“I can’t sleep now,” he says, scratching his head. “Do you want to watch a movie?” I should tell him no; I should tell him that I’m tired and I’m going to bed. I know I should tell him all that, but my mouth, however, doesn’t.
“Sure,” I say, and even I want to shake my head at myself. This is not good. None of this is good. I’m here to do a job. “Do you want to watch it in here?” No, no, no, no, the good part of my brain chants. That isn’t going to help anything.
He grabs the remote and turns on the television as he climbs into bed with me. Grabbing the pillows, he props himself up, leaning against the headboard. “Is there anything you want to watch?”
“The Notebook,” I say, trying to hide my smile while I lie down and put my head on the pillow, angling it to see the television.
He groans. “Not The Notebook. Anything but The Notebook.”
I try to hide my giggle. “The Lake House.”
“Oh my God, I’m going to die,” he says, and I finally let go of the laugh I’ve been holding in. “Jesus, I thought you were being serious,” he says, finally laughing and turning on all the movies. We settle on an action movie, and halfway in, I’m asleep. And when I finally roll over in the morning, the bed is empty, but I can see the indent of his head is still on the pillow.
Rolling to my side, I see it’s almost ten o’clock, and I smell coffee. I go to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth and then head to the kitchen. He is sitting at the counter with his phone in one hand and the coffee in the other. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he says. His bedhead is still sticking up, and I have the sudden urge to run my hands through it.
“Morning,” I say and look over at the box sitting on the counter next to him. “What is that?” I ask, going to grab my own cup of coffee.
“This,” he says, “is for you.”
“Me?” I ask in shock, getting my milk out and then finally taking a sip of the coffee. “Who sent me this?” I ask, going around the counter and seeing the box with no name on it.
“I didn’t know if you had anything for the hike, so I had them send you stuff,” he says, and I take the top of the box off to see that he had black Billy boots sent to me with the name HUNTER across the front. A black down-filled vest sits on the bottom of it. “We should eat and then head out.”
“Oh, I’m excited now. I don’t think I’ve ever had Billy boots before,” I tell him, and he gets up. Going to the fridge, he grabs some bread, and I see the shocked look on his face. “I grew up in Florida.”
“Did it never rain in Florida?” he asks, laughing, and I just shrug.
“My mother doesn’t do anything that would require rubber boots,” I tell him. “She would definitely frown on going on a hike, but she would probably look amazing wearing Billy boots. She looks good in everything.”
“Then I guess you get that from your mom,” he says, and I just look at him as he changes the subject. “I’m making grilled cheese with bacon.”
“Do you need my help?” I ask him, and he just shakes his head. I sit at the counter and watch him. I watch his back, and I swear I think it’s even sexier than his abs. He butters the bread and takes the bacon we had from last night. He grabs some cheese but not the sliced cheddar. He grabs special cheese like Gruyère, Emmental, and Provolone. When he puts the plate in front of me, I cannot hold back my groan after I take a bite. “It’s so good,” I say, and he just nods.
“It’s my specialty,” he says, laughing and sitting next to me as he eats three for my one. “I’m going to get ready.” Putting his plate in the dishwasher, he walks to his room. “Twenty minutes, Erin. No need for any froufrou!” he yells before he slams his door.
I get up, putting my own plate away and grabbing my box. “No froufrou, my ass,” I say to myself, walking into my own room and seeing my bed and the indent from his head still on the pillow. “This is a bad idea,” I tell myself out loud, but my mouth just smiles as I walk into the bathroom and totally start with the froufrou but just lightly.
Chapter Fifteen
Carter
When I woke up next to her for the second day in a row, I had a slight panic attack. Especially since I was spooning her. I got out of the bad so fast I’m surprised she didn’t wake up. I looked over at her, and I had to stop and just take her in. Her long hair fanned across her pillow, and her lips were slightly parted. Getting home last night after that crazy scene I filmed, I was gutted and destroyed. It was another heavy scene. This one with me holding my missing daughter’s pjs and crying into it. I just wanted to be alone, and then when I was finally alone, I wanted her there with me. Not just anyone. I wanted her, her smile, her eye roll, her sassy, just fucking her. That is what I wanted, and when I found her outside shivering, it was a no-brainer to grab her in my arms even though I knew I shouldn’t have. I knew the risk I was taking by letting my guard down, but with her, it’s just natural and comes easy. She doesn’t want anything from me. In fact, she wants the opposite from me.