Page 117 of The Bad Wedding Date

They were changing for her, too.

Because that time in the shower… that felt like making love.

39

Charlotte

Imust have fallen asleep on Fraser’s warm chest later that night with my hair still damp and my legs entwined with his because the moment his phone vibrated on the bed beside him the next morning, it took me a few seconds to catch up with my reality. I’d slept in another hotel with Fraser. It was a brand new day, and we’d shared an intimate moment the night before that turned us both quiet once he’d carried me out of the shower and wrapped me up in a warm towel.

Breaking me from my daydream, Fraser spoke to whoever was on the call.

Sitting up completely, I shifted away, giving him room to talk. He moved to the edge of the bed, exposing his strong, broad back and the tattoos there, his scars, and the top of his incredibly tight and very naked butt.

The sight of him just sitting there had me hitching in a breath.

He wasn’t saying anything on the call, letting the other person speak freely, whoever it was.

If this was more trouble, I wasn’t ready for it. I didn’t want this bubble to burst—the one where the two of us stayed locked up in a different hotel room, making love in the shower, against the wall, among the soft, white sheets…

Making love? Jesus, Charlotte.

“That’s music to my ears, Ray,” Fraser said, sitting up straighter. “And you’re sure there’s no trail back to us? Good. Yeah, I want to see them for myself. I’ll need to make sure things are secure here first, but I’ll be there within the hour.”

Fraser ended the call, tossing the phone onto the bed beside him. He looked over his shoulder and offered me a half-smile that made my stomach somersault almost as much as the words he spoke next did.

“The guys who broke into your apartment,” he said. “We’ve got them.”

* * *

“Do you really have to go? If it’s over, it’s over. Let Ray or Dean or Wade or Joey do whatever it is you’re about to go and do to those guys.”

It was the first time I could recall sounding whiney and needy in my life, but as I watched Fraser dress into a fresh black T-shirt and black jeans, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him to stay with me more than I wanted to bask in the news that the guys who’d been inside my property had been caught.

Fraser looked around for his black boots before he found them and slipped them on, not bothering to tighten the laces. Since the call, he’d been moving around like a man on a mission, his energy easy to read.

He wanted to make them pay. It was the side of him I’d yet to see fully.

“Fraser,” I said, making his name sound like a plea.

He reached for his keys and finally looked up at me, brushing a casual hand through the longer lengths of his dirty blond hair. “Don’t say my name like that, Charlotte.” He paused. “I have to do this.”

“Why are you excited about it?” I pulled the bedsheet farther up my naked chest.

“Why am I excited about getting my hands on the men who broke into your apartment and left a picture of us both there next to a knife—a blatant threat?” He smirked as though it was a stupid question for me to have asked. “Damn, I have no idea.”

“Don’t look at me like you’re mocking me.”

His smile fell, and he studied me for a moment before he came closer, sinking a knee onto the mattress and reaching over to cup my cheek with one hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mock you, but I’mnotsorry about being happy that we’ve caught those arseholes.”

I pressed my palm over the hand he’d placed on my face. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Define stupid.”

“Fraser…”

With a soft chuckle, he placed a sweet kiss to my lips before he pulled back. “I’ll never ask you to be anybody but yourself. Please don’t ask me not to be who I am, either.”

“And who, exactly, are you?” I asked, searching his eyes.

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