11. What Are You Looking At, Sweets?
What Are You Looking At, Sweets?
Mina
“ O h, shit.”
In my defense, I meant to keep that thought in my head, but it flew right out of my mouth the second I walked into our room and saw there was only one bed.
Not just any bed, either. This one is a four-poster masterpiece, complete with more pillows than I know what to do with and bedding that looks too fancy to touch, let alone sleep on.
Braden shoots me a cheeky grin as he places our bags in the corner. “Only one bed, huh?”
“I don’t know what my aunt was thinking.”
Braden leans against the dresser and crosses his arms over his chest, a smirk still playing on his mouth. “Maybe that we’re engaged and sexually active?”
My cheeks flame as I turn my attention to my suitcase. “I can sleep on the floor.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mina. No way will I let you sleep on the floor while I take the bed. I have a better idea.”
“Okay. ”
Braden walks to the bed and flops back on it. “This thing is huge. I’m pretty sure we’re both going to fit.”
Here’s where my confusion kicks in again. He’s making all these sexually charged statements, intimating… things.
But the last time I hinted at something, he rejected me.
I’m also sober, which isn’t helping my nerves or my overactive imagination.
Finally, there are my pajamas. Which is a whole other issue entirely.
Screw it. It’s either this or sleep naked.
I grab my nightclothes from the suitcase and motion toward the bathroom. “I’m going to jump in the shower.”
“No problem. I’m going to finish my whiskey and make a few calls.”
Twenty minutes later, I emerge from the steamy bathroom, all snuggly in my pajamas.
Braden’s reaction does not disappoint. He sputters his whiskey the moment he sees me.
“Go ahead, say it.” I throw up my hands in resignation, fully aware I look ridiculous.
A sweet smile replaces the humor as his eyes drift over my body. “You look adorable. Are those elephants?”
I finger one of the pink elephants decorating my fleece pajamas. “Yes. And llamas.”
“Hmm.”
“I wasn’t exactly going for a sexy look. Imagine your face if I walked out in lingerie.”
His eyes lock with mine. “I wouldn’t be laughing.”
“Great. So now I feel and look ridiculous.” I march to my suitcase, safely stowing my toiletries bag inside.
“Can I say something?” Braden pats the bed beside him.
I trudge over and perch on the edge of the bed, watching him expectantly. “What?”
My only ask, God, is that he doesn’t bring up the garden incident, because I do not want to rehash that personal nightmare .
“You look better without all the makeup,” Braden says, dragging a finger along my cheek. “Not that you didn’t look good earlier, but this is more you.”
“You mean I look like I’m twelve, complete with elephant-llama pajamas, no makeup, and a ponytail?”
Braden shakes his head, his brow furrowing. “Trust me, I do not think you look twelve. At all. You’re naturally beautiful.”
I fidget with the edge of a throw pillow, unsure how to respond. Yes, I’ve been called beautiful before. Many times. But with Braden, it’s different because I want him to see me— all of me—and still think that.
It didn’t work out too well the last time. Hence the ridiculous pajamas.
I don’t actually own lingerie. Never needed it before, and at this rate, I probably never will.
After a few beats, Braden stands and grabs his bag, heading for the recently vacated bathroom.
“There’s a bit of whiskey left if you’d like to finish it.”
“Thanks.”
Once again, he recognizes the anxiety creeping into my aura and snuffs it out without ever directly addressing it.
I grab the glass and take a swallow, my eyes darting to every corner of the room before landing on the bed.
What to do. What to do.
Then I notice the pile of throw pillows strewn across the mattress.
This might work.
If I can’t put up emotional walls, at least I can build a physical one.
Braden walks out of the bathroom ten minutes later and regards my handiwork with a smirk. “What in the world are you doing? What’s with the pillow wall?”
I tuck a final pillow in by the foot of the bed and shrug. “This way you have your side, and I have mine. ”
It’s then I notice his attire—or lack thereof.
“You’re naked.”
Braden glances down at his body and points to his boxers. “Not quite.”
But close enough.
Holy hell.
The man is so beautiful up close. I mean, I’ve seen him shirtless before, but now it’s the full picture—and it’s lethal. Broad chest dusted with hair, ink sprawling across his torso and down his arms, muscles for days, and a sharp V disappearing beneath the waistband of those black boxer briefs.
