“Oh goodness.” She lay stretched out on top of him like a blanket. Her panic came on quickly. The panic increased when she recognized the impressive bulge pressing against her abdomen.
With lightning speed, she rolled off him. Which might have been a good move had they not been on the edge of the bed. She landed with a thump on the floor, face down. She turned her head and rubbed the end of her nose. Moving her hand, she found herself staring at a men’s pair of jeans and a shirt on the floor. One thought did a fast track around the corners of her sleep-dazed mind. If his clothes were down here, then what was he wearing up there?
Suddenly a pair of large feet landed a few inches from her face. He knelt. His position offered the answer to her question. His position also offered a better vista. A three-dimensional vista. Knees, round and dusted with hair, behind them extended thighs with firm muscles, and, holy moly, the man filled out his pair of navy boxers quite nicely. She stared, blinked, and stared some more.
Reality hit. Ogling a man’s crotch was not polite. She turned her head, resting on her other cheek, and eyed the fabric fuzz on the top of the tan vacuum-damaged carpet.
“You okay?” His hands reached down as if to help her up.
“Fine.” She let him help her stand and then she stepped away. She’d seen him shirtless last night and had been impressed, but now she had the whole package, well except for the boxers, and, oh boy.
“Bathroom.” She lunged forward, but her foot wedged in his jeans. She tripped. He caught her around her waist, pulling her into his hot, almost naked body. Her hands and cheek pressed against his chest, and she pushed back.
He studied her, his hands still on her waist. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” Her pulse sang while her heart tried to hum along.
He moved his hand from her waist and touched her cheek. His smile appeared sleepy and sexy. “Your nose is red.” His voice came out husky with an early-morning drawl that oozed over her like warm honey.
“That happens when I fall on it.”
He chuckled. “You’re cute in the morning.”
Rolling her eyes, she went to the bathroom and tried to find some of her dignity. And she knew exactly where to look for it—in the toilet.
~
It took two cups of the diner’s strong coffee before Cali was able to put the embarrassment aside of waking up on top of him. She still wasn’t sure how he’d talked her into coming here, but she suspected it had something to do with his saying please.
With caffeine pumping in her veins, she found a question that needed to be answered. “Did someone appoint you as my bodyguard?”
He dropped the menu and held his coffee cup between two palms. “I thought we covered this last night.”
“Yeah, but I just don’t get it.” She took a deep breath and the smell of something cinnamon, like French toast, wafted as a waitress skirted by. Cali’s stomach grumbled and she realized she was actually hungry. “Have you been assigned to me?”
He pulled his cup to his lips. “Not officially.”
“Then unofficially, have you been told to protect me?”
“No. Why?”
“Because...” She reached for her own cup and hot liquid spilled from her heavy mug. “I’m just trying to figure out how we got here.” Unwrapping her silverware, she let it clank against the dark veneered table.
“I think we walked across from the hotel,” he answered with humor.
She frowned. “You know what I mean. I’ve know you less than a week and now I’m waking up in bed with you.” She soaked up the coffee with a napkin and raised her gaze. “Is this what you do, go around saving damsels in distress?”
His eyes crinkled into a sexy smile. This morning, he wore a black T-shirt. Over the snug fitting cotton fabric, he’d donned a light blue buttoned-down shirt, which he left open. “You’re a damsel?”
“I’m a serious damsel.” She arranged her silverware. “How did we go from me not liking you to this?”
He pressed his forearms to the table and leaned so close she could smell the coffee and toothpaste on his breath. And since he didn’t have any toothpaste, he’d probably borrowed hers. Had he used her toothbrush, too? Why not? They shared meals, a bed. What was a toothbrush thrown in?
“I don’t know how we got here,” he said. “But I’m not complaining. Are you?”
“It’s scary,” she confessed.
He frowned and leaned back. “What can I do to make it less scary?”
She considered it. “Give me a break from you.”
He frowned. “What about Stan? I’d think he might scare you more.”
She considered that, too. “He does.”
“Then I say we just move slowly. No pressure.”
She inhaled. “I guess.”
Time ticked by while they each stared at the menu. “The omelets are good,” he said, but Cali continued to hide behind the menu.
“What are you having?” He reached across and lowered her menu so he could see her. “No silent treatments, okay?”
She frowned. “Eggs and toast. And I’m not sharing my breakfast with you.” It was a silly thing to say, but she felt the need for some barriers.