Chapter Eleven
Ghost
“Come on,” I say, taking her gently by the waist and steering her back toward the common room. “Let me show you the rest of the place.”
She twists to look over her shoulder with a teasing grin. “Do I get my own suite, too? Just point me to the one with the biggest closet and the best bathroom, and I’ll take it.”
A chuckle slips out before I can stop it. “Noted,” I reply, leading her back through the shockingly clean common room toward the far hallway that leads to crew quarters and our suite—the one with all the features she just mentioned.
Her brow arches at that, but she doesn’t argue, her eyes flicking over the open-plan space as we walk past. The warm light of the recessed fixtures highlights the cozy but modern furnishings—the plush sectional in the living area, the oversized island surrounded by mismatched but comfortable barstools, and the sleek kitchen beyond. The smell of fresh pine lingers, faint but grounding.
We reach the far end of the hallway, and I stop to key in my code. “041583,” I say, glancing at her. “You’ll need it for the whole clubhouse. My office, too.”
Her head tilts, and her eyes widen slightly. “That’s my birthday,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“Luckiest day of my life,” I murmur, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her stunned lips. She blinks, speechless, and I savor the rare moment. Smiling, I press a softer kiss to the tip of her nose before taking her hand again.
“Come on,” I say, leading her further into the suite.
The entry opens directly to the bedroom, dominated by a massive king-sized bed with soft gray bedding and a hint of cedar and pine in the air. The room is sleek and minimal, just the essentials—perfect for someone who values function over clutter, like me, though something tells me my life is about to get a whole hell of a lot more cluttered. And I couldn’t be happier about it.
“This is the main area,” I say, gesturing to the bed. “Closet’s on the right. Bathroom’s on the left. Check them out.”
Her face lights up, and she lets out a delighted squeal. “Biggest closet and bathroom? Sold!” She spins on her heel, darting toward the bathroom door first, then freezes halfway and pivots toward the closet. She does this two more times, practically vibrating with indecision, before finally making a beeline for the bathroom.
“Oh. My. God. LOOK AT THIS!” Her shout echoes off the polished tiles as she rushes in. I lean in the doorway, arms crossed, laughing as she sprawls, fully clothed, in the oversized tub and starts attempting snow angels on the smooth surface.
“Am I ever going to get you out of there?” I ask, still chuckling.
“Lord willing, and the creek don't rise!” she shouts back, snuggling into the empty tub with a satisfied sigh.
Shaking my head, I step forward and scoop her up, tossing her over my shoulder. She squeals in protest, but her laughter rings clear as I carry her back to the bedroom and toss her gently onto the king-sized bed. She bounces once, her hair a halo around her face, her expression stuck somewhere between shock and delight.
“You’re impossible,” I tease, heading to the closet and grabbing one of my shirts. When I turn back, her hands are fisted in the comforter, a trace of unease flickering across her features. This side of her—the quiet vulnerability—hits me harder than anything else. She’s always so vibrant and full of life, but right now, she seems smaller, weighed down by something I can’t see but desperately want to take from her.
I kneel in front of her, placing a hand over her heart, letting its steady rhythm guide me. “Trust me, Bunny,” I say softly, meeting her gaze. “I won’t hurt you. Ever. Now, lift your arms.”
She hesitates for a moment, then takes a deep breath and raises them slowly. I keep my movements gentle, sliding her shirt up and over her head, careful not to rush. As soon as it’s off, I slip one of mine over her instead. It’s soft, well-worn, and falls almost to her knees.
Her wide eyes lock on mine as I step back, her posture relaxing slightly. “Better?” I ask, my voice low.
She nods, a small, shy smile tugging at her lips.
I pull back the covers. “Climb in,” I say, and she does without hesitation, settling into the bed’s inviting embrace.
On the other side of the room, I strip off my shirt and jeans, leaving on my boxers for her comfort. When I slide into bed beside her, she tenses for just a moment before melting against me as I wrap an arm around her waist.
“Goodnight, Firecracker,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. She sighs, and I close my eyes, determined to show her she’ll always be safe here with me.