Page 43 of Double Booked

“It’s inside.”

“A lot of good that does us.”

“Well, at least you have a jacket with a hood.”

“You left your jacket at home too? Some boy scout you are,” she teased.

“It’s only water,” he said as the rain pelted the windshield. He’d been so discombobulated when he’d left that morning that he’d forgotten to pack a jacket and umbrella. “Ready? On the count of three.”

She gave him a funny look as she flipped up her hood.

“One, two…”

Before he finished counting, she opened the door and stepped out. With her head down, she raced to the front door and waited for him.

As soon as he exited the car, the rain came down even harder, soaking him through in seconds. She was laughing as he unlocked the door and they tumbled inside.

He pulled his wet shirt away from his chest. “I’m soaked.”

Her gaze roamed over him. “You need to get out of those clothes.”

His lips quirked at the implication, and she turned away. “I’ll start a fire,” she said, sounding flustered.

“Sounds dangerous,” he teased.

“I meant to say, I’ll turn it on.”

He chuckled, resisting the urge to tease her some more. “I’ll go change.” He shucked off his boots, and went upstairs, dripping water as he went. In his bedroom, he stripped out of his wet clothes and hung them over the shower door to dry. Then he padded naked to the dresser. In the meantime, he heard her moving around downstairs and smiled.

There was something different about her tonight, like she’d let down her guard some. The fact that she hadn’t relegated him to his room for the evening was also a good sign. He debated for a moment and pulled out a pair of navy-blue sleep pants and a white T-shirt. Since he didn’t plan on going anywhere, he might as well be comfortable. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and padded back downstairs in bare feet.

She was sitting on the couch facing the fireplace, and there were two mugs on the coffee table.

“Coffee at this hour?”

She shook her head. “Hot chocolate.”

He smiled and sat down. “Sounds good.” He picked up the mug and blew across the top of it before taking a sip.

Glancing over, he saw she was clutching her mug in both hands and staring at the fire.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Any more texts from—?”

“No,” she replied before he finished.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, but it was a comfortable quiet. Still, he thought something was bothering her and came up with an idea. “Do you want to play a game?”

She whipped her head toward him. “What kind of game?”

He bent down and opened the drawer of the coffee table, revealing several games inside.

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t even know those were there.”

“I checked everything out when I first arrived,” he said. “We’ve got all the classics: Life, Clue, Monopoly, Scrabble…”