The slamming of the back door sent Kendra a couple inches off the floor. She made a frustrated sound under her breath. God, just thinking about Robert made her nervous. But he wouldn’t find them at the ranch, not if she kept her mouth—and Colton’s—shut until her birthday.
Just over three weeks to go. A short time that would take forever, with her and Noah’s lives hanging in the balance every second.
Colton set two brown paper bags on the counter. The thought of living with him made her nervous, too.
He opened the fridge, one hand on the door and one braced above him as he bent to look inside. Involuntarily, her gazed dropped. His jeans were snug enough to show muscle, but not too tight. She had a flashback to the kiss in the barn. His lips had been warm and firm, awakening a desire inside that scared her. Even now, she could feel it stirring, curling in her belly and climbing up to make her heart flutter and her mouth water.
“Hey.”
He snapped his fingers for her attention, and she jerked her gaze up.
“You want top or bottom?”
She stared at him in shock, unable to believe his blatant proposition.
He pointed to the open fridge as he pulled a container of cottage cheese from one of the bags. “Top or bottom shelf?”
She straightened from where she’d leaned her hip against the counter, hoping the heat she felt didn’t show too much in her face. “I-I couldn’t care less.”
A soft chuckle mocked her hasty retreat. Damn him.
Fifteen minutes later, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, fuming. If Colton didn’t turn the TV off soon, so help him, she’d get the knife again!
****
Colton glanced down the hall when he heard Kendra, then quickly averted his gaze back to the TV. Those pajamas of hers were dangerous to his peace of mind. Spaghetti strapped snug top and pants that rode low on her slim hips before skimming down to her ankles. Damn. Maybe moving in wasn’t such a good idea after all.
She proceeded to stand directly in the middle of the living room, between him and the screen, hands on her hips. “This isn’t going to work.”
He reclined on the couch, propped his feet on the coffee table and did his best not to look at her pierced navel as he made his silent statement that she had no choice in the matter.
“Fine,” she snapped. “Then there’s going to be some rules. No TV after nine.”
“Nine?” He snorted. “What are you, sixty?”
“I don’t sleep well so I go to bed early.”
“I don’t sleep so good myself so I go to bed late.”
“Don’t you read?”
He shrugged off her insult, which seemed to annoy her further. “I prefer TV. Close your door.”
“I won’t hear Noah if he wakes up.”
He sat up with sudden interest. “You’d hear him perfectly in the room next to his.”
“With my door open, I can hear just fine.” She turned around to shut off the TV, then faced him again. Behind her, the TV flicked back on, and he held up the remote with a smug grin.
“Colton, I’m serious. I can’t sleep with the noise,” she half fumed, half pleaded.
After a measuring look, he raised the remote and clicked it off. “Ten.”
“Nine.”
“Thirty.”
She conceded with a nod. “I can deal with that.”