Page 37 of Stuck with Me

JONES

Do you think two bottles of rum is enough? I know how you like your spiked eggnog.

CAMMIE

Also, Maverick is worried about the sleeping arrangements. I assured him we will have our own room.

JONES

Never mind. I picked up four bottles. And I stopped by the Brew Box.

You’re welcome.

* * *

The scentof cinnamon continues to fill the space of the kitchen. I close my eyes and inhale a big whiff. It’s like heaven.

Except the comparison gets my brain spiraling. Because now when I think of heaven it’s bittersweet. I’d like to think Gigi is somewhere safe. Where she’s not in pain and she’s happy. And maybe that’s heaven, I don’t know.

Cinnamon rolls don’t only make me think of heaven or Gigi. They’re everything that is good in this world. They’re light and fluffy. They’re goodness. They’re intimate.

Nico is upstairs checking out the rest of the cabin. There are two bedrooms and a mattress in the loft where I’ll be sleeping since I’ll be one of the only single people here this week. Off the loft is a door that goes to a small deck.

I had planned on watching a movie but there’s no TV at the cabin. Instead, we hang up a white screen and I have a projector that attaches to my phone. Hooking up the projector part is the easy part. It’s the hanging of the white screen that’s more difficult to do with only one hand.

Fucking wrist.

“It still smells amazing in here,” Nico says from behind me.

I spin around and it’s hard not to smile. A compliment on my cinnamon rolls might as well be a compliment on my appearance. I take a lot of pride in them.

“There’s plenty left if you get hungry for more.”

“They were good, but I’m not hungry for cinnamon rolls, I’m hungry for somethin’ else,” he drawls and gives me a shit-eating grin.

I huff out a laugh. I can’t help it. I’ve never met a guy who can keep up with me. Nico not only banters like a champ, but he’s got a dirty mind like me too. Maybe even dirtier.

Anticipation buzzes between my thighs at that thought.

Down, girl!

We had our fun. This was a one-and-done situation, not a friends-with-benefits situation.

I shake my head. “You put on a good front, cowboy.”

“What do ya mean?”

“You act like this straight shooter, good boy, mother fucking cowboy. But when it comes to sex, you flip the switch and you’re a man with needs and a filthy mouth.”

He shrugs but the blush crawling up his neck isn’t missed by me. “It’s not a front. At least it’s not on purpose. I guess I just try to be a good guy.”

“And good guys can’t have needs? Desires? Fantasies?” I waggle my brows at him.

“Not in my family.”

Shuffling into the kitchen, he follows behind me. “That’s a fucking shame.”

I roll our conversation through my mind while I frost the cinnamon rolls. What kind of family doesn’t let you have an identity? For the first time, I think about Nico’s grandfather, Leo, and it makes me sad. Maybe at one point, he and Gigi must’ve had something really special.

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