Chapter Twelve
Sunny started awake when he heard footsteps on the stairs, rolling over on the couch to watch Grant walk into the living room.
“What’re you doing down here?” Grant asked. “I expected you to still be in bed.”
“I am in bed,” Sunny said. “The heater in my room isn’t working. I guess it could be fixed, but I was too tired and cold to do anything about it.”
“You should’ve woken me up.” Grant scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I coulda fixed it for you.”
“I didn’t want to bother you. I was fine down here.” Sunny wrapped the blanket he’d been sleeping under around his shoulders.
“Well, I wish you’d woken me,” Grant said as Sunny headed for the window, peering out at the blanket of snow that had fallen overnight.
“I didn’t freeze to death. The couch is actually very comfortable.”
The road was covered in snow, and it was still snowing. Sunny had been planning on leaving this morning, but there was no way Grant’s sensible small car would make it down the unfinished road back to the highway in this much snow.
Even if there was some chance it would, he wouldn’t have asked Grant to take the risk.
Behind him, Grant whistled lowly.
“You ever seen snow like this?”
“No, never,” Grant said. “I’ve seen snow and all, but this is… it’s just white for miles.”
“Yeah,” Sunny murmured, feeling Grant’s warmth behind him. The temptation to lean back against him, grab his arms and wrap them around his waist, was almost too strong to resist. “We can’t drive in it.”
“I was starting to come to that conclusion,” Grant said, stepping forward, his shoulder brushing against Sunny’s. “They’ll clear the roads. In the meantime, I was thinking pancakes for breakfast.”
“Are you making them?” Sunny asked, turning his head to look at Grant.
He was beautiful in the morning. He was still in his sensible blue plaid pajama pants and soft-looking grey Henley, and his hair was tousled, and he was the kind of guy who had to shave every morning to look neat.
Scruffy was definitely a look on him. He’d never looked warmer or more comforting than he did right now.
“Of course. You’ve been off the clock since yesterday afternoon, so you’re my guest now. And I was raised to treat guests right,” Grant said.
Sunny had no doubt that was true. Grant was one of few people he’d ever met who he would have called agentlemanwithout any trace of irony.
“So you’re not my boss right now?” Sunny grinned.
Grant chuckled. “I sometimes think you’remyboss. You tell me what to do, I just do it,” he said. “Cute PJs, by the way.”
Sunny blushed at the compliment, remembering the reindeer pajama pants he was wearing. At least Grant hadn’t said anything about him sleeping in a hoodie for warmth.
“Thanks. I have a whole collection of Christmas ones,” Sunny admitted. “I appreciate your more grown-up choices, too. Although I think you could pull off novelty pajamas and still manage to look like an adult.”
“Probably the greys. Once your hair starts going, people just assume you must have your shit together.”
Sunny raised an eyebrow. “Did you justswear?”
Grant shrugged. “You’re off the clock. I’m not your boss right now. I’m allowed to swear around you. Unless, uh…” Grant scratched the back of his neck. “That is, unless you’d rather I didn’t?”
“No, please, by all means,” Sunny said. “It’s kinda cute, actually.”
“Cute?” Grant asked, his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline.
Sunny wet his lips, realizing he probably shouldn’t have said that, but deciding to stick to it all the same. “I stand by my assessment.”
