Her mouth had instantly dried as she took him in, and from that moment on, trying not to stare was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. He somehow looked even larger without his shirt. His pecs were bigger than any she’d seen before, at least in real life, and dusted with light brown hair. The hills and valleys of his abs were well defined, and he had a happy trail that started under his belly button and disappeared beneath his pants, bracketed by a well-defined V that made her wonder if she was drooling.
And she swore his biceps were as big as her thighs.
The moment she saw him walk out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, she itched to draw him.
She was treated to the mouthwatering view as they ate and then for about an hour afterward as they chatted and watched TV, before he said he was exhausted and laid down. She’d tried so hard to resist the urge to grab her pencils and sketchbook, and she managed it for about an hour before she finally gave in.
Pausing, she gazed at him for a moment, swallowing hard as desire heated her blood and pooled in her belly. He was sprawled out over the bed, so big that he damned near took up the whole surface. One of his arms was behind his head, and the covers had fallen to his waist, giving the illusion that he wasn’t wearing anything at all—and he looked sexier than a man had a right to.
She could almost hear the sound of her ovaries exploding as she gazed at him.
Lord, she needed to get herself under control. She was already getting attached to him, and that wasn’t good. Their circumstances weren’t the least bit normal, but it was getting harder and harder to remember that. She was in so much trouble.
If it was only his looks that she was attracted to, she might stand a chance of keeping herself separate from him. She’d seen good looking men before, after all—although none as gorgeous as Colton. Hell, none of them even came close.
But she was just as attracted to who he was on the inside as she was to his outside. He was kind, caring, protective, and funny. As much as she knew he needed to find his cousin, as worried as he was, he still put her safety first, even when she offered to lure the Bad Guys out.
How could she not think he was even more attractive after getting to know him?
And how the hell was a man like him even still single? Women on the whole were a bunch of idiots, and that’d never been clearer to her than it was after meeting him and finding the absence of a wedding ring on his finger.
Biting her lip, she forced herself to look away and went back to her drawing. He might not be single—just because he didn’t wear a wedding ring didn’t mean he had no significant other in his life.
Disappointment filled her at the thought that he might have someone at home, so potent it surprised her. Why did she care whether he was single or not? They were only in each other’s lives temporarily. As soon as he had Justin back and she was no longer in danger, they’d return to being strangers.
Sadness replaced the disappointment, but she tried to banish it. She might feel like she’d known him forever, but in all reality, she didn’t really know him well enough to miss him.
But for whatever reason, she knew she would, just as well as she knew her own name.
Hey, she tried to console herself, at least you’re getting an amazing adventure out of this. It’s been the most exciting thing to happen in your boring existence. So, focus on the experience you’re having and not the fact that it’ll eventually end.
Her little pep talk did nothing to make her feel better, and she had to snort at herself. She was basically on the run because her life was in danger, and she was calling it an adventure, of all things. And shouldn’t she want it to end? If it was over, that meant she wouldn’t have anyone wanting to kill her because she could identify them.
Maybe her little fantasy that she was in the middle of a romantic movie was becoming too real in her mind. It was better than the terror she’d felt at first, and she felt like she could breathe again after she decided to pretend. But if she was starting to truly believe it, she needed to nip her imagination in the bud and force herself to acknowledge the reality.
Exhaling heavily, she began drawing again, wishing she’d brought her charcoals with her. Or even her paint. She wasn’t as good at painting as she was sketching, but she’d like to have this in color. She’d been at it for nearly an hour, taking her time so she could get all the details just right, but she was nearly done. She wanted to remember this moment when she was back in her regular life.
Focusing on the image coming to life in front of her, she lost track of time as she put the finishing details on. She was just closing the book when a knock came on the door. Blinking with surprise, she stilled as she looked over at it, wondering who in the world it could possibly be.
A glance over at Colton showed he was still sleeping, so she shoved her sketchbook into her backpack and stood, padding silently over to the door, taking care not to make any noise.
Easing in close, she looked through the peephole, freezing when she saw two large men outside. Surely Creepy Dudes wouldn’t politely knock on the door if they’d found her—right?
They were both wearing ballcaps and sunglasses—the latter of which made her uneasy as hell about their intentions, since it was dark outside—so she couldn’t tell if they were the same men. Her sight line was limited, but she didn’t see a third man who could be Justin, and she tried to reassure herself that that was good news, and these men had nothing to do with that situation.
But just because he wasn’t right there at the door with them didn’t mean he wasn’t somewhere else, still being held hostage, maybe tied up—or even worse—while the Bad Guys came to take care of their loose end—meaning her.
Biting her lip with indecision, she stared for a few moments more. They didn’t walk away, but she decided if she didn’t answer the door, she and Colton were fine. She was just starting to move back when one of them glanced down the hall, and her blood ran cold as she saw the mole on his cheek.
The Bad Guys were definitely there—at least, one of them was. She didn’t see a scar on the other one’s chin, so this man was different.
And that meant there were more than just two of them involved. That car she saw at the gas station probably had been them. They’d figured out she was leaving with Colton and followed them, but they hadn’t realized it, because the bastards weren’t in the Camry.
Shit on a stick. This wasn’t good.
Easing backward, she tiptoed over to the bed, fear and uneasiness coiling together in a knot in her belly and making her queasy. Leaning over Colton, she took a deep breath, pausing as his scent filled her nose.
Damn, he smelled delicious.