Page 39 of The Scenic Route
“Get me anything with lean protein and lots of veggies, and I’ll love you forever.”
Ignoring the fact that her comment had refrozen Bennett in his block of awkwardness, she grabbed a tank and shorts from her suitcase to use for pajamas and hurried into the bathroom. It was bigger than the bedroom she shared with Molly at home and had the same feel of over-the-top opulence the main section of the suite had. It took her a few minutes to figure out the controls for the multiple showerheads, but soon she was sighing with relief as hot water pounded down on her shoulders and head.
She could’ve easily fallen asleep standing up in the steamy warmth, but she forced herself to wash up efficiently. The knowledge that food was coming was a great motivator too. Even though she moved quickly, the food had already been brought to their room by the time she emerged from the bathroom.
“Want to clean up before we eat?” she asked, although her starved gaze was fixed on the food.
With a huff of laughter, he said, “No. Eat.”
“Okay, Tarzan.” When she saw he’d gotten her a salad with chicken that looked amazing, she had to resist the urge to hug him in gratitude. The thought of how he’d gone stiff at the mere mention of a honeymoon suite made her reconsider. A hug might leave him frozen for days. She downgraded to a simple “Thank you.”
He ate his pasta with efficient quickness, finishing well before her and disappearing into the bathroom. The food revived her slightly, but she firmly kept her mind off the night—or early morning, more accurately—ahead on that plush, honeymoon-esque bed.
Bennett emerged soon after she’d finished her salad, shirtless and damp in a cloud of steam. Felicity made a small sound that she really hoped he hadn’t heard. It wasn’t her fault though. His chest was a work of art—not chiseled like a body builder’s but strong and bulging with muscle under his chest hair. Those arms though… She swallowed and forced her eyes down to her empty plate, and she started stacking the dirty dishes with more care than was strictly necessary.
Using the excuse to turn away from his distractingly gorgeous bare torso, she carried the tray toward the door. Her plan backfired, because Bennett followed to open the door for her, which required him to lean close enough that she was immersed in his clean, masculine scent.
Clearing her throat, she placed the tray on the floor outside the door and then retreated back into the suite, carefully keeping her eyes on things that weren’t so tempting—like the bed.
No! Don’t look at the bed!It was too late. Scenes rolled through her head like a movie, the two of them, naked, kissing, touching…
“Ack!” she squawked, finally ripping her gaze from the bed. “Just going to…ah, get ready for”—don’t say bed, don’t say bed—“bed.”Damn it.
He didn’t respond, but for once she didn’t check his face for nonverbal clues about what he was thinking. Instead, she hurried back to the bathroom and closed herself inside. Leaning back against the door, she breathed in that warm, clean smell, that addictive scent that was distinctively Bennett. She huffed out a semihysterical laugh. Apparently, there’d be no escape from the temptation that was PI B. Green.
As she brushed her teeth and got ready for bed, fully appreciating the indoor plumbing, her exhaustion returned with a vengeance. By the time she left the bathroom, all worries about awkwardness or resisting temptation had fled her mind, leaving only the desire to sleep.
She didn’t even look around the suite to see where Bennett was. Instead, she made a straight line to the bed, her eyes open only enough to keep her from walking into walls. Her knees hit the side of the bed, and she let herself fall forward, anticipating the soft give of an expensive mattress underneath her. When she landed, however, it was disappointingly hard and strangely lumpy.
It also let out a grunt.
“Did I just land on you?” she asked, not able to move despite the potential for enormous embarrassment.
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Sorry.” The Bennett mattress wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d first thought. In fact, once it adjusted to the points and curves of her shape, he almost felt as if he’d been contoured to fit against her body. Her eyes began to sink closed.
Bennett shifted underneath her, but instead of rolling her off onto the other side of the bed, he just moved her up so she could tuck her head beneath his chin, which, she found, was extraordinarily comfortable. Nestling closer and letting out a hum of contentment, she fell asleep.
Ten
Morning light was peeking around the curtains when she woke with a start in exactly the same position she’d fallen asleep. Bennett breathed underneath her in heavy exhales that were not quite snores. Moving carefully so as not to disturb him, she turned her head to look at the clock next to the bed and saw it was a little before eight in the morning. She’d only slept for a handful of hours, and her body felt heavy with the need for more rest.
Dino popped into her brain, though, and she knew it’d be impossible to sleep again. If Dino and Clint disappeared into the crowds of Vegas, she’d kick herself the whole long drive home. Bennett had been right though. She felt sharper and almost back to normal after a good meal, a shower, and some sleep in a comfortable bed.
Well, she thought, feeling the rasp of chest hair against her cheek,some sleep on a comfortable man.
She eased off him—or she tried to at least. His arms wrappedaround her, holding her tight to his chest like he was five and she was his precious stuffed animal. Tempted to sink back into his warm embrace, she made herself move. Scooting down toward his feet, she tried to escape his hold that way, but his grip tightened, and she could feel his disgruntled sleepy mumble vibrate against her. Her predicament made her laugh, and she felt him start as he awakened.
His arms instantly released her, dropping her to the bed so suddenly she almost tipped sideways. Catching herself, she pushed off him and scrambled from the bed.
Telling herself to stop acting like an awkward teenager, she met his eyes. “Good morning.”
His grunt questioned the accuracy of her statement, making her smile.
“Ready for a stakeout?”
“Not really.” His bass voice was scratchy and rumbly in the morning, and she felt her grin getting wider.
