Page 82 of Faking the Pass
“Only Wilder ever slept here—until he and Jess came out here together,” I told her.
“Oh. Well there’s got to be a couch somewhere.”
She peeked into the office. “I’ll sleep in here. That sofa will be fine for me.”
“It’s not a sofa. It’s a loveseat, and even as short as you are, your feet will hang off the edge. I know you’re exhausted. Take the bed,” I said.
“What about you? The whole bottom half of your body would hang off that tiny little couch.”
“I’m not really that tired. I slept on the plane,” I lied. “I think I’ll explore a little and maybe catch a nap later.”
Rosie looked me over, taking in my beard shadow. The bags under my eyes were probably heavier than the ones I’d carried in here from the boat—which was saying something.
Jessica must have packed everything in my house.
“Liar,” Rosie said. “Let’s just share the bed. We’re both so exhausted there’s absolutely zero chance of anyone disturbing anyone else’s sleep.”
I’d have loved to agree with her, but even when I was half-dead, Rosie was capable of getting a rise out of me.
When I watched her kick off her shoes and pad to the bed, I couldn’t keep my focus from dropping to her perfect ass, and the groan of pleasure she let out upon sliding between the sheets would have made any man picture smooth, naked skin.
Still, she was right—Ihadbeen lying about not being tired.
Carrying the bags up the stairs from the beach had used up my last energy reserves. I could barely keep my eyes open.
Almost on autopilot, I followed her into the room and dropped onto the bed beside her.
On top of the covers.
I didn’t need them anyway. I didn’t need anything but this soft pillow and about ten hours straight of solid shuteye.
We’d worry about the one bed situation tomorrow.
Chapter 21
The One Bed Situation
Rosie
The next morning, I woke slowly, feeling fully rested but too lazy to move quite yet.
Blinking drowsily, I took in my surroundings.
Acres of soft, white bedding. Beyond that, shining tile floors stretched to meet a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, and beyond those, the turquoise blue of tropical waters.
Sheer white curtains fluttered in the breeze from an open window somewhere, but it was warm.
Really warm. Though the mattress was exceptionally comfortable beneath me, I was almost overheated.
I tried to move and then I realized why I was so hot.
There was a heavy arm draped over my waist.
My eyelids flew open, my heart thumping like I’d already had two cups of coffee.
For one terrifying moment, I thought I was somehow back in my ex-fiance’s Malibu beach house and somehow stupid enough to be back in his bed.
Then my mind snapped fully awake, and I realized where I was.
