“I love it.” I stop turning and look out the windows into the forest, noticing a big building tucked into the woods with two glass rolling bay doors. “What’s that?”
“My bike, a couple of four-wheelers, and some of the backup equipment for the lodge.” He comes to stand at my side. “I’ll show you around the property later, but for now, I’m gonna get you your pill. While you rest, I’m going to take my bike down to pick up my truck and go to the grocery store, since the fridge is basically empty except for a couple of eggs.”
“I can drive you,” I tell him, and he gives me a look that has me holding up my good hand. “Or not.”
“Yeah, or not.” He leans in, touching his lips to my forehead. “Be right back.” He turns and heads outside, and a few minutes later, he returns carrying my bags and his. He takes them down a hall, then reappears holding my pill bottle.
“Thanks.” I meet him in the kitchen, where I take my pill and the glass of water he hands to me.
“You wanna hang out here, or do you wanna lie down in bed and try to sleep?” he asks as I swallow the pill down.
At the reminder that I’ll be spending the week in his bed, my face warms, which is ridiculous, given the fact that I’ve already slept beside him every night since I got here. “If the pill hits me like it did last night, I’ll probably fall asleep.” I hold up my hand. “Dr. Smooth said the pain would only last a couple of days. I hope he’s right, because I hate taking these pills and sleeping so much.”
“It just happened yesterday. It’s going to take a day or two for the pain to become manageable. Right now, rest is the best thing you can do to heal.”
“I guess.” My nose scrunches. “This just isn’t how I thought we’d spend the first few days of our week together,” I say, and his eyes seem to darken, which sends a thrill down my spine. Besides kissing, he’s kept everything PG—something I appreciate, even if it is making me a little antsy.
“It’s just day one.” He pushes away from the counter. “Anything special you want me to pick you up from the store while I’m there?”
“Veggies, fruit, yogurt, snack bars, those kinds of things.” I dig into my bag for my wallet and grab what cash I have, holding it out to him.
“I’m not taking your money.” He frowns at my hand with the same frown he gave me earlier when we were arguing about me driving myself here.
Here we go again. “Tanner, I can pay for my own food.”
“I know you can, but you’re not going to.” He takes the cash and tosses it toward my bag, and I watch it fly across the counter and teeter on the edge. “I’ll show you the room, then hit the road.”
“You did not just do that.” I shake my head in disbelief as he drags me behind him down the hallway.
“Sunshine, I don’t want to spend the next ten minutes arguing with you about taking your money, especially when I’m not going to do it. I’m skipping that argument so I can go and get back here.”
“Great. I’m already learning something about you,” I tell his back.
“What’s that?”
“You’re unbelievably annoying.” I sigh as he pushes open the door to his room and stops just inside.
“You’re just upset you’re not getting your way. You’ll get over it.” He grins down at me, then points to a door off to the right of the king-size four-poster bed that matches the two dressers and side tables. “Bathroom is through there, TV remote is next to the bed, and your stuff is in the closet if you want to change.” He turns toward me, cups my face in his large palms, and kisses me, making me forget I was annoyed with him just a moment ago. “I shouldn’t be gone long.”
Licking my lips, I nod, and his eyes drop to my mouth, causing my belly to dip.
“Rest up. I’ll be back.” He touches his lips to mine once more quickly, then lets me go and heads out the door. With nothing else to do, and already feeling sleepy from the lack of sleep last night and the pain pill, I slip out of my flip-flops, crawl into his bed, and fall asleep with a smile on my face.
Chapter 15
CYBIL
As the smell of something delicious filters through my sleep-addled mind, my stomach rumbles and my eyes flutter open. It takes a minute to remember where I am, and when I do, I sit up and search for a clock. Not finding one in sight, I look to the window, noticing that the light outside has dimmed drastically.
Pushing my hair out of my face, I get up and head to the bathroom, and after taking care of business, I wash my good hand and check out my appearance. The braid I put my hair into this afternoon is falling out, and my mascara has smudged under my eyes. I pull out the tie and undo the braid, which leaves my hair a mass of waves, then wipe the mascara off the best I can.
With nothing to do about the wrinkles covering my thin cotton T-shirt dress and too lazy to change, I leave the room barefooted and follow my nose to the kitchen. I find Tanner wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a white tee, standing in front of the stove. Like he senses me, he turns, and a smile lights his eyes. “I figured if I started cooking, you’d wake up.”
“You were right.” I step up to his side and rest my head that still feels heavy on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around my waist. “What are you making?”
“I called Blake’s mom to get some ideas for dinner when I was at the store, and she gave me a simple recipe for fajitas that she promised I couldn’t fuck up.”
Laughing, I tip my head back toward him while my heart melts that he took the time to call someone and find out something to cook for me. “Well, it smells delicious.” And it does. Between the peppers, onions, mushrooms, and seasoning, my mouth is watering.
“Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells.” He leans in for a kiss, so I lift up on my toes, meeting him halfway. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Yeah, but I slept a lot longer than I thought I would.”
“You were tired.” He shrugs, then lifts his head and frowns when there’s a loud knock on the front door.
“Expecting someone?”
“No.” He hands me the spatula he was holding. “Can you keep an eye on this?”
“Sure.” I take it, and he kisses the top of my head before leaving the room. A moment later I hear the front door open, then what sounds like a woman speak. Feeling something uncomfortable settle in the pit of my stomach, I set down the spatula, then quietly peek around the corner and watch an older woman with dark-brown hair that’s cut into a stylish bob place a few plastic containers into Tanner’s hands. She then reaches up to pat his cheek affectionately.
“You can come in and meet her,” Tanner says, turning in my direction, so I duck back quickly and rush to the stove, pretending I wasn’t just spying on him. A second later, the two of them appear around the corner, and I know instantly that the woman is Blake’s mom. They might not have the same hair color, but her eyes and features are almost identical to her son’s.
“Cybil, I’d like you to meet Janet, Blake’s mom. Mom, this is Cybil,” Tanner says, setting the containers on the island, completely missing the way her face softened when he called her Mom.