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She stepped ever so lightly to the stairs; her palms parallel to the floor as she walked, almost as if they were her balance beam.
“Ask me in the morning, and I’ll gladly kiss you,” I answered, following her up the stairs to make sure she was safely tucked in, giving her a small kiss on her forehead before going back down to the living room. Leaving the board game on the rug, I grabbed my blanket and fell on the couch—there was no way I was going to sleep anytime soon.
The rustling of sheets and the creaky floorboard are what finally woke me from the little sleep I got. I tried to calm my mind, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t shake what Jamie had said just hours before. She wanted me to kiss her. She was waiting for it. She asked for it. And I was too chicken shit to do it.
“Stupid demon stair . . .” she grumbled under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear.
I smiled, a breathy laugh leaving my lungs. “Good morning,” I mumbled back at her, sitting up on the couch. I had slept in my clothes, something I rarely ever did.
Jamie appeared around the fireplace and groaned. Her hair was disheveled, and her shirt was wrinkly. She had managed to change into sleep shorts before I covered his with a blanket, but anyone could tell she had a “fun” night. Her makeup was smudged, her posture was terrible, and the look in her eyes could kill.
And yet, she was still stunning.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, standing to stretch and fold the blanket.
She held up a hand, stopping me from saying anything else. “Don’t. Talk. I need coffee first.”
“And a greasy breakfast. I think I have some sausages I can cook for you.”
“I said . . .” she whispered.
“I know,” I whispered back, “don’t talk.”
Coming up behind her, I ran my hand along her back. I leaned down and kissed her temple, causing her to stiffen. I could feel her eyes on me as I grabbed the coffee and started to work the pot. Did she remember what she said last night? Did she remember asking me to kiss her? A huge portion wanted her to remember, the other small—very small—part, hoped she didn’t.
“Did I . . .” she grumbled, taking a seat at the island, dropping her head on the counter. I inhaled, holding my breath as I waited for her next question. “FaceTime Madeline to play a board game last night?”
Letting my breath out, I laughed. “Yes. You sure did.”
She groaned louder, turning her head side to side on the cold marble. I just smiled as I made her sausages and coffee, setting them in front of her to cure her hangover.
All she had to do was ask me, but that small part of me knew she wouldn’t.
Chapter Twenty
-Jamie-
Iwas never drinking again.
Avoiding Elliot all day was easy, for the most part. He, thankfully, busied himself with Harrison and my dad. They went for a hike, and then to the store, spending the majority of the day away from the cabins. Which was A-OK by me.
I would never—ever—let him know I remembered holding onto him with all my strength last night and practically begging him to kiss me. I know that if he did kiss me, more would have happened. I would have let so much more happen. But Elliot was too much of a gentleman. A gentleman who also said he would kiss me, said that he would show meaffection. A gentleman that may have a different side to him. My mind couldn’t help but wonder what he would be like if we were able to be therealElliot and therealJamie that I had so stupidly mentioned last night. How muchaffection was I missing by having him only pretend. The small kisses on my temple and touches on my back were one thing, but I was starting to crave more.
I tried to shake off any thought I had while I ate dinner with my siblings, immersing myself in the world of restaurants Holden owned. Listening to him talk about expanding his Italian chain made it a tad bit easier to not think about running my fingers over Elliot’s tattoo. I could still feel his skin against my fingertips. This was not going well . . .
No more alcohol for me on this trip. Nope. It wasn’t happening.
Elliot joined us around the table once he and Harrison had finished chopping the firewood. Before he sat down, he leaned down and kissed the top of my head, giving me a smile and sigh as he took his seat. Then he ate, enjoying the food Jillian had made, thanking her profusely. Then, when the kids were in bed and the day was done, we retreated back to the cabin, where I instantly ran upstairs and went to bed. I did not need any more alone time with Elliot Whittaker.
Just as fast as I closed my eyes, my alarm clock blared. It was Wednesday. The first “family day” where we all went to Woodward Adventure Park. There we could ski, the kids could jump on the indoor trampoline, or we could tube down the hill. It was supposed to be a fun day where we all hung out and did things we normally wouldn’t do, but all I could think of was having to be close to Elliot.
I took a shower, giving myself a quick pep talk in the mirror before getting dressed and doing my hair. Elliot was already in the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the small space. I could hear sizzling as well. Avoiding the demon stair, I attempted to quietly walk downstairs.
“There’s no way of being quiet in this cabin is there?” I asked, loud enough for Elliot to hear me.
He let out a loud“HA”in response. “Pretty sure the creaks are permanent. Even if the floors get redone, they will still be there forever.”
I came into the kitchen, noticing he was already dressed and ready for the day. His laptop was open, his emails there for the world to see. There was an email from Clay, one that had a lot of numbers that I couldn’t make rhyme or reason out of.
