Page 20 of Pretend You Love Me
“Fine. Make a list of what you need.”
“Okay.”
“Follow me,” he says. He opens a door by the kitchen, and I peer in. “Pantry. Deep Freeze. Extra Fridge. Laundry Room.”
I thought it was going to be a closet, but it’s a room bigger than my bedroom.
“My cabin doesn’t have laundry either, so I’ll be in here too.”
“Do you want me to do your laundry?” I ask.
“No,” he snaps so loudly I jump.
“No, thank you,” he repeats softer. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Okay.”
“Dining room, living room.” He points around. “Remote’s over by the TV.”
I peer into each room as we walk past.
“Here’s your room,” he says, opening a door. I follow him inside.
“Woah.” I step inside the master bedroom. Huge windows line one wall overlooking the lake. There’s a fireplace in the center of the other wall. A king size-four-poster bed stands in the middle of the room.
“I don’t need something this big,” I say, my eyes are still on the bed. His gaze catches mine, and I feel my face redden. I didn’t mean the bed specifically. I clear my throat. “The room...it’s too much.”
“It’s not,” he says, walking toward the bathroom. “Your bath. There’s nothing in the closet or dressers. Use whatever you need.”
I peek into the bathroom. When I see there’s a deep soaking tub, I almost break out into a happy dance. This is way nicer than the place I’d originally booked - well, the pictures of the fake place that is.
I’m so sore from my little crash. Nothing sounds better than a long soak in that tub right now. I realize I’m staring at the tub like I want to make out with it.
“You know...” he says, opening a cabinet. “Oh, here.”
He puts a bag of Epsom salts on the counter. “Epsom salt bath will help with your injuries.”
I feel my face redden. I don’t like that he’s able to read my mind. I also don’t like that both of us are thinking about me in the tub right now.
He clears his throat.
“Let me show you the rest of the house.”
I’m relieved to leave the bedroom.
As we are walking down the hall, he points into a room. “Library.”
He’s blowing right past it, but I stop. “What?”
“Library, Ginger. Ever heard of one?”
I ignore him and step inside. The entire room is wall-to-wall bookshelves all the way to the ceiling.
“Oh good, there’s even a ladder thing likeBeauty and the Beast,” I whisper.
“Don’t tell me you really have a princess fetish?” he says, following me into the room.
Without looking at him, I run my hand over the ladder. “I guess that would make you the Beast in this scenario,” I mumble.
