Page 127 of In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes

He arched an eyebrow, humoring me, and waited.

I pressed my mouth into a line and stared back at him. My heartbeat picked up and nerves coursed through me.

“Let’s go upstairs.” His eyes were soft and he took a step toward me.

I stepped back. “I’m okay to sleep on the couch.”

He took another step toward me and I backed up against the wall. “I want to sleep beside you again, honey, and I don’t want to sleep on the couch tonight.”

Worry creased between my brows. The idea of moving here was already working its way into my head. I bit my lip and glanced at the stairs. I hadn’t gone upstairs today because I didn’t want to even tempt myself.

He stepped into my space and his hand brushed up my arm, sending shivers across my skin. “Aren’t you curious about what my room looks like?”

He leaned in to kiss the side of my jaw and all the air in my lungs rushed out.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Describe it to me.”

“Come see it for yourself.”

I made a noise of hesitation.

His eyes melted, soft as velvet. “What are you worried about, baby?”

“That I’ll love it,” I admitted.

He pulled back to search my eyes. “And what would be so bad about that?”

My throat worked. Because I’d stay forever.

When I didn’t answer, he pressed a soft kiss to my mouth. My hesitation wavered.

“You’re the boss,” he reminded me before pressing another kiss onto my lips. “If you want to sleep on the couch, we can.”

I bet his room was lovely, and his bed smelled like him.

One night wouldn’t hurt.

“Is your neck sore?” I asked.

His expression was rueful and a little embarrassed.

“I guess youarethirty-four,” I told him, wrinkling my nose, and he rolled his eyes at me. I thought about how generous and sweet he was, and I had the urge to give that affection right back. “How about I rub it better?”

His eyes darkened. “I would like that.”

“I thought so.” I glanced at the stairs before I nodded to him.

He took my hand and led me upstairs. When we reached the end of the hall, I stepped through his doorway and my hand flew to my mouth.

It was the painting Katherine bought from me years ago. My gaze shot to Holden’s and he nodded and sighed like he had let out a secret.

I pointed at the painting, gaping at him.

“Yeah,” he said.

“How did you…?”

He stood beside me, studying the painting with a thoughtful expression. “I always loved this painting. She’d catch me staring at it all the time and then she’d think of you and talk about you.” He shrugged. “I liked it when she talked about you, and I didn’t even realize it.”

---