Page 88 of Lavender Lake
“On.”
“Are you going to help me get ready for bed?”
“How sure are you that your grandmother is asleep?”
I smiled. “I’m pretty sure. Besides, she wears ear plugs.”
“Does she?”
“Yep.” I grinned. “And the walls are thick. This house was built to last.”
“I’ll sleep next to you tonight, but I’m not putting my hands on you. Even I have some sense of decorum.”
I snorted. “Well, I don’t. You’re really not going to touch me?”
“I’m really not going to touch you.”
I grinned.
“What?”
“We’ll see.”
“If you don’t behave, I’ll sleep in my own bed.”
“Fine, I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“Good.”
“And I’ll even wear pajamas.”
“Salem,” he warned.
My smile widened.
“What?” he demanded.
“You called me Salem.”
“I did.”
“You’re not going to be able to resist me.”
He took my elbow and led me toward the stairs. “That, I already know.”
“Salem,” he growled.
“What?”
He placed a hand on my hip. “Settle.”
I sighed and rolled over onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. It was dark in the middle of the night, and I should’ve been asleep.
But I couldn’t sleep because there was a big, brawny bull rider in bed next to me. And even though I was wearing pajamas, he had stripped down to his boxers, so every time I moved, I grazed warm bare skin.
“Tell me a bedtime story,” I commanded. “Something boring that will put me to sleep.”
“I could explain how a combustion engine works,” he said.
