I hold her a moment longer, rub my hands on her arm, think about how good we fit together. She lifts her chin, and her lips part slightly and it’s all I can do not to claim her mouth, lose myself in her sweet taste. My entire body stiffens. Dammit, I need to stop thinking about her in my bed.
“There’s a fully stocked bar. Why don’t you pour us a drink, something to warm us up.” Hopefully that will numb the things I’m feeling and help me get my head on right.
She reluctantly pulls away, and I step up to the fire. “It’s propane.” I flick a switch, and it lights up. “That was easy.”
Katee grabs a bottle of brandy and pours two glasses. “Here.” I take one from her, and we clink glasses. “What are we toasting too?” she asks.
“To best friends,” I say. “Who are always there for each other.” I leave out the part about one of them wanting to ravish the other. No need to send her to the hills screaming.
She nods in agreement, and with a flick of her wrist, drains the amber liquid with one easy swallow.
“Ohmigod,” she yelps. “I…my throat.”
I finish my drink, set our glasses on the mantel and reach for her. “Come here.” I move her in front of the flames and she holds her hands out to warm them. We stay like that for a few minutes until her lips are no longer blue. “Better?” I ask.
She nods and I back up to shrug out of my jacket. She spins around, her gaze cataloguing the chalet. “My God, this is a lot nicer than I ever expected.”
I follow her gaze, to take in the fully stocked kitchen, the bathroom, and patio, and the big bed in front of the fire. “I couldn’t get the honeymoon suite,” I say. “They were booked up.”
“I don’t need the honeymoon suite. All I need is this fire, and you, for a perfect getaway.”
If only she needed me the way I needed her.
“Oh, and food, and maybe a bottle of wine or some beer,” she adds. “Not high maintenance at all,” she adds with a laugh. “That’s why you love me.”
“You think that’s why I love you?” I say as I take in her rosy cheeks.
“Of course.”
She’s right, her easy-going attitude is one of the many things I love about her. She doesn’t need designer clothes, makeup or fancy shoes and purses to make her happy. After her father left, she and her mother survived on very little, but she never once complained about her lot in life. Whenever I tried to buy her things, she got mad at me, insisted on paying her own way, or going without. She had no daddy to give her credit cards, and wouldn’t in a million years think about going after a guy for his money. Why the hell is she still single anyway? Oh right, she has a deep distrust of guys.
I look at the big king-sized bed. “It only has one bed, though,” I say.
She shrugs. “We’ve shared a bed before.”
“True, but you can’t expect me to sleep in that bed with my wife, and not have sex with her,” I tease. Or maybe I’m not teasing. Jesus, I’m so fucked. “This is our honeymoon.”
She elbows me in the gut and air leaves my lungs. “I am not your wife. I’m only pretending to be.”
She leans to the side, one curvy hip jutting out as she gathers her long hair, and pulls an elastic off her wrist. It’s a familiar move, one I’ve seen her do numerous times, but it’s still as sexy as fuck. She throws herself onto the bed, grabs the remote and stretches out. “Think we can get any English stations?” she asks as she flicks on the TV.
“Probably, this place caters to tourists.”
She flicks through the stations, and I head to the kitchen. The fridge is full of snack foods that I’d ordered in ahead of times. Most of our meals will be in the local restaurants. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
I search around, and pull out cream cheese, smoked salmon, and grab some crackers from the cupboard. Arianna hates most of the things Katee and I like, and would never be caught dead eating carbs this late at night. Then again, for years now Katee has been watching what she eats. Not that she needs to. She’s perfect no matter her size. Dropping the food onto the counter, I lift my gaze, find her peeling her coat from her body.
“Warming up?”
“Yes.” She taps the bed, stretches out and widens her legs. “But you in this bed sharing your body heat, and food too, of course, will help me warm up even more.”
Jesus, when she says stuff like that, it fills my head with inappropriate thoughts. I briefly pinch my eyes shut and work to get my shit together. Seriously though, does she not have any idea what sharing a bed with her does to me? How hard it is for me not to strip her bare and show her how could we could be together when she puts her hands on my body? How can she be so unaware of the effect she has on me?
Oh, because she doesn’t think of you as a real guy, dude.
I guess that’s why no matter how much I tease her, no matter how many inappropriate things I say it just rolls off her shoulders. Fuck, I want to tell her how I feel, but she’s made it blatantly clear that she doesn’t think of me as anything other than her friend. I can’t risk telling her and making things awkward. It would only ruin what we have. But being with her like this…well, everything about it feels so damn right.