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When she opened her eyes, the gauzy veil of dawn touched the room. There were no arms around her, no Shane in her bed, and the phantom pleasure of his touch faded with reality. She sat up and caught sight of Shane in the wide wooden chair, his legs splayed out, his cheek pressed into the cushioned back, and a throw over his shoulders.
He couldn’t even sleep with her?
Just dreams. Just like everything about them. Fantasy and dreams. She had to remember that. There could be fun on the road, but it had to stay fun.
She slid out from under the sheets and got dressed. Shane slept on while she used the bathroom and French braided her hair to keep her curls under control. She stared into the mirror. “At least you have some semblance of decorum.”
“Kendall?”
She gathered her toiletries and went back into the room. “I’m all set. You can have the bathroom.”
He stretched and cracked his neck but wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Okay.” He glided by her, making sure their skin didn’t touch.
The silence between them as they packed was like another person in the room. They passed each other with murmured excuse-mes and no eye contact. Every time he almost touched her, it ratcheted up the tension until she couldn’t stand it. “Why did you sleep in the chair? We slept together fine last night.”
He stacked a pile of shirts until they were a tight cube of cotton and jammed it into the corner of his bag. “I was restless. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“I sleep like a rock.”
He didn’t look up. “I’ve only slept with you once, Kendall. I don’t know that about you.”
She cracked her molars together. “Fine.”
He looked up at that. “Don’t get pissy at me. We agreed to keep this light, remember?”
“Oh, I remember. It was my idea.”
His evergreen eyes chilled. “Ready to go?”
“Definitely.”
She followed him up the stairs, resolutely staring at his boots instead of his perfect ass and his massive shoulders under the cobalt-and-black plaid of his shirt. The tails of his shirt fell just past his belt. Stupid impressive shoulders.
The bustle of children and the scent of sweet syrup and butter hit her on the last step.
“Hi!”
Shane stopped at the doorway, his entire body tense with apprehension. “Hello.”
Kendall peeked around Shane to see the towheaded little boy grinning up at him minus a front tooth. She slid her hand along his lower back, and Shane automatically hooked his arm around her neck. She was pretty sure she had to look like a guppy when he dropped a kiss on her forehead and gave the little boy a raised brow.
The boy transferred his attention to her. “Wow, why do you have old-lady hair? You’re just a girl.”
She laughed and dropped down on one knee. “C’mon, it’s white like Storm from X-Men.”
The kid giggled. “What’re the X-Men?”
Kendall let her chin fall on her chest. Man, when did she get old? Shane snickered behind her, and she kicked him in the shin. “Comic books and cartoons.”
“Oh.” The kid shrugged.
“Thomas!”
“Gotta go. Pancakes are ready!”
Kendall looked up at Shane. His lips twitched. “Oh, be quiet.” She lifted her hand to her hair. Time to put some more blonde in when she got home. She knew her roots were coming in, but she hadn’t realized it was that bad. She stood and followed the voices into the dining room.
A pitcher of juice sat in the center with a bowl of eggs, sausage, and a platter of pancakes.
