19. Elouise
Elouise
I only have time to nod my reply before Beckett is ducking back out of my tent. With a quick pull he closes the zipper, and then he’s gone.
Just like that.
Burying my face in my hands I let out a groan. Which is worse, embarrassment or mortification? It’s gotta be mortification, right? That’s gotta be what I’m feeling.
What in the hell is even happening tonight?!
First, Creepy Dad Adam barges into my tent. I heard what Beckett said to him, but that had to be a load of crap. Right? No one mistakes one tent for another. Not sober.
A shiver runs down my arms and I shoot a glare at my bag with the vodka.
Crossing my arms back over my perky as fuck nipples I silently curse the little bottle of booze.
Weren’t you supposed to keep me warm?!
I lift my arms and look down, confirming my current state.
Yep. Nips were on full display for Beckett.
The one bright side is that I think Beckett interrupted Adam before he got an eyeful of my almost naked breasts. Beckett himself is a different story. He got two eyefuls. And wasn’t even being subtle about looking .
But then he took off, and I’m not sure what offended him more, my nipples, or my sleeping bag.
The tent zipper starts to drag up again, but Beckett’s voice filters through the fabric before I have time to freak out, “It’s me.”
“Oh, um, come in.” I murmur, unsure why he’s back.
When the flap is unzipped, I expect to see Beckett, but instead a pile of blankets gets tossed inside.
“Uh…”
What is happening?
Beckett steps through the opening, ignoring my unasked question, and zipping the tent shut behind him – leaving his boots outside.
He’s hunched over in the low space, and I have literally zero intelligent things to say about this new and bizarre development.
Beckett grabs the bottom corner of my sleeping bag. “Out.”
“What?”
He tugs it again, “You need to get out of this piece of shit bag, Smoky.”
Smoky.
I refuse to overthink the fact that he’s given me a nickname.
“Elouise,” his look is pure exasperation, “out.”
Eyeing the pile of blankets, I figure whatever he has planned will be a lot warmer than my current situation, so I unzip myself and roll out. Taking only a second to think WTF at my zipper magically working again.
Maneuvering around each other, I scoot into the corner, and watch with fascination as Beckett creates an honest-to-god bed.
I don’t know what sort of magic camping store he shops at, but he has a large pad that goes from flat to two inches thick in a blink of an eye.
He then layers on a couple of the blankets I’d brought to soften the bed even more.
Then with a few quick zips he connects two large sleeping bags to make one giant one, leaving a side open – assumedly for easy entry.
And lastly, he spreads two thick wool blankets over the whole pile.
I’m currently shivering, and it looks like heaven.
Sitting back on his heels, Beckett lifts the open corner. “Get in.”
Not needing to be told twice, I pretend my boobs aren’t jiggling all over the damn place as I crawl past him into the glorious cocoon .
After a few adjustments, I end up on my side, facing him, with the sealed sides at my back and feet. My muscles immediately start to relax, feeling a hundred times warmer already.
“Thanks for…” my words trail off when Beckett shifts back into a crouch and starts to undo his jeans.
Sweet slutty camp dreams, is this really happening?!
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice up an octave.
“I can’t sleep in jeans, Babe.”
Babe?
I shake that off.
“But… I mean… you can’t…”
He shoves the jeans down his thighs and every synapse in my brain misfires.
Thick, muscular, hairy Man Thighs. Good god. They’re perfect.
Ignoring my heart attack, he pushes his jeans off the rest of the way, and… holy hell … His… ohmygod I can’t believe I’m seeing this! His dick is pressing against the front of his dark red boxer briefs, creating the perfect outline.
He’s not hard. Not entirely. But it’s there. It’s right fucking there. And it’s… big. It’s big and thick and is begging for attention.
The sound of his throat clearing sends my cheeks blazing.
Rolling, I faceplant into my pillow.
Beckett just caught me staring at his… junk.
The cushioned pad shifts beneath me as he climbs into the little bed.
Our bed.
Is this really happening?
Waiting until I know he’s covered by the blankets; I roll back onto my side and open an eye to peek at him, “So, you’re sleeping here?”
Beckett settles onto his back, turning his head to look at me, “Well it’s here or on the bare floor of my tent.” His eyes never leave mine, “That okay with you, Lou?”
My chest expands at his use of my childhood nickname. Only family and close friends still call me that.
“I’m okay with it.”
He keeps staring, “Nothing’s gonna happen. ”
His statement sounds like nothing but the truth, and it should be reassuring, but it stings. Just a little.
I try to agree, “Oh, I know you’d never…”
“You think I’ve never?” He quirks a brow.
I have to swallow and look away, forcing myself to not think about all the things he’s done before.
“I just… I mean, not with me.”
“No. I’ve never with you,” his voice is low. Deep.
Is it hot in here? Did something catch fire? Other than my panties?
“Elouise.”
“Yeah?” I raise my gaze back up to meet his.
“Go to sleep.”
I close my eyes, “Okay.”
I don’t open my eyes at Beckett’s chuckle.
I don’t open my eyes when I feel him moving.
I don’t even open my eyes when I feel the warmth of his body press against mine.
And I definitely don’t open my eyes, when he puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me firmly into his side.
My body moves into his like this isn’t the first time we’ve been this close.
My breathing slows like every nerve ending I have isn’t on fire.
My head nestles into that perfect spot on his shoulder like it’s laid there every night.
My eyes don’t open until I hear the click of the lantern. Only when darkness fills the tent, do I open my eyes. Just to make sure this is real.