Page 110

“I've been here approximately five minutes, fancy.”

“An unforgivable five minutes.”

I catch his hand and pull him toward the terrace doors. He follows, laughing, and when I turn to look at him, he catches me around the waist and kisses me.

It’s brief, warm, and entirely unfair.

When he draws back, I stare at him. “What was that for?”

“Because you looked like you needed it.”

“I was thinking about the hot tub.”

“Sure you were.”

I swat his chest, and he laughs again, catching my hand and kissing my palm before he lets me go.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing, fancy.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you know something I don't.”

His smile deepens. “Maybe you should ask yourself what you're hiding.”

I open my mouth, then close it again, which only makes him laugh.

“Arrogant bastard.”

“Beautiful bastard, though.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop smiling. He catches my hand before I can turn away, his fingers warm and solid around mine. For one stupid, unguarded moment, I wish I could stay exactly where I am, with nothing waiting beyond this afternoon.

The thought unsettles me enough that I tug him toward the terrace. “Come on. I want to find this hot tub.”

He pulls me back, bringing my back against his front. “Your coat is wet. I’ll start a fire so it can dry.” His fingers grip my collar, brushing against my neck every so often as he eases it down on one side. “While I get wood, you curl up on the couch with a blanket and get warm.”

Iget up from the couch and hurry to the door to let Rez in.

Unable to help myself, I smirk. “Impressive wood you have there.”

I swear he growls as he passes by. “Plenty of dry wood in a shed behind the garage to keep this place toasty for months.”

The fire catches quickly, flames curling around the wood and filling the room with warmth and the sharp scent of burning pine. Rez watches it for a moment as he takes off his coat and boots. He drapes our coats over the old iron rack beside the fireplace, spreading them across the rails where the heat can reach them without scorching the fabric. Then he lowers himself onto the couch beside me, close enough that his thigh presses against mine through the blanket.

I lean into his shoulder. “So, what are you going to do without a television?”

"Suffer."

"Dramatically?"

"Obviously."

I laugh. “You could order one. Maybe they deliver up here.”