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“Long enough to discover that you crinkle your nose when you dream.” Jax sits up and bops my nose with his index finger.
“And how do you know I was dreaming?” I yawn.
“I can only guess by the peaceful look on your face. You’re pretty when you sleep.” He brushes his hand against my cheek.
“I am actually horrified thinking of what I must look like right now after going to bed with soaking wet hair.” I look around the small bedroom area half thankful there are no mirrors and half wishing I could see my messy appearance.
“I quite enjoy seeing you wake up with tousled hair, but I can’t help but wish I was the one who worked it out of place.”
I jolt back to reality, flashing back to the accident last night.
“How’s Ken?”
“Harry sent a text. He’s all good. Already back at home. He got an early morning flight home. Short, quick one.”
“Good. I was worried about him. He’s such a nice man. I hope his wife wasn’t too worried.” I lean back in his arms. Now that one concern is off my mind, I move onto the next. Headlines. Morning news. I need to call Marisol.
“Do you know what time it is? Or what city we’re even in?”
“I think we’re somewhere in Colorado. Halfway to Minneapolis.” He pulls up a location tracker on his phone.
“Colorado. I’m so excited. It’s so breathtaking in photos.”
“I already have the greatest view,” Jax says.
My life has taken an interesting turn. One minute, I’m signing divorce papers and wondering if I’ll ever find true love, and the next, I’m lying in bed on a tour bus, waking up in the arms of one of the sexiest men alive—according to magazines and me.
“Are we caught up to the rest of the crew?” I ask.
“We should be. Diego is probably on the crew bus sleeping off the night drive. Everyone’s probably anxious to hear about last night.” Jax brings up a good point.
“Do they know I’m on your bus now?”
“I’m sure Harry told them. He hasn’t called me yet. He’s probably giving us some space.” Jax stretches both his arms. Turns out I have a great view, too.
“Speaking of figuring things out, I need to call Marisol.”
“How about this,” Jax says. “We’ll get dressed. I’ll go out and touch base with Harry and the rest of the crew. You can have some privacy and call Marisol.”
Jax and I begin to sit up. I motion to fix my T-shirt that’s sliding down my shoulder. But before I can reach it, Jax notices and gently presses his smooth lips against my shoulder bone. I wish I could imprint that feeling. Jax is totally unaware of the effect the littlest touch from him has over my body. “Then, we’re going out exploring. I still owe you a proper first date.”
“Nice try, giving me something to look forward to while I work up the nerve to confess everything I’ve done wrong to my boss.”
“You got this. And no matter what Marisol says, you got me.”
“Even if she fires me?” I’m only partially joking.
“She’s not going to fire you. Trust me. I’m one of her highest paying clients and she needs to keep me happy.”
“That somehow just makes me feel worse, but thanks for trying.”
Before Jax walks out of the room, he tells me, “No matter what happens with Marisol, I plan on holding you every night and waking up on this bus with you next to me the rest of this tour.”
* * *
Relief. That sums it up. I don’t look as horrible as I imagined as I survey myself in the bathroom mirror. I appreciate that Jax gave me space to get ready alone. The smell of his cologne lingers in the air and I don’t mind at all. As I fix myself, I wonder how the conversation outside is going, but I need to focus on my own dialogue. Once I muster up the courage, I dial Marisol’s number.
“Cailin, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Marisol says. She doesn’t even say hello. Maybe the accident will help me get some sympathy points.
