Page 50 of No More Billionaires

Larson and I were grownups. We were professionals. We were both beyond sleep-deprived.

We could sleep side-by-side for one night.

No problem.

After draping the quilt around me to hide my underwear, I slowly climbed the ladder to the loft.

The outline of his body was barely visible, stretched out on the mattress. His bare feet hung off the end, his bare chest rose and fell softly.

He was asleep. Thank God. I really didn’t think I could withstand the closeness of pillow talk with him tonight.

I crawled gingerly onto the mattress and oh-so-delicately draped the quilt over us both.

For just a second, the sound of his breathing stopped. Then he rolled to his back, and the peaceful sound resumed. I realized my own breathing had stopped momentarily, just as my heart had started beating in staccato rhythm.

I lay very still beside him, trying to calm down and relax. This whole scenario, the tiny fire-lit cabin, the makeshift dinner and cooperative bath-preparation, the cozy sleeping loft with a double-bed mattress—it was all a bit too intimate for me.

And Larson was just so… so… my eyes adjusted to the lower light up in the loft as I watched him sleep. He looked so young with that peaceful expression on his face. So still. He was beautiful.

My fingers itched to reach out and glide over his profile, touch his lips, caress his warm-looking chest and shoulders, play in his messy air-dried hair.

I rolled to my side, facing away from him and willing myself to sleep, at the same time feeling hyper-alert to his every sound and movement in the bed.

He’s off-limits, Kenley. He’s not what you want.

Why was it so hard to convince myself of what I already knew?

SEVENTEEN

Stranded

I opened my eyes to see wood.

Wood everywhere, above my head, wood planks on the wall, wood railings when I turned to the side—oh, I was in the cabin.

I blinked dazedly at the bright sun streaming in through the uncovered windows—it looked like midday. Sitting abruptly, I turned to the other side of the bed, coming fully awake in an instant.

Larson wasn’t there. Neither was the quilt that had covered us when I’d fallen asleep last night. It was bunched at the bottom of the mattress.

It wasn’t hard to figure out why. The loft space was roasting hot—I—or we—must have pushed the blanket off during the night when the wood stove had finally managed to heat the entire cabin.

Now I lay on the plain white sheet in only my pink panty-and-bra set. Had Larson seen me like this while I slept? And where was he?

I lifted up on one elbow and peered down on the cabin’s main floor. I didn’t see him. He must be in the bathroom, or—

The cabin’s front door opened, and Larson came in with an armful of logs. He looked up and immediately caught my eyes.

“Good morning, or should I say good day?” He gave me a wide grin.

An I’ve-seen-you-nearly-naked-while-you-slept grin.

I flopped down onto my back again, lying flat so he couldn’t see any more than he already had. I worked to make my voice sound normal.

“What time is it? How long have you been up?”

“It’s almost noon. I woke up earlier, but I just stayed in bed a while so I wouldn’t disturb you. Finally, I couldn’t stand… couldn’t stay in bed anymore and I got up. Did you sleep well?”

So, he’d been awake for a while. In bed beside me. Awake.

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