Page 35 of Must Love Scones and Secrets
She shook her head. “Let’s save the rematch for later. It’s getting very late. I should probably…” She glanced toward the door, but thunder interrupted her, followed by an even heavier downpour.
“You can’t go out in that. The path back to town will be washed out by now.”
Rosalyn bit her lip, looking torn. “I don’t want to impose…”
“It’s not an imposition,” I assured her. “Please, stay. It would ease my mind to know you’re safe. And Merry would never forgive you.”
Merry, who was asleep on the windowsill, cocked an ear toward us but didn’t open his eyes.
“If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.”
Merry meowed from the windowsill as if adding his own opinion on the matter.
“See? Even Merry agrees,” I said. “And I think we can trust his judgment.”
“Well, if Merry says so,” she replied with a soft laugh. “Thank you.”
I nodded, suddenly acutely aware of the cabin’s limited sleeping arrangements. There was only one bed.
“I’ll take the floor,” I said quickly. “There are plenty of blankets.”
Rosalyn looked at the narrow bed, then back at me, hesitation clear in her eyes. “With the rain, it’s far too cold for the floor, even with the fire.”
“I’ve slept in worse conditions.”
She seemed to debate something internally, then straightened her shoulders. “Don’t be ridiculous. The bed is small, but we can share it. I promise not to take advantage of you,” she teased.
My heart hammered in my chest. “I… If you’re comfortable with that.”
“I am if you are.”
The darkness outside made the cabin feel even smaller, more intimate.
We prepared for sleep in a dance of careful movements and avoided glances. I banked the fire to keep it burning through the night. Smoke, who seemed to have no interest in moving, stretched out as Merry carefully approached in search of a warmer place to sleep. Eventually, he curled up by the fire too.
When we could delay no longer, we approached the bed together. I felt absurdly nervous, more like an unsure teen rather than a grown man.
“Left or right?” she asked softly.
“Either is fine. You choose.”
She slipped under the covers on the right side, and I cautiously joined her on the left, trying to keep a respectful distance in the narrow space. We lay side by side, staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain and breathing.
“Bjorn?” she whispered after a moment.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for today. For the game, the conversation…for everything.”
I turned to look at her. In the dim light from the banked fire, her profile was soft, her expression open and unguarded.
“You’re very welcome, Rosalyn,” I said quietly. “More than you know.”
She smiled, her eyes meeting mine. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
