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“I want to know if you’re mad at me.”

I shift on my feet, wondering if I’ll feel safer if I wrap a towel around myself. “Why does it matter if I am or not?”

His long lashes blink a few times. He’s debating his answer. “Because…it does. I…” He swallows. “I bought you the steak to be nice, and I thought you’d think us tricking you about the lobster was funny. I’m sorry if I missed the mark…I never would have done it if I thought you were going to be upset.”

You didn’t miss the mark. It was a perfect bull’s eye.

I fold my arms tightly in front of me. “Only a week ago you did things to make me upset on purpose.”

“Yeah…but not anymore. I just want to make sure you know that.” He pauses, and his smile turns almost tortured…sad. Some of his bad boy arrogance from earlier is wearing thin, and now he just looks vulnerable. Not a side Drew shows often—if ever. He shakes his head with an embarrassed chuckle like he can’t stand the way he feels right now, and I can perfectly relate. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come in here.”

He takes my phone out of his pocket and hands it back.

“I just…” He’s fumbling with his hands. DREW MARSHALL is fumbling. Would it be rude to use my phone to record him right now? Not to be mean, just to document how freaking cute he looks when he’s unsure of himself.

He picks up a hand towel from the counter, making two perfect lengthwise folds and one in the middle before rehanging it on the rack. He taps a finger on the counter then smooths his hand over the spot, his eyes staring intently at everything he does. Drew turns on the faucet and turns it back off. There’s a boyishness about him that’s making my heart skip. Is he getting up the nerve to ask me to prom? YES, DREW, I’LL GO WITH YOU!

Finally, when my heart can’t melt any more, I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist. I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s an awkward hug. My belly makes it so that my butt has to kind of stick out like a duck’s feathers in the back, and I really smashed my face against his chest—but it doesn’t matter because this isn’t supposed to be an intimate moment. This is me declaring friendship.

Drew is stiff for only a moment before his big hand rises and gently smooths down the back of my hair. He wraps his other arm around me and holds me tight, like he’s never letting go. “We’re okay?” he murmurs into my hair.

“Yeah…” I honestly don’t know what Drew and I are, but I do know this. “We’re great.”

We hug another minute, and I don’t tell him how thankful I am for the steak, or how funny I think the little lobster prank was, because I’m scared enough to have his arms around me—I don’t need to throw emotions into the mix too.

After dinner, I help Henry clear the table and load up the dishwasher. He told me I didn’t need to help him, but I insisted, because I’m a big coward and didn’t want to face Drew again. Every time I looked over at him during the meal, our eyes locked. I felt like we were having a private conversation that I didn’t mean to be having, like he could read my thoughts whether I wanted them read or not.

So I found a way to get myself a little space while he disappeared after dinner. But now, the dishes have been cleared, cleaned, dried, and put away. I’ve also re-organized Henry and Richard’s silverware drawer, wiped out the microwave, and swept the floor. I’m just about to clear the cobwebs from the tops of the cabinets when Henry stops me.

“Jessie! I didn’t bring you out here to be Cinderella,” he says with a chuckle as he attempts to peel the broom from my hands. I grip the stick tighter, and his sweet smile falters a little before he gives one final yank and tugs it free. “The weather’s nice right now. Why don’t you go find Drew and take a romantic nighttime stroll by the lake?”

Under no circumstances can that happen. I will accidentally propose to Drew.

“You know, actually, I’m feeling pretty tired all of a sudden. I think I’ll turn in early!” We both look at the clock and see that it’s only eight PM. Apparently I’m going to be turning in super early. I rub my belly bump like that’s a suitable answer for why I’m acting so odd. “If you see Drew, will you tell him I went to bed?”

This is a good decision—going to bed early. Even though I know there’s not a chance I’ll fall asleep before 2 AM, I can at least pretend I’m fast asleep when Drew comes in so I don’t have to face him. Inside the room we are (unfortunately) sharing, I busy myself with making a little pallet on the floor. I decide to write a sign to prop up beside it with an arrow that reads, This is where you sleep, just to make sure he doesn’t miss it.

I stand back, hands on my hips, and nod affirmatively at the luxury pallet. Good. This is going to work. And then I turn around, open the door to the bathroom, step inside, and scream.

“OH MY GOSH! I’m so sorry! I thought you were outside somewhere!” I say to a nearly naked Drew standing in front of the sink. He’s wearing nothing besides tight black boxer briefs with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His hair is damp like he just got out of the shower. The steam swirling around him confirms it.

I need to look away. MUST LOOK AWAY. But I can’t.

My eyes have gone completely rogue and are scanning…as slowly as possible…down Drew’s tan muscular body like I’m needy and he’s got everything I’m lacking. Strong thighs, abs on abs on abs, arm muscles and shoulder muscles and WAIT ONE FREAKING SECOND, IS THAT A TATTOO?!

“Jessie?” Drew says, making me suck in a breath and shoot my eyes up to his. He’s grinning mid-teeth-brushing, mostly naked and completely comfortable in his own skin. Speaking of his skin, I like it. I want to run my fingers across the top of those shoulder boulders he’s got. I want to trace the indentions around each of his abs. Who knew this masterpiece is what he’s been creating every morning at the gym? I mean, ever since I saw that tiny sliver of his golden abdomen, I knew his body would be magnificent. But this…this is more than I could have hoped for.

“Do you mind?” he says, amusement thick in his tone.

Oh right! Drew probably doesn’t want me to stand here all night ogling him. Well, too bad. Shouldn’t have had a body like that, Drew, if you don’t want women staring at it!

I’m vaguely aware of shouting something like This is your own fault! while slamming the door behind me. Now Henry and Richard probably assume we’re fighting. Drew chuckles on the other side of the bathroom door, and I want to chuck something at his head. But since that would require opening that bathroom door and seeing his glorious nakedness again, I refrain. I’m not sure my heart can handle any more excitement tonight. It might just give out completely.

While Drew is in the bathroom, I hurry to shimmy into my pink and white striped maternity PJ set and scurry under the covers so quickly I probably broke a world record. Just as I’m pulling my sheets up to my chin, the bathroom door opens. My heart hammers painfully against my chest as Drew walks out in slow motion, steam billowing through the doorway like he’s so hot his body just naturally produces it.

He’s put on a pair of black sleep pants, but that’s all, and my eyes still see every single inch of his smooth muscular chest and tapered waste and—

“Tattoo…” I say, forgetting how to make complete sentences.


Tags: Sarah Adams It Happened in Nashville Romance