Hair tousled, sleepy, dusty jaw, he smells like a warm morning embrace. How does one wake up looking so edible? I’ve tossed and turned every night since I’ve been here. I’m so tired that the comfort of his arms calls to me and I let myself imagine for a second what it would be like to sleep next to him.
I’m still in REM asleep. There is no other explanation for the way my mind wanders unchecked.
His eyes roam over my body and I get self-conscious about the flimsy tank top and shorts.
Carter swallows and I’m compelled to press my lips against his Adam’s apple. My brain’s gone haywire from these sleepless nights. Also, I haven’t had any good sex for the past year, which might explain the surprising urge to taste his skin.
“’Scuse me,” I manage to rasp out and his head snaps back, wide stormy eyes full of surprise.
Carter shakes himself out of his stupor and drags a palm over his stubbled jaw, clearing his throat. His entire demeanor changes and the warmth is replaced by his usual chilly aura.
“I know this house is small, but it would be lovely if you didn’t invade my space so often.”
What is wrong with this man? I’m getting whiplash from his mood swings.
“I was just going to the bathroom, not cornering you in the shower.”
The comeback freezes him for a second and the faintest pink dusts Carter’s cheekbones before he scowls.
“Speaking about the shower. Could you be any louder?” He crosses his arms and I involuntarily follow the coil of his muscles. Then I remember his question.
“What’s your problem now?” I ask, exasperated.
“I wake up to the sounds of a drowning puppy. It’s aggravating.”
I grit my teeth. “If it bothers you so much, I’ll gladly go to the other cabin.” At this point, I’d take a bath in the cold lake rather than listen to him complain about me breathing too loudly.
Before he gets to say anything, I squeeze past and slam the door instead of threatening him with my shower rendition of “I Will Always Love You.” I bite my tongue because I’m in no position to give his money back if he decides to leave.
Confrontations also make me break out in hives. Even if he weren’t paying me, I’d probably find somewhere else to shower instead of telling him to get some earplugs.
Carter sits at the small butcher’s block kitchen island, overdressed again. I steal glances at the light gray buttoned shirt and black crease-front trousers while making another attempt at a breakfast his majesty would enjoy.
I can’t help but find it suspicious his mom sent him here. Old habits die hard, and I can’t squash the doubts.
“Did your mom find the cabin online?”
Carter peels his eyes off his tablet with a sigh but decides to be civil this time.
“I doubt she has the time to research places in the middle of nowhere where she can exile her only son.”
He sounds dejected, a grown man pouting like a teenager sent to his room by his mom. It’s hilarious, but the issue still bothers me.
“I still find it odd a person like you would stay in this type of rental.”
“A person like me?” Carter raises an eyebrow and I feel foolish and classless for pointing out he’s rich.
He obviously is. Carter moves with the confidence of a man who has everything. Who grew up surrounded by the finest things. Who knows the difference between types of wine and spoke French with his grandparents.
Jared once said nobody wants to rent a cabin filled with junk because I kept adding refurbished pieces. I thought the place looked nice, but that was before having Carter in the same space.
“What I meant…” I fumble. Embarrassment flushes my cheeks, and I don’t know how to get out of the hole I dug myself into.
Carter pins me with his stare, a hint of amusement crossing his features.
“Someone in her team probably sent her a shortlist of places near my uncle.” He decides to overlook my blunder and I jump at the change of topic.
“Oh, you have family around here?” Maybe he’ll decide to spend more time with them, and I won’t have to stew in this uncomfortable mishmash of embarrassment and secrets.
