped on the light. “You can pick whatever you want, but I’ll ask that you keep any open flame away from those.” He pointed to a hanging row of white button-ups with a smirk.
“Get. Out.”
Val held up his hands in mock surrender as he backed out, closing the bedroom door behind him.
“That man,” I muttered with a grin.
Self control hadn’t been this hard since I discovered Girl Scout cookies.
I perused the color-coded racks and scanned the pristine shelves of expertly folded clothes. Then I fiddled with a buttonon one of his stupid white button-ups with a devilish grin, debating walking out wearingjustthat.
Not yet.
Huffing, I chose one of Val’s longer cotton T-shirts. My wet clothes landed in a damp pile as I tugged it on. The hem grazed my thighs in a makeshift nightgown.Good enough.Scooping up my wet clothes, I decided to use Val’s dryer. I was halfway there when Val’s rough voice made me jump.
“What? Are you trying to get back at me or something?”
I turned to find him occupying the leather armchair in the corner of the living room. He leaned forward on his knees, his eyes pointedly skimming up my bare legs. I regarded the hungry look in his eyes before my cheeks flushed. I shrugged—a gesture far more casual than I felt.
“I don’t know. Getting back at you would require you to admit you intentionally started something first.”
“Then I plead the fifth, your honor.” His bare torso shifted in the lamplight as he stood, fire burning in his eyes.
I gulped as he walked toward me.
“Okay, fine. A little bit. But you started it.” My breathing sped as my pile of wet clothes fell to the floor.
“Guilty as charged.” His muscled arms pulled me to his sculpted bare chest with the promise of passion.
“Val.” I trembled, my mouth running dry. “I… I can’t. I mean, don’t… Don’t start something we can’t finish. Not yet.”
His expression softened, though the want never left his eyes. “You seem to be struggling with your sentences again, Adams,” he murmured, tracing a finger down the length of my cheek.
A beat of silence passed as my heart beat wildly against his, each second hedging my dwindling amount of willpower.
Val swung his eyes to the ceiling with a sigh. “But as much as I hate when you’re right, Adams—you are. I think it’s best if we called it a night.” His lips pressed longingly against my temple before he sank down on the couch. “I’ll put your clothes in the dryer. Andplease, feel free to lock the bedroom door.” He ran a frustrated hand through his disheveled curls.
I stooped to kiss his stubbled cheek before putting as many walls and doors between us as possible. But before I could shut the bedroom door, Val’s voice wafted toward me.
