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"Are you sure? Really, the floor will be fine. I, ah, I like a hard bed."
"Shit, you're a terrible liar," I told her, chuckling, as I climbed out of the bed.
"Fine. I like a really soft bed actually," she admitted.
"And here one is," I told her, waving my arm toward it.
Her gaze went to the bed for just a second, then my forearm, bicep, shoulder, chest, lower, making me suddenly aware that I didn't have a shirt on.
"Baby," I called, trying to force my lips into a straight line, knowing she would take a smile the wrong way as her gaze shot up. Sure, I might have enjoyed being eye-banged by a cute woman, but she would likely be mortified caught doing so. "Get in the bed, Warm up. I'll work on the fire."
With that, she did, if for no other reason than to avoid talking about her long once-over. Though, as she settled in the bed, I could feel her gaze on my back as I piled firewood, opened the flue, stacked some kindling, and reached for a long matchstick.
It was strange and interesting that my back somehow felt warmer before my front did even as the fire burst to life.
"Alright," I said, going back toward the bed, sliding under the blankets, noticing for the first time that the bed was a hell of a lot smaller with two people in it. Meaning we were touching from shoulder to toes. "All set."
"Thank you," she told me, readjusting her blanket pile around her, hand brushing me in the process.
"Jesus," I hissed, reaching out for her hand. "Your hands are like ice," I declared, squeezing her small one between my two bigger ones, chafing some life back into it before reaching for the other.
"I know you'd think there must be something wrong," she said, shaking her head. "But I've been checked out. Everything is fine. I'm just..."
"Lacking an insulation layer?" I suggested, getting a surprised snorting chuckle out of her.
"Yeah, something like that."
"Luckily for you, I run like a furnace. You'll be sweating soon enough," I told her.
Before her gaze dashed away, was that a little bit of heat I'd seen in her eyes?
No.
It couldn't have been.
I mean, it wasn't outside the realm of possibilities that she might think I was good looking, or even charming, but I didn't imagine she had any kind of crush on me or some shit.
I was probably just making her uncomfortable.
"It's getting warmer already," she said a moment later, her rocking back and forth to warm up stopping, letting her settle again, letting out a little sigh that shouldn't have done anything for me, but no one told my cock that as it stirred a bit at the sound.
God, I needed to get laid.
That had to be why I was having strange surges of desire around the office girl, the one we all looked at like a little sister.
Or maybe, it was just the women who did. Maybe I hadn't given Katie much thought either way. Which made me sound like an asshole, but it was the truth regardless. I just didn't notice her that way. Likely because everything about her suggested she didn't want to be noticed that way.
But here, in this cabin, locked up with her, in this bed in particular, I was noticing.
I was noticing a lot.
The feel of her, small and soft.
The smell of her, like coconut and pineapple. Her shampoo or lotion or hair, I didn't know, but I liked it.
Shit.
This was not good.
I needed to get a grip.
"We're going to smell like a campfire," she declared in a small voice a couple of moments later, as I was focusing on getting the desire out of my system, reminding myself that it wasn't the time or place. And this woman did not want to get mixed up with me.
She was all goodness.
And I was a former getaway man aiding armed robbery who currently worked as a male phone sex operator.
I was most parents' worst fucking nightmare for their sweet girls.
And I didn't blame them.
And I didn't fuck around with anyone who didn't know exactly what it meant—meaning nothing—and were happy participants in that kind of hollow interaction.
I wasn't against settling down. Just not yet. It was nice, seeing the Mallick relationships as well as see a couple of my brothers—and my sister—settle down. But it didn't feel right yet. No one felt right yet.
So I was enjoying casual.
But nothing about Katie said she was a casual kind of girl.
And I didn't fuck around with someone's feelings like that.
"Tomorrow morning," she went on when all I'd given her was a grunt about the campfire comment. "I was thinking about making homemade donuts. I can do it on the fire in a pan. It's not healthy, but I—"
"Yes," I cut her off, turning on my pillow to smile at her in the dark. "If the question is donuts, the answer is fucking always yes, baby," I told her. "I'm gonna leave this cabin twenty pounds heavier," I added.
