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There’s gossip there, almost a tone of friendliness, but I don’t bite. If I want to hear any of this, I’ll hear it directly from Maggie.
As soon as the door closes, I realize we’re going to have a problem. Because suddenly, everything about Jake Sheppard feels intense. And close. Probably because we’re only a few feet from each other.
It also doesn’t help that, in the blinking splashes of the pink and white Christmas lights, the Airstream suddenly feels very romantic. Everything’s cozy and homey and inviting, right down to the throw pillows on my bed.
Not that Jake’s seeing it as romantic, obviously. He’s a jerk, we hate each other, blah, blah. These are my issues, and I can just deal with them.
“I left a clean towel for you in the bathroom,” I tell him, shaking the thoughts from my head. “Kitchen table flips into a bed. I’ll be behind my curtain.”
I turn and walk purposefully to my room, then dramatically tug the curtain shut before he can say a word. Which, did I mention it’s a beaded curtain? So not exactly private, but the bathroom has a real door. I fix my gaze on the window over my bed, intent on not peeking, but I sure as heck listen as he tromps around in the Airstream before he steps into the bathroom. I keep listening as his clothes hit the floor and as he steps into the shower.
I should’ve let him stay in the barn. Being nice was a real dumb idea. Jake Sheppard might be my mortal enemy, but he’s also the hottest example of male perfection I’ve seen in Reindeer Falls in years. And right now, he’s naked in my shower.
I just need to go to sleep. He can do whatever he needs to out there, and I’ll just stay in my room, safe as can be. I don’t need to pay him any mind. I certainly don’t need to think about what his naked body looks like, or wonder what it would be like to touch him.
“Stop it, Sutton,” I scold myself, trying to bury my head in throw pillows to distract myself from the sound of the shower and the visual of a wet, naked Jake.
Mercifully, the man isn’t a long showerer. I hear the water being switched off, followed by the sound of him stepping out of the shower. Then there’s the sound of a door being opened. I peek through my bead curtain and see that Jake’s wrapped one of my fluffy pink towels around his lower half, leaving his back glistening with beads of water.
I squeeze my eyes shut before he can catch me ogling him. Why can’t I just go to sleep? The Airstream smells like lavender, and lavender’s supposed to help you drift off. So why am I completely wired awake right now?
It’s because Jake’s taking his sweet time getting comfortable, I tell myself. He’s banging around out there on the table bed tossing and turning. I can hear the squeaks every time he moves, and if he doesn’t cut it out soon, I might…
“Fine!” I say, louder than I intended as I practically jump out of bed and whip the curtain open. “We can switch beds, okay? Clearly you don’t fit on the convertible bed and I can’t listen to you toss and turn all night.”
He’s reclined with his back against the kitchen booth, attempting to fit his entire body onto the bed by sleeping in a semi-reclined position.
“Are you sure?” Jake asks, looking momentarily surprised by my burst through the bead curtain. “I don’t want to impose.”
This guy.
“You don’t want to impose?” I repeat. “You’re trying to evict me.”
He grunts at my version of this story, shaking his head as he stands. “You’re a squatter. You don’t even have a lease that you’re not paying.”
“You don’t have a lease,” I mockingly singsong back to him, and yeah, I’m aware he’s a hundred percent correct, but he’s not wearing a shirt and I’m not real focused on arguing right now.
I flick my eyes back to his in time to see that he’s absolutely caught me staring. The hint of a grin tugs at his lips as he saunters closer, wearing nothing but a pair of thin gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips. Rock-hard abs, flat stomach. A trail of hair leading from his navel to—
—no. Don’t look. Do not. Ugh. Yeah, I’m looking.
The thing is, I’m a grown-ass woman. And Jake is a grown man. A very, very grown man.
“What are you doing, Sutton?” Jake asks, pausing in front of me and waiting until I drag my eyes up to his. “Are we switching beds or was that offer just a setup to seduce me?” He’s definitely grinning now, like he expects me to squeak out a denial and scurry over to the convertible bed.
