Page 66 of Sergeant O'
A smile ghosted his lips. “I just did.”
I returned the smile. Our eyes locked, and for a long beat, we just stared at each other.
He really was handsome.
Those damn dimples were going to be my undoing.
I’d gone for wanting to have a fling with him, to being annoyed with myself for even considering hooking up with someone so shallow, back to wanting to continue where we’d left off at the bank.
It’d been an innocent kiss, but it’d definitely left me wanting more.
“So, I noticed there is only one bedroom…”
I kind of was hoping that’d get the conversation started.
Instead, he replied, “I know. I already scoped out the hammock. I can sleep in that since,” he hopped up and down on the seat cushion, like he was testing it out. “This couch is as lumpy as Alan said it is.”
“You’re not sleeping in a hammock, Brian. You’re recovering from surgery—getting in and out of that thing will cause way too much stress on your thigh.”
His face fell, like he was disappointed. “Oh. I hadn’t really thought about that.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch. It can’t be any worse than the couch in the nurse’s lounge that I’ve napped on.”
“You’re not sleeping out here. You did me a solid by taking time off and driving me for two days. The least I can do is offer you the bed.”
“You just had surgery Brian. I’m a nurse. It would be malpractice on my part to let you sleep anywhere but in a bed.”
He got up and poked his head through the bedroom door, then looked back at me.
“It’s only a queen bed, but, I mean, we did sleep in the same bed last night without any issues, granted it was a king. But I think we could do it again.”
Without any issues?
We almost did it while you were sleeping!
I know I would have gone through with it if he hadn’t woken up and stopped things.
I also knew that he’d been awake when I rubbed his dick while I pretended to be asleep.
So why was he lying now, saying there hadn’t been any issues?
There was only one way to find out…
“You’re right. We’re adults. Of course we could sleep in the same bed without a problem.”
Except I had every intention of causing a problem. To borrow a metaphor Brian could relate to, it was time to fish or cut bait.
Chapter Thirty-One
Brian
She came out of the en suite bathroom with a freshly washed face, in those pajamas that left nothing to the imagination, and I was immediately at war with myself.
What the hell was I thinking, suggesting we share a bed again—for ten days?
Maybe I was secretly a masochist and loved the torture of having her so close, knowing she was off-limits.
Or maybe I wanted a chance to prove I wasn’t a chicken shit after all.
