“Thanks for staying here.”
“No problem.”
“And one more thing—no women.”
Garrett waggled his brows and Davis’s gut tightened.
“I mean it, Garrett. I don’t want out of town fans who are obsessed with you knowing where I live. If you don’t mind, take them back to your house.”
“Fine, fine,” he replied, waving him off. “But can you do something to return the favor?”
Grinding his teeth, Davis ambled toward the front door where he picked up his bag waiting there. Cooper followed on his heels. As if Davis owed Garrett anything. He’d already given him two years of his life. What more could he possibly want from him?
“Yeah? And what’s that?” he asked over his shoulder.
“I’m being serious here. Relax. Forget about the show, and the cameras, and the fans. And just have a good time. Have fun. If you remember how, that is.” Garrett smirked.
Davis’s shoulders relaxed. “Thanks.” He crouched and scratched Cooper on both ears. The dog licked his face. “See ya, Coop. Be a good boy. Take care of Garrett,” he whispered.
* * *
Davis pulledhis pickup into the Whitleys’ driveway and put it in park. He ran his hands down his pant legs and debated getting out of the truck. What was the etiquette here? This wasn’t a date. They were simply two friends heading out of town together.
Except they weren’t. This was more. They were driving to the city. They were staying in a hotel.
Davis groaned and ran his palms over his freshly shaven face. What had past Davis been thinking? Booking only one hotel room for the two of them. Pre-plumbing mishap, the one room wouldn’t have been a problem. They’d shared a hotel room numerous of times. Hell, before Ricky entered the equation, they’d even shared a bed and neither of them had blinked an eye.
But post-plumbing mishap, post-near kiss, sharing a room felt wrong. He couldn’t stop seeing the wet t-shirt, the vision of it clinging to her skin.
Yep. This was definitely going to be a problem.
Climbing out of the truck, he exhaled a long sigh. He shut the door and took his time shuffling down the pathway to the front steps.
“Get a grip, Vance,” he mumbled under his breath.
The front door swung open before he could even knock.
“Hey,” Kelsey greeted, a wobbly smile on her lips.
She was dressed in gray slacks and a matching suit jacket with a blue silky blouse underneath. He’d never seen her look so professional, and it was off-putting. It wasn’t her. But the brightly colored shirt brought out the blue in her eyes. That along with the low v of the blouse giving him a decent view of her tempting cleavage was doing a fine job of distracting him from the depressing suit.
“Hey?” Davis tugged at the collar of his flannel where he’d left the top few buttons undone, mostly he did it out of spite to his producer, Franklin. He’d leave as many buttons undone or done up as he damn well pleased.
She dipped her chin to the side, exposing skin he was suddenly fantasizing pressing his lips against.
“Davis,” June exclaimed, shoving past Kelsey and launching herself in Davis’s arms.
He caught her midair and swung her around. She reared back to get a better look at him, furrowing her brows.
“You look funny.”
Davis chuckled.
She patted both of his cheeks in her hands. “Where’d all your hair go?”
He shaved his face earlier that day. He wished he could’ve said it had been on impulse. But no, he’d thought about it, and he knew how much it bothered Kelsey when he kept a constant unshaved look. Davis’s gaze flickered to Kelsey. “I wanted to make your mama smile.”
Kelsey’s cheeks blushed a soft red and she tucked her hair behind her ears.
