Rules of Protection(30)

“You have no idea,” Jake said, tossing me an ugly look. Guess he was still mad. “We’ll get our showers and visit with you and Floss for a bit before turning in.”

Hank nodded. “Let me help with the bags.”

“It’s just one bag. We left in a hurry,” Jake explained. “Instead, why don’t you get a fire going? You got beer, right?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Hank grinned at Jake as he and Floss walked toward the house.

Jake grabbed our suitcase from the back and motioned for me to follow him to the guesthouse twenty feet away. The thought of getting an actual shower put some pep into my step. As we got closer, something white lying on the small, darkened porch caught my attention.

“What’s that?”

“Dog. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you.” Jake stepped over him, but the animal never moved, never even lifted his head.

I stared at the dog closer. He had white fur, a few dark spots peppered over his floppy ears, and closed eyes. He didn’t seem to be breathing. “Is he dead?”

Jake shook his head. “Nah. He’s a lazy, old hound. You’ll have to step over, or you’re going to be there all night.”

“What’s his name?”

“Dog.”

“I know what he is…I asked you what his name—”

“That’s his name. Dog.”

I gave Jake a strange look, then stepped over Dog. “Your aunt and uncle aren’t very original.”

Jake ignored me, opened the door, and flipped on a light switch. He held the door while I ducked under his arm and into the small cottage. “Home sweet home,” he said. “I take it you decided to stay?”

I couldn’t speak or move. I had expected less-than-perfect conditions, but the cottage was primitive at best. It obviously hadn’t been used in some time and needed a facelift. The linoleum had cracks, the flowery wallpaper had peeled, and a yellow love seat with large brown flowers sat in the small living room. The room was clean—depending on your definition of clean—but I did spy a cobweb hanging in the corner of the living room. It was enough to give me the heebie-jeebies.

Jake steered me toward the bedroom where a double bed, covered by a quilt and decorated with green floral throw pillows, filled up most of the room. It would be like sleeping in a closet.

“So what are the sleeping arrangements?” I asked.

“You’re looking at it,” Jake said casually. “This is where we’ll sleep.”

“We? You’re not French, and I doubt you have a mouse in your pocket.”

“Nope, none in my pocket. But I’m sure you can find one hiding under the bed or in the closet if you look hard enough.”

Jeez. Like the spider wasn’t bad enough? I had to worry about mice, too. “Yah, we’re sharing a toddler bed,” I said sarcastically.

“Hank and Floss know we aren’t a couple, but other people would wonder why I’m sleeping apart from my girlfriend. We’re not teenagers. If I’m not nearby, I can’t keep an eye out. We need to stay low-key, and I need to closely monitor the situation…or namely, you.”

“What other people? We’re out in the middle of nowhere.”

“The neighbors stop by from time to time. I don’t want anyone questioning our relationship. No one would believe I brought a woman home with me for a visit unless we’re sleeping together.”

I let out a sharp breath. “Fine, but we need to establish some bedtime rules. Otherwise, it could create more tension.”

“Yeah, there’s not enough of that between us,” Jake said.

Okay, I didn’t mind sharing a bed with Jake. In fact, my skin heated and my heart raced at the thought. But after he called me a spoiled brat, I wouldn’t dare let him know I liked the idea of sleeping in the same bed as him.

“If you want, you can go first,” he offered, pointing to the bathroom door. “Don’t lock the door.”

I grabbed some clothes and dashed into the bathroom. The water smelled funny, like rust or iron, but I stood under the blast of hot liquid, letting it pour over me as my sore, achy muscles loosened. I dried off with a ratty towel, dressed, and then tried to brush my teeth. I used the word tried loosely. I couldn’t do it.

“Jake, I’m having a small crisis. I can’t brush my teeth using this smelly water. It’s…gross.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he replied, brushing me off.

“I’m serious. Help me, or I’m not brushing my teeth the rest of the time we’re here. And don’t try to tell me it’s not your problem, because if I accidentally turn over in the middle of the night and breathe on you, it will become your problem.”

He rolled his eyes and walked out. A moment later, he returned with a bottle of drinking water. “Here, use this to brush your teeth with.”

“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”

“So I’ve heard.” Jake pulled off his T-shirt and unbuttoned his jeans.

“If you’ll give me a minute, I’m nearly done.”

“You’ve seen it before,” he said, dropping his jeans.

I tried not to look—tried being the key word—while he dropped his underwear and stepped into the tub. Not much privacy in a one-bedroom cottage, but him showing his body to me freely, without sharing, was going to be a problem. It made me wonder how firm he stood on his no sex policy…among other things.