He leaned across me, unfastening my seat belt. His arm brushed against my chest as he straightened, and my nipples instantly pebbled. Those damn traitorous nipples.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to steel my body’s reaction to Colt’s closeness. But apparently no amount of pain could stop my attraction to this man. And I was the genius who had said I was okay with staying with him.
“Here,” Colt said. “Take my hand and slide out easy. Or I can lift you.”
I didn’t want his damn hand. My nipples would probably react to that too. But Ireallydidn’t want to know what would happen if I let him carry me. I’d probably end up dry-humping him.
“Okay,” I rasped.
I slid my hand into his, shivering at the calluses, the feel of that rough skin. He closed his fingers around mine, bracing me.
As carefully as possible, I slid out of the SUV. Everything hurt—my ribs, my head, my throat. And there was an ache in every muscle, probably from hitting the ground when I went lights out.
When I was standing and steady, Colt’s gaze swept over me. “You okay?”
I nodded and shut the door. “Good.”
Then I looked up to see where we were going and gasped. I hadn’t noticed the cabin when we’d pulled up. I’d been too lost in wooziness and pain and Colt. But now I couldn’t look away.
Cabinwasn’t exactly the right term. It was too nice for that. It was large but not massive. Beautiful but not ostentatious. The craftsmanship was expert. I could tell that even from where I was standing. The attention to detail was next-level.
The house was a mixture of wood, stone, and glass. The wood had a reddish hue, and I wondered if it was built from the redwoods surrounding us. That detail made the cabin feel like it sank into the forest, like it was somehow still a part of it. The stone of the walkway matched the rock the chimney was built out of, and I knew there had to be one hell of a fireplace inside. And the glass. So much glass I knew you could take in every inch of every possible view.
And thanks to the full moon, I could see that the whole structure almost hovered over the lake it was set on. If I could’ve built the house of my dreams, it would’ve been this one.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
I felt Colt’s gaze move to me, but I couldn’t look away from his home.
He was silent for a moment before he spoke. “I’m glad you like it. Let’s get you inside.”
He kept hold of my hand as we approached the house, navigating the stone path with care. When we reached the front stoop, he set Tater’s cage down so he could unlock the door, but he still didn’t let go of my hand.
Once the door was open, he first set Tater inside and then led me in. “Here we go.”
I moved into the entryway, forcing myself to let go of the hand that was giving me so much comfort in the moment. Too much. Instead, I focused on his house. I’d been right about the windows. The whole back of the house was glass. And it felt like we were on top of the water.
“Amazing,” I breathed.
Movement caught my eye. A large dog struggled to his feet from a pillowy bed in the corner of the living room and ambled over to greet me.
“Well, hey there, handsome.” My hand went to his head, giving him a scratch. The dog pressed into the attention.
“This is Bowser, and he’ll love you for life for doing that,” Colt said.
“He’s perfect.”
Tater let out an angry sound that was a cross between a snarl, a hiss, and spitting. She swiped at the cage as if she’d do battle with Bowser if given half a chance. Bowser simply sent her a look of confusion as he sniffed the air.
“She’s not the biggest fan of dogs,” I warned.
Colt lifted a brow. “What gave that away?”
I grinned.
“I’ve got you in a guest room with its own bath, so we can sequester the attack cat in there. I had Trey pick up a litter box and the same food that was in your van.”
The backs of my eyes burned. “You got me a litter box?” Why was that the thing that had me almost breaking? Something about the thoughtfulness of it, the foresight. Colt doing whatever he could to make this as easy on Tater and me as possible.