Page 90 of Cruel Tides

“Just her?” Annoyance flashed over Leander’s face. He crossed his arms. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I only have one bedroom,” Barren said simply, seeming unbothered by the dangerous look in Leander’s eyes.

Barren flicked on the bedroom light, revealing a carefully made bed standing as the centerpiece of the room. Crisp, white linens draped across what I guessed was a king-sized mattress, devoid of any creases or imperfections. Barren waited for me to enter before easing the door shut behind us.

“This is where you’ll be staying,” he said, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

WhereI’llbe staying? I looked around the room, almost blinded by its perfection. No—there was no way. Each meticulously tucked corner and precisely aligned edge of the sheets seemed to stand out, mocking me. There was no way I could ever return this bed to Barren’s standards if I dared to touch it.

I took a step back. “No, I-I couldn’t.”

Barren’s dark eyes jumped to mine, and there was something new there. Hurt, perhaps. “No?” His shoulders suddenly didn’t seem so broad. “I see.”

His jaw worked as he turned away, a gloom seeming to settle in the air, as if my rejection of the room was a rejection ofhim.

Wait—no. That wasn’t what I meant at all. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” I blurted, desperate to fix this—whateverthiswas. “It’s just… your sheets.” I gestured to them, not sure what else to say.

“Of course,” he uttered with barely a whisper breath. Was it me, or did he sound evenmoreoffended?

With a jerky sweep of his arm, he started stripping the bed, yanking up and destroying all those perfect folds. “I will get you new sheets,” he declared, his voice hoarse. “Clean ones. Ones I haven’t touched.”

I stared at him, dazed, as he rolled everything up into a pile. He looked at the blindingly white bedsheets with a curled lip, as if they were the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen.

What had my careless words done to him? This wasn’t what I’d meant at all.

“Barren.” I came up and put my hand on his arm, stopping him before he had a chance to jerk the mattress protector off too. “Stop.Please.”

I waited to make sure I had his attention before I continued. “It isn’t that I think your bed isn’t clean. It’s that it’s…” I paused to bite my lip, wondering if he would think I was disgusting. “Tooclean. I could never keep your room looking like this if I stayed in here.”

His eyes lingered on where my fingers rested on top of his arm, making me think twice about choosing to touch him while admitting what a horrible slob I was. “That’s it?” His throat bobbed as his eyes flicked up to mine. “That’s your reason?”

I nodded, my voice feeling weak as I added, “I’m worried you’ll think I’m disgusting.”

His jaw clenched. “Never.” For a moment, he paused. “I’ll get you new sheets. Ball them up when you’re done with them. Throw them in the ocean,” he said. “I do not care how this room looks as long as you’re comfortable in it, so stay here.”

His shoulders broadened as he straightened back to full height, pulling all the sheets with him. “Stay in my bed.”

“Oh,” I squeaked out. “Okay.”

He nodded, and I watched, stunned, as he left the room, taking the old sheets with him.

He didn’t care how his room looked, as long as I was comfortable in it? Somehow, he’d said exactly what I needed to hear to feel at ease in this place.His bedroom.

“Stay in my bed.”My skin heated as his gruff words played back in my head. His bed sure looked comfortable, but where would he sleep? Where wouldany of themsleep? It wasn’t like there was enough room on the couch for all three of them, plus Laverne.

My eyes settled on the sizable mattress. I placed my palm on top of it, testing its firmness. It would be a tight fit, sure, but maybe…

No.No. Bad Claira. There was no way the guys would be okay with that, and the bedframe would surely break with all four of us on it.

Well, what if…

I grunted, ignoring the warmth pooling in my belly as I tore myself away from the mattress. My eyes fell on the top of Barren’s dresser, and, of course, there wasn’t a single speck of dust on it or its mirror. Then my attention was drawn to a silver chain in a glass bowl on the dresser.

Barren didn’t seem like the type to wear jewelry. I walked over and hesitantly reached out to touch it.

Though it was his room, his belongings, I couldn’t resist picking up the necklace. A delicate silver cage slid to the bottom of the chain, enclosing a small pink pearl within.

Pink?How odd.

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