Page 16 of A Not So Merry Rescue
The door opens, and he pokes his head in. His hair’s more disheveled,like he’s been tugging on the ends of it. “Uh, sorry. Did I wake you?”
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I need to take out mycontacts. What time is it? Why are you here?” The last question is rude considering the man owns the place, but hell if I can stop it.
“Almost midnight. The snow’s pretty bad, probably not safe to drive to the rental.”
“But you left hours ago. How did you get back if the roads are bad?”
“I was in the garage taking out my aggression and working on . . . something.”
I don’t miss the way he exaggeratesaggressionnor how he doesn’t tell me what he’s working on. Not that it’s my business.
“Oh, okay. So, do you need your bed?”
“Nah. I’ll sleep on the couch. I didn’t want you to think it was someone else in the cabin. A predator or such.” One side of his mouth curls up, and heat inflames my cheeks.
“I didn’t think . . .” He raises an eyebrow. In any other situation, it would be sexy, but given my current predicament, I shove it away. My shoulders drop from where they crept to my ears. “Okay, I totally went there. Didn’t even think it could be you. What’s wrong with me?”
“You seriously want me to answer that question?”
“Uh, nope.” A nervous laugh spills out. “I can take the couch.” The comment escapes with no prior thought. While it appears comfy, not for a night of sleep. And this bed is way comfier than I expected as evidenced by my deep slumber. I don’t know if I want to give it up. I stand up, halted in place when Beckett pushes the door open wider.
“Nonsense. The bed is way more comfortable.”
I won’t argue with him if he’s offering his bed. “Um, okay. Thanks.” He doesn’t move from the doorway, but now that I’m awake, a need to empty my bladder comes over me. “I, uh, need to use the bathroom.”
He stares down at me for a few beats, his mind working through something he’s not sharing. The way he’s studying me, eyeing me intently, it’s almost like he didn’t hear me.
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” He moves out of the way, and I hurry across to the bathroom.
I do my business and wash up, not letting anything in the room grab my attention. Least of all his shower curtain. HisChristmasshower curtain. A shudder ripples through me.
I won’t always be so affected, right?
Shoving the notion away, I exit the bathroom, Beckett standing outside the door.
“Should I add creeper to your list of possible professions?”
He cackles, and it rumbles his entire torso, now covered only by a T-shirt. Pulled taut across his chest, his biceps bulge. It’s a sight. Coupled with his black joggers, the man is the epitome of attractive.
“You hungry? I can make snacks.”
I consider his expression. It’s not exactly gleeful but gone is the angry man who stormed out earlier, resembling more of the man I first met. “Figured you were mad at me.”
“I was.” He shakes his head, a scowl trying to slip on his lips. “Nope, can’t go there yet. But I’m kinda hungry, and what kind of host would I be if I didn’t offer you some?”
“Do you often cook snacks for your guests this late at night?”
“If I had some and we were hungry, I suppose I would.”
Interesting.
“What did you have in mind? I didn’t get to eat many road trip snacks today for obvious reasons.”
“I’m kinda craving something chocolate. Brownies? Double fudge cookies? Chocolate lava cake?”
The last one breaks the resolve I’m trying hard to hold on to. “You’re going to eat chocolate lava cake in the middle of the night?”
“Hmm. I suppose it would be late by the time it was cooked and we were eating it. Brownies it is.” With his decision made, he turns on his bare feet and pads toward the kitchen.
