Mr. Wrong Number(46)

He tilted his head. “What else would I bring bedding for?”

Dear Lord. “Hang on.”

I shut the door and started undoing the chain. “You need to promise not to say anything about the way I look.”

“This should be good.”

I pulled the door open, and his face immediately split into a wide grin. “Well, what do we have here?”

“Bite me.”

He walked into the apartment with an armful of bedding, his eyes all over me as he grinned like I was a moron. “What is this, though? Like . . . Cher meets Taylor Swift . . . ?”

“Cher?” I grabbed the pile from his hands and set them on the island. “What part of this says Cher?”

He put his lips together as if trying to stop himself from smiling. “I just thought all the makeup and . . .”

He gestured to my hair and face.

“Whatever.” I put my hands on my hips and tried for the cool I would surely exude if I weren’t wearing softball pants and a Coors Extra bro tank. “So do you want to see it?”

He gave a little laugh and his eyes dipped over me, but this time I felt it. This time it was flirty, not mocking. “Oh, yeah.”

There was a lot in his oh, yeah, but I chose to ignore it. “Grab the beer out of the fridge and you can come help me make the bed.”

I didn’t even look at his face as I grabbed the stack of sheets and went upstairs. I hadn’t meant it to sound suggestive and had no idea why I’d invited him to help me make my bed. What the hell even was that? Thankfully he had no comment, and I heard the refrigerator open, so I knew he was actually obeying.

When we got upstairs, I was a little embarrassed that there was an empty beer can on the floor beside the bed and an open box of Froot Loops. I was tempted to kick them into the closet, but it’s not like my bad habits were any secret to Colin.

I set the stack of sheets on the half wall that overlooked the rest of the apartment, and ran my hand over the pristine whiteness of the fabric. “Oh, my God, Beck, are these sheets linen?”

He emerged from the last stair and—oh, mama—his handsomeness took the air out of my lungs. Something about those tortoiseshell glasses on the bridge of that strong nose really worked for me.

“So what?”

That made me smile. “So you’re such a diva, Beck.”

His mouth was firm but his eyes were amused. “It’s summer, Liv—linen is perfect. Light and breathable so you don’t get hot, but they feel heavier than a traditional sheet. You’ll love them.”

I knew he was right, because I’d lied; when he’d gone to Boston, I had slept under his covers. I hadn’t known it was because of the sheets, but I’d been enamored with the feel of the cool bedding on my skin. “I promise to return them after I buy some.”

I’d ordered a sofa and a TV from Amazon earlier in the day, so why not add bedding? I had a stable job now, after all.

“Consider them a gift. I washed them after I bought the set, but they’ve never been used.”

“Um, thanks.” I unfolded the bottom sheet—of course Colin had folded it perfectly—and shook it out. “But I’m still not sure why you’re doing these nice things for me. It’s so unlike you that I’m a little terrified.”

“First of all, it’s not unlike me. I’m a super-nice guy.”

“Except to me.”

“Granted.” He stepped over and grabbed an end, pulling the sheet toward the bed. “Second of all, this is my insurance policy that you never return. If all it takes is a mattress and a sheet and you’re forever out of the nest, it’s a tiny price to pay.”

“See?” I moved with him toward the bed, holding my end and being a little distracted by the sight of us doing such an intimate, domestic thing together. “That’s exactly what I needed to make myself not feel guilty about being a charity case. You’re actually kind of being a jackass by buying me a luxurious bed just like yours, then.”

“It is not just like mine,” he muttered, tucking his side under his corner of the mattress, “it is a much cheaper version.”

“Sure it is.” I tucked the sheet around my corner of the mattress, then moved down toward the foot of the bed with sheet in hand.

“Believe what you want, Marshall.”

“Oh, I will, Beck.”

He grabbed the top sheet from the stack and shook it out while I cracked open a beer. I watched in amusement as he not only laid it over the mattress but went around the bed four times, straightening the sheet and tucking in all the corners.

It was so white and crisp that it looked like a hotel bed.

Then he tossed a pillow on the mattress and just stood back to survey his work.

“Thank you so much.” I couldn’t be nonchalant anymore because my heart was overflowing with warmth for Colin. “I don’t care if getting my irritating ass out of your apartment was the reason. This is like the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

He swallowed and I was transfixed by the sight of his throat moving. Such a solid, tan, masculine column of neck.

“Everyone deserves presents sometimes.”

“Wow.” I blinked. “I hadn’t expected that to come out of your mouth.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”