Page 48 of Sergeant O'
I wondered if that was an omen since I slept on the left side.
Well, I started at the left. I tended to gravitate toward the middle as I slept.
She smiled when she saw me at the foot of the bed, then stood up, grabbed a pile of what looked like clothes and a big square bag with a floral design.
“I won’t be long either. I’m going to wait and shower in the morning.”
“That’s what I was thinking I’d do, too.”
The bathroom door shut, and I unzipped the small side pocket of my duffle and pulled out my phone charger, then sifted through the clothes she’d packed for me until I came across a pair of pajama pants.
That’s when I noticed two pairs of rolled-up socks and smiled.
It was just like her to ask me a question, then totally disregard my answer if she didn’t agree with it.
And damn did I like that about her.
She was sassy and strong-willed, while still being kind and caring.
And so fucking hot.
The image of her as she stood in her garage in nothing but her underwear was going to be forever burned into my memory.
And I wasn’t mad about it.
Then she came out of the bathroom in the skimpiest pair of pajama shorts I’d ever seen, along with a matching camisole top that did nothing to hide her perky nipples, and I couldn’t help but stare.
I mentally checked to make sure that at least my mouth was closed.
She didn’t make eye contact with me and moved quickly to put her bag and clothes back in her backpack.
Finally, she turned around and moved her hand down her body. “I’m really sorry. This is all I brought. I was expecting to be at my girlfriend’s—inSouth Carolina. Not in a roadside motel in Virginia with you.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m not complaining. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here with me in Virginia instead of at your girlfriend’s in South Carolina.”
You could have knocked me over with a feather when she looked at me with a soft smile and murmured, “Me, too.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I awkwardly shut the lamp off next to me and said, “Well, goodnight.”
As if embarrassed by her admission, she quickly got under the covers and clicked off the light on her nightstand, too. With her back to me, she murmured, “Goodnight.”
You fucking dumbass! Fix this—NOW!
Desperate to say anything, I told her, “I set my alarm for seven. That should put us on the road no later than nine, which means we’ll get to the cottage around seven.”
Without rolling over, she replied, “Sounds good.”
I searched my brain for something else to add but came up empty.
There was no way around it; I had zero game when it came to Jade Beaumont.
~~~~
The silence was almost deafening as we lay in darkness. It was killing me to know she was within arm’s reach, yet there was nothing I could do about it.
I thought about confessing why I was acting like such an awkward dipshit but opted not to.
What would be the point?
