Page 23 of Wild Tides
“My pleasure.”
Slowly, I trudged upstairs, stowing our leftovers in Lee’s beautiful kitchen before climbing the last steps to his bedroom. I’d just finished hanging up my dress and slipping into pajamas when I heard a thud from downstairs.
Frowning, I made it to the first floor in record time, my heart thumping loud in my ears when I didn’t spot him on the couch. I knocked on the bathroom door.
“Lee? You okay?”
He’d been maneuvering so well, it was easy to forget he was hurt.
“Fine,” he called back gruffly. Sounding decidedly not-fine. The hint of pain edging his words made me pause. Sounds of shuffling came through the door. I leaned against the oppositewall, not wanting him to feel like I was surveilling him but unwilling to leave. Not until I knew he was okay.
A few minutes later, he cracked the door and shuffled into view. He’d taken off the slacks and button-down from earlier. In their place, he’d tugged on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. But only the bottoms. Acres of broad chest filled my field of vision. For a man with an indoor job, Lee still maintained an impressive amount of muscle. Maybe it was all the running. Or the search and rescue training. Either way, hiding his body behind snarky writer tees and the occasional button-up was a crime.
“Can I help you?” he asked dryly. He arched one tawny brow.
Heat flushed beneath my cheeks. Getting caught staring wasn’t the worst thing, but it made me self-conscious about my outfit. In my rush to check on him, I hadn’t thought about what I was wearing. Compared to my dress from earlier, my pajamas were modest. Nun-ish even. So why did he look so intrigued by the vee in my purple henley? My sleep pants had dogs on them, for christsakes. I wasn’t exactly winning any awards for seduction. But that didn’t stop my nipples from popping out against the soft cotton like candles on cupcakes, inviting him to make a wish.
I crossed my arms over my breasts, shielding my tattletale boobs from his gaze. “I heard you call out and thought you might need me.”
His blue eyes flared, to be snuffed out almost faster than I could catalog the emotion. He grimaced, shifting to lean back against his own piece of wall, crossing his arms.
“Anything I want or need can wait,” he finally said, watching me steadily. “Do you need anything before bed?”
My slutty nipples said yes, but luckily, they didn’t control my mouth. “Want to watch something before we turn in for the night?”
Or maybe they did. I had a perfectly good phone. Any earlier resolutions about making him come to me turned to dust. If I was going to survive in his house, I needed the distraction of a show. Watching the big screen in his office was safer than sliding around upstairs in his sheets, all alone.
There was a flaw somewhere in that logic, but his naked chest fogged any genuine attempt at analysis. Wide, with hard slabs of muscle. The hint of a tan, though he was paler than I bet he’d be in the summer. My nipples wanted a piece of that action.
“Sure.”
His response was abrupt. Difficult to read. Not quite reluctant. Carefully friendly.
He pushed away from the wall. Trying not to notice the play of muscles in his biceps and forearms and not noticing were two entirely different hobbies. I chose the fun one, watching the flex as he moved gracefully toward his office.
“Coming?” he asked.
I stood frozen, admiring the way his waist drew in. The corded muscle wrapping his torso. Even the hollow of his spine was sexy. Life was absolutely unfair.
“Not yet. Give me a minute.”
A silent war consumed me. My hands, breasts, thighs — all of them wanted to stroke and hold him close. Every erogenous zone screamed for more. Holding on to my pride, to the desire for him to make the first move left me feeling like I was hanging from a cliff by my fingernails…one torn and ragged edge from falling.
He paused, back muscles rippling as he turned to look over his shoulder. “Let me guess – the view is better from there?”
His knowing gaze taunted me. My pulse skipped, betraying me, and I latched on to the first excuse that didn’t involve throwing myself at him. “No. I’m just waiting for you to clear the hallway. I thought I’d run upstairs and get us something to drink. What would you like?”
Was that a flash of disappointment?
“Any of the sparkling waters would be fine.” His voice was deeper than usual, a rough, throaty baritone that scraped along my nerve endings, but his words were calm. Innocent.
“Got it,” I said faintly.
Upstairs, I stuck the upper half of my body in the fridge. Cool air washed over my cheeks, dousing the fire pricking under my skin. Any farther inside, and I’d come out with the Goose Hollow logo branded across my chest.
Lee had settled on the couch by the time I returned. I’d half expected him to put a shirt on, but he spread nonchalantly across the couch. His broad chest looked inviting. As if daring me to touch him.
I settled on the next couch cushion, careful to keep my distance.