He is sex personified, and I, in my fluffy llama pajamas, am the antithesis.
And the effect he’s having on my body is impossible to ignore. Once again, I feel like a Southern belle, ready to swoon at his feet.
In llama pajamas .
Braden flicks one pillow and shoots me a side-eye. “Do you kick all night long or something? Will I require this as armor?”
I shake my head and take another drink of whiskey. “No, I’m a great sleeping partner.”
Did not mean to say it like that.
A hint of mischief flickers across Braden’s face. “Really?”
Another flush creeps up my neck as I wave him off and crawl into bed. “Actually, I don’t know what the hell I do when I sleep. Guess you’ll let me know.”
I lie down and pull the blanket up to my chin, but my gaze never strays from Braden, who hasn’t moved from the foot of the bed.
And the longer he stands there, the more I ogle him.
God help me—I’m starting to think that pillow wall might not be enough.
Braden leans his hands on the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on me. “What are you looking at, sweets? ”
He knows damn well what I’m looking at, but instead of his sexy tone making me feel giddy, my brain replays the other night—letting mortification mix with the emotional intoxication.
Stupid brain.
“Your tattoos. I haven’t seen some of them.”
“You haven’t seen a lot of them.” He moves closer, settling next to me on the bed.
“How long did the one on your back take?”
Give me some credit. At least it’s a valid question. The tattoo covers the length of his back, and despite the size, it resembles a photograph with all its intricacies.
“It’s so realistic.”
“Ash and Zane worked on it together. I wanted something that represented a phoenix rising.”
“I like it. It’s beautiful. Really well done—all your pieces are.”
“No, they’re not,” Braden replies with a snort. “Lucky for me, I know some really great tattoo artists who could cover my regrettable early pieces.”
He pulls one leg up onto the bed and leans forward to brush a lock of hair from my face. “Do you have any ink?”
“No. Although… I’ve considered getting one.”
“Well, if you do, let me know. I’ve been told I’m pretty good with a needle.”
I focus my gaze on the blanket. “I’m sure you’re good with most things, Braden.”
Mouth, shut up.
I motion toward his side of the bed—well, the other side of the now-infamous pillow wall.
“Are you ready for bed? No problem if you’re not. I can sleep through anything.”
“I’m ready,” Braden says with a yawn. “But first…”
He yanks back the blanket and glares at the pillows lining the center of the mattress. Then he tosses them off the bed, one by one. “Better. Scoot over.”
“You want this side?” I stutter.
“I do.”
“Okay.” I inch across the mattress, but gasp when Braden grabs me about the waist and hauls me flush against him. “What are you doing?”
“Snuggling with you. Is that okay?” His hand drifts under my shirt to caress my belly, warm and gentle. He doesn’t climb higher—and I’m totally torn if I want him to or not. “I need to say something else, Mina.”
I flip over to face him. I’m trembling way too much from his proximity, and I need a few inches between us.
Time to deflect with humor. “Let me guess. You find me irresistible in my elephant-llama pajamas, and you were too afraid to say so.”
Braden snickers, tucking his arm under his head. “Absolutely. I’m going to buy myself a pair tomorrow.”
“Copycat.”
He traces a line from my shoulder to my arm.
Even in the dark, I feel him watching me.
“The truth is—I know you’re scared about this weekend.
And I know you feel like you’re out of your league.
But Mina… you have more class in your little finger than all three of them combined.
You are more deserving of this dance studio than any person I know, and we’ll convince your aunt by the end of the weekend. ”
As usual, he sees right to the heart of the matter, and the heart of me. “I don’t like how she treated you tonight.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle her. But I’ll be damned if she bullies you.”
I sniffle and blink back tears. “No one has ever protected me before.”
“No one will hurt you as long as I’m around. You get that?”
“Got it.” I dare to run a finger along his bearded jaw, remembering how good it felt against my skin. “Good night, Braden.”
I press a soft kiss to his mouth and feel his breath hitch—but he doesn’t pull back. He leans in, holding me tighter. No pressure. No claim for more.
And in that moment, it’s exactly what I need.