Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
The B&B
“Oh, this is a good one,” I said, reaching for the bottle of wine to refill my empty glass. “Marilyn’s boyfriend gets freaked out about her family and dumps her . . . and she doesn’t understand why.”
Conked out in my bed.
I took a moment to study him.
He was tan because he spent time outdoors—well, obviously, he was a cowboy—but his angular structure softened in sleep, giving him almost a boyish, youthful appearance.
No . . . soft wasn’t right. He’d never be soft.
I reached for my phone on the nightstand and shot off a text to my best friend in New York.
Me
There’s a cowboy asleep in my bed.
Her reply came a few minutes later.
Wyn
You dog. Did you finally do it? Did you finally lose your virginity?
Me
No, it’s not like that
Wyn
what’s it like then? Can I call you? I need details.
Me
Can’t really call you right now since I don’t want to wake him up. But let’s just say fate has a funny sense of humor.
Wyn
Does she? Or is she a calculating bitch who likes to screw with the lives of mere mortals?
Me
Can it be both?
Wyn
Call me tomorrow and tell me everything.
Me
will do.
I didn’t have the heart to wake him up and tell him to go sleep in his own room, even though I knew I should.
Instead, I set the wine aside and shut off the TV. After I brushed my teeth, I crept to the bed and pulled down the coverlet. I doused the light and placed my glasses next to my cell on the nightstand.
The sound of Brooks’ quiet, easy breathing lulled me to sleep.
I was warm, and everything smelled like trees.
Did I go camping?
My lips curved into a smile as I sank deeper into the warmth at my side. I reached my hand out and it landed on something hard—something contoured. I felt around for a moment, my brain slowly coming to.
My eyes cracked open—
I was in bed with Brooks.
Who was awake.
And I was in the middle of a grope session.
“Morning,” he said quietly, his golden eyes staring at me.
I let out a garbled noise and hastily jerked my hand off him. Horror widened my eyes and terror made my heart kick against my rib cage. “Oh God. I’m so sorry! I didn’t expect—well, you—I don’t sleep with—”
I scrambled back, got tangled in the sheet, and hit the wooden floor in a heap of covers. A stream of creative blasphemies exploded from my lips.
“Are you okay?” Brooks asked, concern permeating his gravelly morning voice.
I let out a groan that was more embarrassment than pain. “Peachy.” When he was silent for a few moments, I asked, “Are you still here?”
“Yes.” Mirth saturated his tone.
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Come out from under the blanket before you suffocate.”
I gingerly poked my head out of my shroud and peered up. Brooks had moved to my side of the bed and was staring down at me.
He was close enough that even without my glasses, I could easily see the lines at the corners of his eyes crease in amusement as he smiled.
Brooks touched the bridge of my nose. “Freckles.”
His rough-skinned finger on my face made my insides gooey.
I extracted myself from the coverlet and scrabbled up from the floor. I snatched my glasses from the nightstand and looked anywhere but at him. My heart rate wouldn’t settle. Desire pulsed low in my belly.
“Why didn’t you wake me and make me go back to my room?” He sat up and ran a hand through his bed-head hair.
“I don’t know,” I lied. “You just looked really comfortable.”
And hot. Really freaking hot.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“A little after seven,” he said.
“Oh.” I frowned. “Aren’t you late for work?”
“Day off.”
“Lucky you.”
“Indeed,” he murmured.
“Okay, well, thanks for keeping me company last night.” After my dismissal, I gave an awkward wave and escaped into the bathroom, hastily closing the door behind me. I went to the sink and peered into the mirror.
Yikes.
I did not look fresh as a daisy.
I looked like a daisy that had been trampled, yanked out of the ground, and put through a grinder.
With a sigh, I grabbed my toothbrush. I was in the middle of brushing my teeth when I heard my phone ring in the other room.
I was prepared to let it go to voicemail, but then I heard Brooks’ low murmur.
Great. He was still here.
I washed my face and patted it dry. Steeling myself, I braced my shoulders and opened the bathroom door.
Brooks sat on the edge of the bed and held out my phone to me. “It was the tow company. I took care of it.”
I grasped the phone from him, our fingers brushing. An electric charge jumped between us.
My hand trembled. “Took care of what?”
“I told them where your car was and to take it to Sandusky’s Auto Shop.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Don’t worry about it. Milton’s on his way to get your car now. We can have breakfast and then head to Sandusky’s. It’s in Silver Springs. Huckleberry Hill doesn’t have an auto shop. Glasses,” he said, holding out his hand.
“What?”
“Your glasses. Give them to me. They’re filthy. I’ll clean them for you.”
“Were you this bossy yesterday?” I asked as I took off my glasses and gave them to him.
“Yes. You just didn’t notice. And you didn’t seem to mind me rescuing you.”
“It was either let you rescue me or sleep in the back of the car and hoof it to The Regal Beagle this morning.”
He handed my glasses back to me.
I slid them on my nose. “Oh. That’s better.”
He rose from the bed. “Meet you in about fifteen minutes. We’ll get breakfast. And before you bother protesting, I can hear your stomach rumbling.”