Chapter Eighteen
Iwoke tothe low rumble of thunder. The bedroom was dim, making it difficult to tell what time it was, but I felt rested. Sated. I must have slept in.
I shifted in the bed, reached out an arm, and encountered cool sheets. Lifting up on an elbow, I looked around and discovered I was alone in Landen’s gigantic bed. The bathroom door was open and the lights were off. Glancing at the nightstand in front of me, I realized there was no alarm clock. I checked the table on the other side of the bed. Still no clock.
Frowning, I sat up, then I spied my purse sitting at the end of the bed next to a t-shirt and my panties. A reluctant smile curved my mouth as I climbed out of bed and walked to the foot of the mattress. My shoes were sitting next to each other, neatly, but my jumpsuit was nowhere to be seen.
Apparently, Landen wanted me to wear his tee. I slipped on the shirt and my underwear before I unzipped my purse and pulled out my phone.
10:08 a.m.
My eyes widened. I hadn’t slept past nine in years. Clearly, Landen Weber-induced orgasms had a sedative effect. Tossing my phone on the bed, I wandered into the bathroom to take care of morning business. When I emerged from the little room that held the toilet, I walked to the sink, pausing when I saw a brand new toothbrush sitting on the counter next to a tube of toothpaste.
As I washed my hands, I stared at the bright red toothbrush. It was a thoughtful gesture, which surprised me though it shouldn’t have. Landen had already proven that he could be thoughtful when he wanted to be. I opened the package and brushed my teeth. Once I was done, I was presented with another problem.
Did I put it in the holder with his toothbrush? Tuck it in my purse? Shit, this was weird. Any other time and I would have used it, tossed it in the holder next to his, and gone about my business. But all the men I’d dated seemed to get weird if I left something at their house, even by accident. As though a toothbrush made a much bigger statement. And I didn’t want to do something to upset the easy flow that Landen and I had established.
Landen and I had already had a discussion about exclusivity and he made it clear that he wanted me to himself and intended to give me the same. He also left this out for me, so maybe he wouldn’t get weirded out.
I was still dealing with my internal debate when another clap of thunder rumbled through the house and I jolted. I decided to leave the damn thing on the counter and let Landen figure out what he wanted to do with it.
I placed the toothbrush on the counter neatly beside the toothpaste and splashed my face with cool water, hoping that it would help me get my head on straight. Then I left the bathroom and exited the bedroom. Other than the sound of rain and the occasional boom of thunder outside, the house was silent.
For a moment, I wondered if Landen had left me here alone. I walked slowly down the stairs. When I hit the bottom, I caught a whiff of coffee and felt an odd sense of relief.
I meandered into the kitchen, taking in the house in the gloomy light of the cloudy day. Even with the overcast sky, there was a lot of natural light in each room, just as I suspected last night. On a bright day, it was likely to be full of sunshine.
The kitchen was empty when I entered, but there was a clean cup, a sugar bowl, and a spoon next to the coffee maker. Clearly, Landen had left them out for me. I made myself a cup of coffee and went to the fridge to see if there was milk. To my surprise, Landen had flavored creamer.
I finished making my coffee the way I liked it and returned the creamer to the fridge. Then I went in search of the man of the house.
I walked through the living area and saw that the door to Landen’s office was open, so I moved down the hall toward it. I came to a halt just inside the door, mostly because it looked like a tech store had exploded inside the room.
Landen hadn’t been lying last night when he said it was a mess. Wires, equipment, and monitors littered the floor. But what caught my full attention was the man sitting at the desk across the room.
He lounged in his chair and I could see his legs stretched out beneath his desk, his ankles crossed and his feet bare. He wore loose cotton pants that gathered around his ankles. Though the enormous monitor hid his upper body, the top half of his face was visible behind the monitor and his focus was completely engrossed by whatever was on the screen. A cup of coffee steamed on the desk to his left but his hands were obviously on the keyboard because I could hear him typing rapidly.
I shifted and he must have seen me out of the corner of his eye because his gaze snapped up and caught on me hovering in the doorway. Then he smiled.
“Good morning,” he greeted. His voice was lazy and a little sleepy. Delicious.
Then he stood, revealing the fact that he was shirtless. It wasn’t until then that I noticed his short hair was a mess, spiky and sticking up all over his head as though he’d been running his hands through it. Or maybe that was from me last night.
Either way, he looked relaxed, as though he’d just woken up, and insanely yummy. I watched as he came around the desk, miraculously missing all the detritus on the floor.
His smile widened as he approached. “Are you still asleep?” he teased.
I realized I was essentially drooling at the sight of him and forced myself to sip from my cup. “Mostly,” I replied. “Morning. Thanks for making coffee.”
He stopped just in front of me and slipped his arms around my waist, pulling my hips flush with his. “I know how you get without your caffeine fix in the morning.”
Who in the heck was this guy? The arrogance he typically wore like a shield was gone, completely and utterly. The dominating and demanding man from last night had vanished as well. In his place was a man who smiled easily and teased me openly, even affectionately.
It was as if Landen Weber had multiple versions of himself. Clones maybe? Or maybe robots. He was brilliant enough to pull it off.
He stared down at me, his expression still amused. “Earth to Chelsea,” he murmured.
“Sorry,” I muttered, lifting my coffee cup. “I can’t seem to get my brain in gear this morning.”
