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“But if he’d have been a ghost or a chipmunk, I’d have been on my own.”
“Truth.”
Nick moved past her and back to his room. “I’m getting in this bed. You’re welcome to join me.”
“It doesn’t mean—”
“I know it doesn’t.”
With impeccable timing, as if he and the chipmunk were in cahoots, the scratching got louder. She raced by Nick and hopped into the bed, hiking her feet up as if a monster might pop out from under and grab her ankles.
“You’re on my side,” he said, gesturing for her to slide over. “Unless you want to be closest to the door.”
Wordlessly she slid her body over to the other side of the bed. “You better not tell anyone about this.”
“Which part? Your ridiculous fear of the supernatural or the fact that we slept together.”
“Both?” she said, posing it as a funny question. “And we’re not sleepingtogether.We’re sleeping near each other.”
“Remember that when you try to slide your cold feet over to my side. That signature woman move is not going to fly tonight.”
“You wouldn’t warm my feet?” she asked, playfully pouting.
“Nope.”
“Oh please,” she said, rolling her eyes and lifting her foot up and wiggling her toes. “You would if I asked.”
“We are sleeping near each other,” he reminded her. “Not with each other. So we keep all of our appendages on our side of the bed. So, no cold feet on my side.”
“I could get you to warm up my feet.” She cocked up a brow and patted the bed.
“Oh yeah, how would you do that?”
Cleo licked her lips. “I’d ask nicely,” she said in a sexy whisper. “I’d use my manners. Like a good girl.”
“Oh, damn.” He ran his hand through his hair and drew in a deep breath. “Don’t say, good girl. Don’t say it like that.”
“I could call you daddy,” she said and then bit her lip. “I bet if I asked really nice and called you daddy, that you would—”
“Stop,” he begged, his hand over his chest. “You’re going to be the death of me.” Moving toward the bed, he closed his eyes. “Put your ice cube feet on me. Do whatever you want.”
“You’re too easy,” she said, her voice returning to normal. “I could get you to do anything.”
“Use your powers for good,” he sighed, settling into the bed and fixing his eyes on her. “Or I’ll feed you to the ghost bear.”
With a devilish smile, she slid her ice-cold feet against his legs. “Thanks, daddy,” she whispered, closing her eyes and keeping her lips turned up in amusement.
“You’re more dangerous than anything in this house. That’s for damn sure.”
CHAPTERSIX
Cleo
She’d been so tired that drifting off to sleep was inevitable. She had to give in to her exhaustion even in the creepy house that was making her mind spin. Even if Nick’s warm, tone body was only inches from her.
The morning came in like the tide. Slowly, yet persistently. The birds were first, chirping away as the sun barely crested over the horizon. There was a hazy glow coming through the lace curtains. Then somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed.
Cleo knew where she was well before she opened her eyes. She knew whose arm was draped over her. She was also aware that the moment she stirred, showed she was awake, Nick would let her go. She didn’t want to be let go. So Cleo lay there quietly, waiting for the world to wake up around her, and drank in the warmth and comfort of his arm. There was a curse to being so logical and calculated that it bordered on clairvoyance. She could practically tell their future, and it was bleak.
