Chapter 9
A snow day is only bad news if you forgot to run to the liquor store.
Scarlett
I roll over and reach for Weston. My eyes fly open when my fingers meet empty sheets. I flip up the covers but he’s not hiding under there. The bed is empty. Where is he? Did he leave the cabin and I slept through his departure?
I scan the room. The bathroom door is hanging open. He’s not in there.
A pan clatters on the stove. Mystery solved. Weston’s in the kitchen.
I crawl out of bed and squeal when my naked feet touch the floor. “Yikes. Cold.” I dance toward the dresser and my breasts jiggle. My feet aren’t the only naked body part.
I never sleep naked. I always get dressed after sex. But after Weston and I finished, I passed out and didn’t have a chance to put on clothes. I’ve never passed out after sex before.
I quickly don a thick pair of socks and some sweats before leaving the bedroom. When I reach the kitchen, Weston glances over his shoulder at me and smiles. I could get used to those blue eyes lighting up every time he sees me. I could fall in love with this guy. Full stop.
Hold up, Scarlett. You’re not falling in love with a guy after spending two days with him. Don’t confuse sex and love.
“Good morning. I hope you’re hungry.”
My stomach rumbles in response. “My stomach says yes. What are you making?”
“Omelets. I hope you don’t mind I used your eggs.”
I wave away his concern. “Use all the eggs you want.”
“Good because I may have dropped one on the floor.”
I glance at the floor and notice there are pieces of eggshell still stuck to the wood. I find a cloth and clean them up. “This is only one egg?”
Weston scratches his chin. “It might have been two.”
I shake my head. “I’m supposed to be the klutz, remember?”
“I’m not a klutz, but I did forget to light some candles and ran into the counter in the dark.”
“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
He bats his eyelashes. “If I did, will you kiss it better?”
I’ll kiss all his boo-boos better. I can’t wait for the chance to get my mouth on his body. I could trace his abs with my tongue. He also has a tattoo on his shoulder I need to explore.
I clear my throat and force those thoughts away. Weston is a one night only kind of guy. I might think I could fall in love with him, but he’s only here for a good time.
“You’re a menace,” I tease.
“But a fun menace.”
“And modest to boot!”
“No reason to be modest in certain areas.” He winks.
My cheeks flame. Nope. There’s no reason to be modest. Weston knows what he’s doing in the bedroom. And, boy, did I profit from his knowledge this morning.
“Nobody likes a braggart.”
“Really?” He steps toward me. “You didn’t enjoy this morning?”
My face is officially on fire, but I soldier on. I’m not the shy bookworm I was in high school. “I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy this morning. I said nobody likes a man who brags about his conquests.”
“Conquest?” He palms my neck. “Is that what you think you are?”
My nose wrinkles. Of course, I do. What else would I— I sniff. “Is something burning?”
“Shit.” Weston rushes to the stove. “I think the eggs are ruined.”
I peek over his shoulder. “Are those supposed to be omelets?”
“I may have exaggerated about the eggs being omelets. Scrambled eggs is more accurate.”
I study the burnt pieces of onion and the blackened bits of eggs. “I have cereal.”
“I wanted to make you breakfast.”
“I appreciate the effort but maybe stick to yogurt in the future when you want to make a woman breakfast.”
“I don’t usually make breakfast for a woman.”
My eyes widen and my pulse skips. Am I special? Does Weston think of me more than another one night stand? He did fight back when I said I was a conquest. Maybe there’s hope for us.
I place the pan in the sink and feign nonchalance. “You don’t?”
He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my neck. “No, I don’t. You’re special, precious.”
My knees wobble. This is why I could fall in love with Weston. He calls me precious. And, in his arms, I do feel precious.
“I appreciate the effort, but you’re scrubbing the pan.”
He pats my ass before herding me out of the way. “I got this.”
“You can scrub a pan, but you can’t cook?”
He switches on the hot water. “Mom insisted I share all the household chores with my sister, Sophia. I can scrub a pan, mop the floors, and clean the windows.”
“But not cook?”
“Sophia and I both failed in Mom’s endeavors to teach us to cook.”
“I’m not much of a breakfast eater anyway. Cereal is fine. As long as there’s coffee, you won’t hear me complaining.”
“Phew. I was worried you’d want some of that green tea stuff.” He motions to the French Press in the corner. “Coffee I can make.”
“Without an automatic coffee maker. Impressive.” I pour a cup and take a sip. “Not bad.”
“You drink your coffee black? No milk or sugar?”
I lower my voice and imitate my dad, “Milk and sugar is for sissies.” Plus, he wasn’t spending money on luxury items for his children.
“Don’t tell my sister. She enjoys her milk and sugar with a bit of coffee.”
There’s a buzzing sound before the lights flicker on. I hold my breath as I wait for them to switch off again. After a few seconds of flickering, the lights steady out.
“We have lights!”
Weston drops the pan in the sink and wipes his hands on his pants before finding his cell phone. “Still no reception.”
“But we have electricity and the heating should kick on now as well.”
He bats his eyelashes. “Whatever will we do with lights but no cell phone reception?”
I rake my gaze over his body. Over those arms that held me tight last night. Over his chest I raked my fingernails down this morning as he brought me pleasure. I can think of a few things I wouldn’t mind repeating this morning.
My stomach growls and I cough to hide the sound.
Weston chuckles. “Food first. Whatever you were thinking, second.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “Maybe what I was thinking isn’t an activity for two people.”
“Precious, you were eating me with your eyes. I know exactly what you were thinking.”
I hope he doesn’t know exactly what I’m thinking at the moment because now I’m thinking about how much I enjoy spending time with him in the kitchen. How much I’d love to spend every late morning fooling around with him.
Gah. It’s official. I’m falling in love with a player who’s going to break my heart.