Page 56 of How Dare You
After we help her friends load up their car and wave them off, she moves immediately to the daybed, sitting on the end of it in the same place I had her last night. I suspect it’s not a coincidence. Devon’s been a cocktease all day, finding ways to rub against me, give me a glimpse down her shirt, lick her lips. Anything, to make sure I don’t forget what we did last night. How could I?
After a full day of entertaining her friends and having to keep my hands off of her, I’m dying to have her close. But I told her I wouldn’t initiate. If Devon and I are ever truly going to be together, she has to learn to surrender, has to learn that she’s safe when I’m in control. Seeing her lit up by the fire, just like she was last night, I’m tempted to give in. I want to prove to her that one night wasn’t enough, but it’s more important that she figures it out on her own. That she comes to me.
We make it through dinner with casual conversation, no mention of anything that happened last night. Even though they’re her best friends, her social battery has to be drained, so I give her space. We plug in the bistro lights, and she draws in one of her notebooks by their light in the warmth of the campfire while I read my book and try not to think about touching her. I’m unsuccessful, retaining nothing from the pages I read.
She seems completely unaffected until she walks past me when it’s time to head in for bed. She trails a slender finger across my stomach as she walks by. “Night, trailer daddy.”
But when we’re in bed, she doesn’t initiate anything, and I keep my word and my hands to myself.
Chapter 23
Day Eleven
You deserve some rest. I won’t be gone long.
-Trailer Daddy (I’m never giving this up.)
I could get used to it.
-Devon
-Notes on the whiteboard, August 31st
Devon
My morning starts with two new experiences. One, I do something Rhett told me to do, without having a mental battle over it first. Two, I rest completely. I don’t go for a run. I don’t go out to the reception rock to check my texts or my voicemails, even though Nathalie from Live Your Best Life in Palm Springs left me one a couple days ago that I haven’t had a chance to check yet. Her blog feature on local women entrepreneurs doesn’t come out until late next week. It can wait.
I don’t even know what time it is.
Instead, I’m curled up on the daybed outside, wearing the clothes I slept in last night, my satin pajama shorts and Rhett’s Banjo’s BBQ t-shirt, drinking coffee I didn’t have to brew, tucked under a blanket I don’t intend to fold when I get up. Okay, that part isn’t true. I’ll still fold the blanket. I’m not a monster.
I must fall asleep because I wake up to Rhett’s weight shifting the daybed. “Devon Blake, you took a nap.”
I smile up at my pink-flamingo purgatory companion. “I think I did.”
“Has that ever happened before?”
I consider the question. “Not that I recall.”
“You’re a really cute sleeper,” he says, brushing the hair off my forehead. Heat rushes to my cheeks, the foreign sensation surprising us both. Cute’s not a word I hear used to describe me. Aside from the usual comments about my somewhat bristly demeanor, men usually tell me I’m sexy, or hot, or if they’re feeling particularly creepy, a tall drink of water. Cute has an endearing connotation I’m not accustomed to. “Do you want to keep napping?” he asks.
I check my watch, sitting up. I’ve already wasted the entire morning. But lying here in the shade was so nice. He leans back into the over-stuffed pillows next to me, stretching his long legs out in front of us, his hips pressed up against mine. That’s nice too. When I look back at him, he’s lounging behind me, eyes closed, head leaning back on his folded arms, unconcerned with my response.
His muscled chest provides a more inviting prospect than any of my other options, so I decide to stay, lying down to rest my head on it and wrap my leg over his hips. He makes a satisfied rumble that I would have missed if not for our current position, and drapes one of his arms around my back.
“I don’t think I can fall asleep again,” I tell him.
“We don’t have to sleep,” he says, “But it’s nice to lie here like this.”
We fall into the kind of easy quiet I’ve only experienced with my closest friends, and I get the sense he won’t push me to talk, even though we both know we need to. Closing my eyes, I listen to the steady beat of his heart as he moves his fingers in a faint path across my lower back.
When I said just one night, I only imagined sex. But I should have known better. Everything between us is enhanced now, like the connection we have is shining brighter in the light of day. A connection I can’t deny anymore. I’ve always been drawn to him, which is precisely why I wouldn’t date him. A rejection from Rhett could, no, would destroy me. I couldn’t afford to give in to the attraction, but I did it anyway, and I have no idea where to go from here.
Eventually, I’m the one to break the silence. “Was yesterday as tiring for you as it was for me?”
His response is unhurried, thoughtful. “I doubt it. I tend to enjoy groups of people, and I don’t get the sense that’s your thing.”
That’s not something I would have expected him to notice, but it warms my heart that he did. “Not really.” I hear the words and realize how it must sound. “Allie, Bea, and Sadie are the exception to that rule most of the time, and honestly, I don’t even mind Luke. I think it was just everything all at once.”