With my phone in hand, I pulled up my Nest camera app to see who it was. I knew it was either Amazon or Boden, most likely the latter, which made me smile. Since my accident and the night he stayed over, we’d formed a relaxing friendship, one I didn’t expect or think I’d welcome.
“Quick, lock the door behind you,” I instructed him, failing to make eye contact while I rushed back to the couch.
“Let’s start with you, Marc, and see what you’ve made for us today,” the head host, Eloise, announced.
“That was quite the welcome,” Boden teased as I felt the couch dip beside me. “I see your obsession with disastrous baking shows is still thriving.”
“Shh.” I waved him off. “Oh my . . .” I placed my wineglass on the table, slumped back onto the couch, and covered my mouth as a burst of giggles spiraled up from the depths of my belly to the point I had legitimate tears pooling in my eyes and clouding my vision.
“What the fuck is that? I mean, is it even the slightest bit edible?” Boden critiqued in disbelief.
“Right!” I quipped, just as I felt his hand squeeze my knee.
I froze.
My breath turned shallow, and time halted.
Since the night I agreed to take Boden’s advice and take things one day at a time, we’d done just that. Shelved any sensitive conversations and kept things light and surface level. We toed the line with precision, but it didn’t mean the pull between us didn’t exist just because we never dared to cross it.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
As the heat from his palm radiated through the thin fabric covering my legs, I willed my thoughts to simmer. To dismiss the feeling, the simplicity his touch elicited within just as it struck me he was still wearing his police uniform. And hot damn, if the pile of cake crumble and chunks of fondant didn’t look edible, he sure as hell did. To the point, I straightened my spine and felt my cheeks flush.
My heart pounded in my chest feverishly, filtering the baking show’s volume to a dull roar. Our eyes held purchase over one another long enough for me to sense tension swirling before his whiskey gaze dropped to my mouth, causing me to jump to my feet.
“Can I get you a drink?” I offered with a shaky breath.
“Sure, I’d love a beer if there’s any left?”
Since my SUV rental was a write-off and I wasn’t too keen on going out, there was no point in renting another vehicle only to have it sit in the driveway, so I adapted quite nicely to using a grocery delivery service. Between that and Amazon, all my needs were met.
Well, almost.
“It was on my list when I placed my last online order, but apparently, I accidentally clicked the button for no substitutions, and they never called to confirm, so all I can offer you is rum and coke, or I’ve got an open bottle of red wine.”
“I’ll take the rum and coke if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Continue to make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”
When I re-entered the living room, Boden had removed his utility belt, bulletproof vest, and black uniform dress shirt, leaving his top half in a white undershirt. His magnificently built biceps were on full display as he flexed his fingers and interlocked them behind his head. I rounded the sectional, extended Boden his drink, and curled my legs under myself as I sat a full couch cushion away, needing to put a sizeable distance between us. Even though I’d seen him several times in uniform, he still took my breath away—Every. Single. Time—and I felt a little embarrassed acknowledging to myself that I’d woken up several times since arriving in Sutton River in a sex-induced sweat from some pretty epic fantasies involving him and the cuffs he had holstered in that utility belt of his.
“How are you feeling today?”
Turned on if the tingling sensation between my legs is of any indication . . .
“Good. I managed to do some yoga earlier and had an Epsom salt bath. I think that really helped with loosening up my muscles.”
“My offer still stands, you know.” He wiggled his fingers as the corners of his mouth tipped up in a smile that did nothing to curb the intensity of the fluttering in my stomach.
“Still looking to add masseuse to your glowing résumé?”
“I’m just saying, these hands have magical powers.”
“Do they now?” I couldn’t contain my laughter.
“Maybe I should get them insured; what do you think?”
“I can’t with you sometimes.” I swatted him with a pillow.
