Page 7 of His True North (Shattered Cove 5)

“Not really.”

“I’ll show you where you can put that.” She motioned to his bag. Pulling her suitcase behind her, she led him past a door, explaining it was the bathroom, and over to a set of stairs.

He gripped the handle of her suitcase, his hand grazing hers. A bolt of energy zinged up his arm. He swallowed as his body heated.

Her gaze met his as she tugged her pink bottom lip into her mouth. “Thanks.”

She continued upwards, her round ass right in his line of view. His cock hardened at the sight of her curves leading him to what he guessed was their bedroom. That ass was going to be the death of him. Did she have to wear these leggings that left nothing to his imagination? They were so tight, highlighting the fact that there was no way she could possibly be wearing any underwear.

Finn pressed his hand against the growing erection in his pants, hoping to god she didn’t turn around and see.

Our bedroom. As in, the bed he shared with this woman. Nerves twisted in his gut. Arousal heated his body. He may not have remembered her, but his body seemed to. If his dick had his way, he’d be inside the woman right now. But that felt wrong. She was pregnant, after all. Can pregnant women even have sex? He shook his head, trying to rid the thoughts from his mind. His shoulders bunched as he lifted the weight of their luggage up the steps behind her. She passed the first closed door and pointed to the second. “This is the other bathroom.”

“What’s in there?” He motioned to the first one they’d skipped.

She looked away and then back to him. “It’s the baby’s room—or it will be.”

He rested his hand on the knob and turned. Taking a fortifying breath, he pushed it open. A box with a picture of a crib on it lay stacked against the wall with a window. A rocking chair sat in the corner, as well as a few other pieces of furniture and boxes. His head swam. This was all too much. A baby? He was going to have a baby?

“The bedroom is this way.” Charli must have sensed his panic, because she shut the door and turned away from him.

She walked through the entrance to the master bedroom. The room was neat and tidy. Two big, matching dressers sat against the walls. One large window opened to the backyard. A queen-sized bed with a reclaimed pallet headboard sat front and center. The white comforter looked soft. The whole house carried notes of Charli’s scent, but it was strongest in here: honey and amber. Sweet and rich. It was intoxicating and comforting. That must mean something.

“You can just leave the suitcase there against the wall. I’ll unpack tomorrow,” she said.

He did as she said and lowered his bag next to hers. His gaze swept over the room once more, seeking anything that might jar his memory. His eyes landed on hers. Dark pools of uncertainty stared back at him.

He stepped forward, out of instinct maybe? He wanted to be closer to her, even if he didn’t know her.

“Finn?” Her voice came out breathy. His hardness poked against the zipper of his pants. Charli’s eyes darkened as her tongue swept over her bottom lip. His stomach muscles tensed to keep him from bending down to kiss her—which was crazy, because he barely knew her. And last he remembered, he had a girlfriend. Laura. What had happened to her anyway?

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” His voice came out gruffer than he’d intended.

She winced. Hurt flashed in her eyes.

Shit. He was an asshole. “I’m just . . .” Scared. I’ve never slept next to a woman. “Tired.”

Her mouth opened and closed as she blinked rapidly, her eyes growing glassy.

Great job, idiot. You made her cry.

“O-oh. Okay. Of course. I . . . I’ll get you some blankets and pillows set up.” She stepped past him, her scent winding around him, lighting him up.

His hand shot out to her arm. Her face tilted to his. Energy crackled between them. Fire licked his body from their connection. “Th—thank you.” He cleared his throat and let her go.

“You’re welcome.” She offered him a small, watery smile. She opened a closet door and pulled out a sheet and comforter. “The dresser on the left is yours.”

He opened the first drawer, finding boxers and socks. The second was full of T-shirts. “Where are my pajamas?”

She lifted the blankets and pillows in her arms, her gaze raking up his body. A slight pink colored her cheeks. “You don’t usually wear anything to bed.”

So some things hadn’t changed. “Oh.”

“But you have a couple pairs of sleep pants in the closet for when we have company. Top shelf.” She nodded to the door behind her before leaving the room.

Finn found a set of black-and-red plaid fleece pajama bottoms and slipped into the bathroom to change. He’d always been hot-blooded; there was no need for a T-shirt.

After grabbing his toiletries bag, he brushed his teeth before going back down to the living room. Charli’s head was buried in her hands as she sat on the blanket spread out on the sofa. Her shoulders slumped. He wished he had the right words to say to comfort her. He may not remember much of her, but he didn’t like to see her unhappy.

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