Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)

She leans back and looks at me. There’s something on the tip of her tongue, something just under the sweet little smile she gives, that has my heart skipping a few beats.

Instead of sharing whatever it was, she rests her head against my shoulder again. “Can you hurry? It’s cold.”

I smile into her hair and carry her inside.

Twenty-Nine

Hadley

I’m too warm.

One foot slides out from under the blankets, but the air is too cold, so back in it goes.

There’s a light coming from an odd direction. My eyes flutter open.

The ceiling fan above Machlan’s bed whirls quietly, ruffling the edges of a wall tapestry in blues, grays, and black. The blinds have been pulled on the window that looks across the backyard, but the room is still bright from the sun.

My hand juts out to find an empty spot beside me.

Sitting up, I stretch. My limbs ache from the activities of last night as I look around the room. There’s no smell of coffee, no sound of anyone moving around. It’s only when I start to climb out of bed do I notice a piece of yellow paper on the bedside table.

Had,

I have to meet some people at the property on Ash Street. I didn’t want to wake you. I should be back by eleven. Take that bath we didn’t get to last night if you want. I’ll bring lunch.

Machlan

I flop back in bed with a giant smile on my face. I need a cup of coffee, but I don’t want to get up—not because I’m tired. I’m not. But because lying here feels so indulgent.

Scooting over to Machlan’s side, I twist myself up in his blankets. His scent is all over the linens. The mattress dips only slightly where he usually lays, and I wiggle around until I bury myself there.

My eyes fall closed. If I lie still, I can pretend he’s here with his arms around me. And if I’m quiet enough, I can hear the words he whispered as I was drifting to sleep a few hours ago.

I’m glad you’re here, he said into the shell of my ear. Thank you for trusting me tonight.

This is the only place I’ve ever wanted to be. And now that I am, in his home, in his bed, it’s hard to process. I keep thinking there has to be more to it. There has to be something I’m not panicking about or some dark hole to walk around, but there’s not.

Something was different about him last night. He let me in. He even gave me the reins at times. None of that is like Machlan, and while I can’t explain it, it gives me so much hope.

I smile into the pillows until my ringing phone snaps me back to reality. I consider letting voicemail pick it up, but by the fourth ring, I reconsider.

Army crawling to the other side of the bed, I swipe the phone off the table. It’s a Vigo number I don’t recognize.

My throat clears as I sit up. “Hello?”

“Is this Hadley?”

“It is.”

“Hello, Hadley. This is Jamie from the Human Resources Department at Boseman. You’re supposed to start here next Monday.”

“Oh, yes,” I say, tossing the covers off my legs in hopes the chilliness will wake me up. “What can I do for you?”

“A big favor, actually. We’re actually hoping you can start on the nineteenth.”

I yank back my phone and hit the home key to check the date. “That’s in two days.”

“I know. And I’m sorry to hit you with this at the last minute, but when Kyle interviewed you for the position, he thought Sandy would be here longer than she is. So, if we want her to train you for a couple of days, we really need you to start on the nineteenth . Do you think that’s possible?”

My heart sinks. I squeeze my temples with one hand and try to ignore the dread coming at me in droves. “I actually am out of town.” I wince. “Let me see what I can do, and I’ll get back to you later today.”

“That’s fine. And I understand this is our mistake, but if there’s any way we can get you in with Sandy, it will make the transition so much smoother. If you can make it happen, we would really appreciate it, Hadley.”

“I understand. Thanks for the call. I’ll get back with you before the end of the day.”

“Take care. Talk soon.”

“Goodbye.”

My phone drops unceremoniously onto the blankets. The thud is soft, muted by the extra comforter Machlan added before we climbed into bed for actual sleep.

A sharp pain shoots across my forehead. I whine, a fake cry drifting across the room.

The rational part of my head reminds me I was leaving anyway. The illogical half tells me I can’t. It’s too soon. I haven’t had enough time with Machlan.