I sighed and closed my laptop. The files were transferring. I really could leave it be.
Instead I picked up my e-reader and climbed into bed on my side. Alex grunted again.
“Hush, I’m getting settled, and I’ll be super quiet, I promise.”
I curled up on my side, my e-reader in hand, and settled into my book. Then I felt a twitch on the bed. And then again.
Oh my god, Alex was out like a light already. He may be a light sleeper, but he fell asleep quickly.
I worked my way through a few pages of my book and then Alex shifted on the bed behind me. I almost jerked as an arm snaked its way around my waist, a warmth pressing against my back. The straps of my tank top barely covered my upper back, and Alex’s bare skin pressed against me.
Who knew Alex was a cuddler.
I stifled a chuckle and kept reading, Alex’s breath warm and heavy on the back of my neck. It was funny, at first, but then it shifted. He was heavy and comfortable, and I wanted to snuggle myself in closer.
But Alex was a light sleeper, and I stayed still for fear of waking him up and having to face his ire again.
I did, however, keep an eye on the time, and as the clock ticked toward the hour, I braced myself for the banging of drums and the ensuing flailing.
Alex did not disappoint. The drums pounded, and Alex sharply inhaled over my shoulder and immediately jerked into action. Since I was braced this time, Alex’s momentum carried him sailing off his side of the bed.
I couldn’t have hoped for better.
I shoved my face in my pillow to try to muffle my laughter, but that was a worthless endeavor. I turned my head and watched Alex rise, bleary through my tears. His face was flushed, jaw gritted.
Wiping tears from my eyes, I sat up. “Alex,” I gasped out, trying for mock horror and failing horribly. “You are a cuddler!”
He brusquely wrenched the sheets up to the top of the bed, quite unnecessarily, since our bed was made every afternoon while we were out on safari. “I am not.”
The apparent indignity against my proclamation made me laugh harder, and Alex stomped off to use the facilities. He said nothing to me as he gathered his things.
“Oh Alex, come on. Don’t be a grump. I’m just teasing.”
He stopped just inside the flap of the tent. “Did you like it?”
My laughter died. “Did I like what?”
“Did you like it when I cuddled you?” he asked. The graveness of the question swept the humor out of the room like a chilling breeze.
I swallowed hard.
“Maybe,” he said, just before ducking out the door, “that’s why you need some time away from me.”
9
“Hold the drink a bit higher,”called Sam. I lifted the bee’s knees cocktail up a bit higher and hoped she knew what she was talking about. I had the camera set up on a tripod, the framing down to a tee, so I supposed her feedback was better than her trying to adjust the camera.
It was odd to sit for my own camera with someone else in control. Sometimes I set it up for myself with a remote clicker to trigger the shutter, but more often I was the one behind the lens. Or at least I had been with Ion.
“Okay, I think we got it.”
I put the cocktail down and sauntered over to the camera. I looked through the photos and breathed a sigh of relief. They were perfect. Daylight was fading, and we were losing the light, but this photo was exactly what I had in mind. I was facing away from the camera, my wide-brimmed hat making me unrecognizable as I looked out toward the colorful sky, a cocktail in hand and oil torches lighting the deck around me.
Just perfect.
“Sam, this is fabulous. You are doing such a great job.” She ducked her head, and we both grinned. “Okay, last one. To the bar!” I pointed skyward in a tally-ho gesture, and we laughed.
“That is where everyone wants to be,” she confirmed.
