Chapter 7
Garen
My eyes flutter open to the dim room, rain still pouring outside. I yawn and stretch, and then the memory hits me. Bellamy is sleeping downstairs in my guest room. I sit up with a start.
Normally, I like to be alone in the mornings. Granted, I like to be alone most of the time, morning or not. But the thought of having breakfast with the curvy shifter excites me in a way I haven't felt in years. It surprises me.
I jump out of bed, hop in the shower, and throw on flannel pajama bottoms and an old concert T-shirt before padding downstairs. Bellamy is sitting by the fire, flipping through my coffee-table book on the Lord of the Rings movies. She looks up when I walk in, and her smile makes my chest tighten.
"I love this movie series," she says, and I try to ignore my stomach flipping at her enthusiasm.
"Looks like we're stuck inside again unless you want to risk heading out to your car in this," I say, nodding toward the window.
She quickly shakes her head. "No. I don't trust myself driving down the mountain in this weather. Is that okay? I don't want to be a burden."
"Nothing about you is a burden," I say, turning on my heel as my cheeks catch fire. I hurry into the kitchen to cook breakfast.
We spend the morning lazily in front of the fire, Bellamy nose-deep in the Lord of the Rings book while I quietly work on my latest epic fantasy. The fire crackles, keeping us cozy, and when lunch rolls around, I suggest homemade mushroom pizza.
"Are you serious?" she says.
"Why? Do you not like mushrooms?"
"No. I love mushrooms, but you make homemade pizza?"
"I actually have an outdoor pizza oven."
She grins at me, shaking her head.
"I'm not going to ask you to make pizza in the rain."
"Don't worry. My back patio is covered," I say, standing.
Later, when I come in with the delicious-smelling pie, I call out to her as I place it on the counter.
"I thought maybe we could have a movie marathon. I have the Lord of the Rings trilogy on DVD."
Bellamy squeals in the living room. I grin to myself as I slice the pizza.
"I take it that's a yes?" I call out.
"Yes! That's a fabulous idea," she says with a laugh.
Balancing a couple of bottles of beer, plates, napkins, and the pizza, I walk into the living room, putting everything down on the coffee table.
"I have both the theatrical versions and the extended versions," I say.
Bellamy snorts.
"I think it's too late for us to start an extended version marathon right now," she says.
"Yeah. You're probably right. The theatrical ones should end just before ten," I say.
We settle down as the credits roll. I take pleasure in hearing the soft moans of delight each time Bellamy takes a bite of pizza.
"You are really a damn talented chef," she says with a sigh.
"Thanks. It's just a hobby."
"Well, it's an amazing hobby. Your cooking is fantastic."
The storm continues as we watch the movies.
We take brief breaks in between, but for the most part, we hang out, chilling and nerding out as we watch.
She is clearly a huge Legolas fan, leaning forward in her seat during the Helm's Deep battle.
When Bellamy catches me watching her, she giggles with a shrug.
"What can I say? I have a crush on an elf, and I would love to learn archery someday," she says with a sheepish grin.
"I could see you with a bow and arrow." I say, and in the fire's light, I'm pretty sure I see her cheeks redden at my words.
I don't know what makes me say it, but the words tumble out before I can stop them.
"I write epic fantasy. Under a pen name. Only my sister and her wife know."
Bellamy's eyes widen. "Wait, seriously?"
"Seriously. And I have no idea why I just told you that."
She grins at me. "Your secret is safe with me, mountain man."
At the end of Return of the King, with the credits rolling, both of us lean back on the couch with satisfied sighs. Looking over at the curvy shifter, I catch her grinning up at me.
"What?" I ask.
"Oh, just... you're such a down-to-earth guy," she starts to say, then presses her lips together, her hazel eyes widening.
"Okay?" I ask, confused.
She looks at me with slight embarrassment and says, "Well, I mean, you're obviously insanely rich; this house is freaking amazing."
A laugh bursts out of my mouth.
"It doesn't bother you, does it? The money?"
"No. Why would it? It's not like you're a pompous ass," she says.
My body heats at her words. "Not a pompous ass," I repeat, hearing the flirt in my voice.
Bellamy shakes her head. "No. You seem pretty damn great, actually."
We look at each other for an intense second, and then suddenly we're both lunging forward, lips crashing together.
Our hands explore each other as she presses her body against mine.
She tastes of red wine and salted pretzels, and I relish the feel of her curves.
The storm rages outside, but my focus is entirely on this gorgeous woman and her tongue exploring my mouth.