Page 19 of Hidden Gem
Jason shifted to get up and fetch one, but Marnie stopped him. “It’s okay. Stay in bed, you might get back to sleep. Just look the other way, okay?”
He laughed but turned around and found his laptop on the nightstand. He googled himself and scrolled through the results. Nothing new. His eyes hurt and he lowered the screen brightness. The sun wasn’t up yet. There was only enough light to make out the shape of the room, corners swallowed by darkness. He heard the drawer opening and couldn’t help himself. Moving as softly and quietly as he could, Jason turned his head. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. She held up one of his white T-shirts, her hourglass figure illuminated against the shadows. Soft. Feminine. Perfect. She glanced into the mirror hanging over the dresser and pulled the shirt over her head. As she shifted sideways, he caught a glimpse of her breast before it disappeared inside the white cotton.
Without warning, she whipped around and caught him looking.
Shit. Jason raised his hands in surrender. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t resist.”
Marnie tugged at the T-shirt, which reached her mid-thigh. “You promised.”
“I know.” Jason grimaced, trying to communicate his remorse across the room. “It’s just that you’re stunning. I couldn’t control my eyes!”
“I don’t...”
“Please come back to bed. It’s really early.”
She shuffled for a moment but joined him under the sheets. “Were you looking the whole time? When I dropped that other shirt on the floor and had to pick it up?” Her words brimmed with nervousness.
“Damn! I missed that!” He couldn’t help the disappointment in his voice.
Marnie disappeared behind the sheets, but he heard a quiet giggle. “My ass is really not that hard to miss.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not big. You’re sexy, though. That ass of yours is all I can think about.”
She peeked at him from behind the sheets. “Really?” She seemed to light up from his words and he felt the urge to pour more on her, to open the window and shout out to the streets.
“Honestly, you’re perfect. I can’t stop staring. I know my body needs more sleep, but I don’t want to close my eyes.”
She blushed, burying her face in the pillow. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?” Confused, Jason lifted the curls off her face, but she wouldn’t turn her head. He gently pushed her shoulder to roll her onto her back. She didn’t fight him hard but brought her hand over her face. He hovered over her, brushed away the hair and saw tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes.
“I’m not what you think.” She squeezed her hands into tight fists and more tears rolled down her cheeks. “But thank you.”
“For what?” He laughed a little, attempting at lightness that wasn’t available.
“For saying those things. I can’t believe that someone like you... you have no idea what it means. Even if it’s not real.”
“What’s not real?”
“That you’d really want me.” She lowered her fists to peek at him.
Jason stared into her hazel eyes, trying to uncover the truth she’d hidden in there. She’d told him she wasn’t married or unavailable. He had to trust her word. If only she’d do the same.
“Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?” He held his hand on her face, desperate to trace it down her body. But she wasn’t ready for it, so he couldn’t.
“I don’t know.” She smiled through the tears. “Politics.”
“This has nothing to do with politics! For me, this is just a ... miracle. And there are no miracles in politics, trust me.”
“What’s a miracle?”
“The way I feel right here, next to you. I’ve thought of nothing but work for months. Night or day. But when I look at you, my mind goes blank. That’s how hot you are! You shut down my brain.”
Her eyes widened and she gestured at her face. “It’s all this styling, and hair and makeup. I don’t know what they painted my face with, but it’s like... permanent.”
Jason took a breath, his gaze drawn towards the shape of her hips under the sheet. “Can I please kiss you? You’re talking nonsense and I don’t know how to shut you up.”
“Okay,” she rasped, and that was all the invitation he needed.
