In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes: Chapter 41
AFTER MY BATH, I padded downstairs and wandered into the kitchen. A record spun circles on the record player. Holden filled a kettle with water while watching sports replays on the TV in the living room. His gaze flicked to me, then my bare feet, before he hit the remote on the counter and turned the TV off.
“It’s fine, you can watch your own TV.”
He shook his head. “I’m just filling the silence.” He tilted his chin at the bar stool across from him. “You want to go to bed?”
Maybe it was the adrenaline rush from earlier still coursing through my veins or the stimulation of being in Holden’s home, but a jumpy twitchiness coursed through me.
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
I slipped up onto the stool and he turned and opened a cabinet. As he reached for a tin, I studied his back muscles and the fascinating way they moved.
“Holden,” I started.
He turned and placed the tin in front of me before retrieving two mugs.
“Your home is beautiful.” I leaned my chin on my palm. His hair was starting to dry all unruly. My fingers twitched, remembering how it felt to drag my hand through it. I rolled my lips together and watched him.
He set his hands on the counter across from me, watching me with an unreadable expression. “Peppermint or chamomile?”
“Peppermint.”
He picked two packets out of the tin, ripped them open, and dropped the tea bags into the empty mugs. Queen’s Cove Accountants—your money will make cents! was printed on one of them. The other was for Disneyland. I slid the accounting mug closer to read it again before I shot Holden a curious smile.
“Are they saying you’ll lose money if you go there?”
He winced. “They were going for a play on words. No one had the heart to tell them.”
I grinned wider down at the mug. His gaze moved over my skin and sent a shiver down my spine. When our gazes met again, my stomach rolled forward.
The air crackled, like the moment before we kissed at the art rave.
The kettle switch popped up and Holden blinked and turned to pick it up before pouring boiling water into each of the mugs.
“Where are your socks?” His voice was low and his gaze stayed on the mugs as he poured.
“I forgot them at the inn.”
He set the kettle down and abruptly walked out of the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a bundle before he dropped to his knees in front of me.
“Foot.” His gaze rose to mine and there was something behind his eyes. Warm, liquid heat. Something sweet, too. Caring and comfortable. My throat squeezed and without a word, I stuck my foot out.
Gentle and slow, he rolled a wool sock onto my foot. His fingers brushed the side of my foot and I twitched. His gaze shot to mine.
“Sorry. Ticklish.”
He smiled and resumed rolling the thick socks onto my feet, past my ankle, over my leggings and halfway up my calves. His touch was so soft and careful but I felt it all the way up my legs to the spot between my thighs. My heart beat between my legs. My gaze locked on him and his hands. Ripples of heat moved through my limbs and my skin felt electric.
Holden putting my socks on shouldn’t be so sexy.
He finished putting the other sock on me and straightened up. “Didn’t want you to have cold feet.”
“Thanks,” I whispered, and more crackles went off around us.
He gave me a short nod before picking up our mugs of tea and tilting his head at the living room. “Come on.”
He followed me to the living room. I turned and his gaze lifted from my backside.
“Were you staring at my ass?”
His eyes flashed with cheeky teasing. “Yes.”
I laughed and took a seat on the sofa, tucking my legs beneath me. He set the mugs on coasters on the coffee table in front of me before retrieving a blanket from the other side of the room, from a basket. He dropped it over me. It was cream, knit, and deliciously heavy and warm.
“Can I get you anything?” The low timber of his voice made me shiver again as he settled onto the couch beside me.
I shook my head and reached for my tea, blowing steam off it. “You don’t need to take care of me.”
“I like taking care of you.”
I bit back a smile and ignored the warm flush in my chest. “I like it, too.”
His eyes warmed when I said that and he relaxed further. His gaze stayed on me.
“I like you here. I don’t want you to leave.”
Did he mean he didn’t want me to leave after tonight, or ever? My pulse picked up, beating hard in my chest.
I swallowed. I could see the surface but I sunk deeper, and the worst part was I loved it here. Not just in his home, but in his life. Panic whirled in my head.
I needed a distraction.
“I have an idea.” I set my mug back on the coaster. “Blanket fort.”
He blinked and bemusement passed over his face.
“When I was a kid,” I explained, “I would get scared during storms so I would make blanket forts.” I stood, surveying the room. “We should make one. Where are your blankets?” I found the basket he had pulled my blanket out of. There were three more in there.
Holden sat frozen on the chair with his head turned toward me, watching me pull blankets out of the basket. “Blanket fort,” he repeated.
“It’ll be cozy and fun,” I told him. I reached out and poked the side of his mouth. His eyes followed my finger and when it touched his lip, the corner jumped. A flash of a smile. My breath caught. “You’re getting so good at having fun, Holden.”