Hitched(23)

His gaze drifts to my towel, and his green eyes go dark. “I’m sure there is.”

I inch toward the closet, which isn’t large enough for me to hide in. “You just go on then… In there. While I do my…stuff out here.”

“Stuff, hm?” He hums, his tongue slipping out to trace the seam of his lips. “So you want me to go into the shower and think about all the stuff you’re doing all alone in here?”

“I’m getting dressed.” My cheeks go hot, as I add in a hiss, “Not touching myself.”

“Hey. No judgment here.” He shrugs. “And you don’t have to touch yourself. I could touch you instead. I mean, you’re naked. I’m almost naked. Sex just seems a more mutually enjoyable option at this point, right?”

There’s no edge to his words.

Correction: there’s no baiting edge to his words.

But there are smoky edges and seductive edges and I have to concentrate very, very hard on remembering why sex with Blake is a bad idea.

Actually, I’m still struggling to pull up my list of Why Hopes Don’t Bang Blakes when he brushes past me with a grin and heads into the bathroom. “All right, suit yourself. But don’t leave without me, wifey-lifey. Or I’ll have to come get you from bingo and spank you in public.”

Two days ago, he couldn’t say anything that didn’t irritate the snot out of me.

Today, he can’t say anything that doesn’t rev my engines and then some. Gah, I have to get him out of here before it’s too late. But I can’t.

The alpaca.

I’m doing this for Chewy, because he’s sweet and innocent and deserves a good life.

I throw on clothes as fast as I can and retreat to the living room, where I peek through the blinds and verify that yep, Dean’s back.

He’s setting up a telescope, which is a little weird, because the sun won’t set for a few hours still, and if it was a telephoto lens designed to see all the way into the house, some part of it would have to actually be pointed at the house, which it’s not.

Maybe Blake and I can pull this off.

Who knew Kyle would hire an inept private eye more interested in practicing yoga and star-gazing than hardcore spying?

“Ready, snugglepuff?” Blake leans in the doorway. He’s always leaning. So casual. Not a care in the world. “We don’t want to B-8 to bingo. Get it? B-8? Be late?”

“That is the worst joke ever,” I tell him, but I’m smiling.

He frowns. “Hold on. You’ve got something…”

He reaches for my face. I assume he’s going to wipe off dirt I missed in the shower. Instead, he goes in for the full-body kiss.

The one where his thighs line up with mine, our bellies press together, and his lips claim my mouth with an intensity that makes me want to stay inside and offer up my whole body to him on a platter. With side dishes. And garnish.

He kisses me, and I feel so…

So…

Worth it.

Worth a gorgeous man’s time, attention, and complete focus.

I know I’m not his favorite person in the world, and he’ll probably hate me even more before our fake marriage is over. But he still makes me feel like I’m doing something oh-so-right.

Like maybe it’s okay that I’m a bit of a mess when it comes to feelings. I’m still a woman he’d love to spend more time with anyway.

Or possibly this is just lust, and we’re both getting swept up in the heat.

He thrusts his fingers through my hair and angles the kiss deeper while I debate the merits of holding on to the last scraps of my resolve. What’s so great about resolve, anyway? Isn’t that just another way of saying you’re too stubborn to change your mind?

I don’t know. It’s so hard to think clearly with his hands on me, his mouth on me. He smells like soap and sunshine, and he tastes like dessert, and I’ve pretty much decided I’m down for dessert for dinner and calling in sick to bingo night.

But before I can confess my weakness, he pulls away.

“There,” he says in that smoky, sultry, sinful voice. “Now you look like a newlywed.” He slaps me on the bottom, making me yip as he starts for the door. “Come on, cinnamon twist. The old folks are waiting.”





Ten





Hope





* * *



I’m still replaying that kiss over and over again in my head when Blake parks his truck in front of the Happy Cat Community Center. Usually, bingo is at the senior center, but when Sunshine Toys announced they were sponsoring this week’s prizes, the town’s ladies went crazy reserving their spots, so bingo got moved to a bigger location.

We’re not even out of the truck before the squealing starts.

“It’s the newlyweds!”

“Oh, my, he must be very good in bed.”

“Shh! If they want to have a quickie in the truck, let them.”

“Mom, we’re not having sex in public,” Blake says to the last one.

Minnie O’Dell beams at him as she smothers me in a hug. “You should. Your father and I used to—”

“Ma, gross!”

“I know he’s just saying that for my benefit.” She giggles. “And welcome to the family, Hope. We’re so glad it was you. And we’ll have to plan a reception. Three of my boys, happily married. I’m so thrilled. So thrilled.”