The Mistake (Bad Bridesmaids #1) - Noelle Adams Page 0,37

explained quickly. “I don’t mean that. Just to sleep. You can sleep with me.”

Her voice barely a whisper, she asked, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Then he couldn’t stop himself from admitting, “I don’t really want to be alone either.”

That was apparently the right thing to say. Amanda relaxed. Gave him a shy smile. And walked all the way into the room. She glanced around, but there was nothing to see except his open suitcase on the low dresser and otherwise undisturbed soulless hotel furnishings.

“What side of the bed do you like to sleep on?” she asked.

“Usually the left, but it doesn’t really matter.”

“The left is perfect. I prefer the right.” She climbed under the covers on the right side.

“I’m going to brush my teeth. Then we can turn off the lights. You can turn the TV on if you like.”

When he returned from brushing his teeth and going to the bathroom, she hadn’t turned on the television, so he switched off the two lamps and climbed into bed beside her.

He was exhausted. But wired. Which was probably the way she felt. He wasn’t in a particularly sexy mood, although he was sure he could summon the interest and will had she suggested it.

She didn’t.

They’d agreed a long time ago that they’d just have the one time together, and she’d never even hinted about changing her mind regarding that subject. He was supposed to be her friend now. That was what he’d told her, and that was what he’d resolved in his mind before he’d gone over to her house last weekend to apologize.

Friends was fine. Better than nothing. And far safer than anything else.

But he didn’t feel like friends with her.

It felt like she was everything.

“Are you okay?” he asked into the darkness.

“I... I don’t really know.”

“What can I do?”

“I don’t...”

The fact that she didn’t finish that statement made him realize that she did have something in mind. Something he could do for her. “Tell me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’ll hate it.”

“Maybe I won’t.” His heart was beating like a jackhammer, the pounding almost painful in his chest.

She took a ragged breath. “It’s what silly female characters in movies say—the ones I’ve always scoffed at. I really don’t know who I’ve turned into lately.”

The dry comment mirrored his own reflections to such an extent that it felt like déjà vu. But the allusion was enough to clue him in to what she was talking about. “Do you want me to hold you?” he asked with way too much gravel in his voice. “Because I will. I will.”

She turned onto her side to face him. It was dark, but his eyes were adjusting, so he could see her nod. “Please.”

He made a weird rough sound. He had no idea what it meant. Then he pulled her toward him, settled her against him, and wrapped both arms around her.

She shifted for a minute until she got comfortable. Then she exhaled deeply, her body softening against his.

She was warm. Smelled like soap. Her hair tickled his bare shoulder and chest. Her breasts were pressed against his skin, and he was acutely aware of them.

Of all of her.

But she needed this—and only this—so he was going to give it to her.

As he held her, he realized one other thing.

It was why he’d felt so jittery himself and didn’t anymore. This was the thing that he’d been wanting.

He needed this too.

seven

WHEN AMANDA OPENED her eyes, it was dark in the room. Dark and warm and safe and pleasurable in a way she didn’t immediately recognize.

She didn’t know where she was. Or when she was. But she was cozy right now, and she liked it.

The first thing that clarified in her mind was that she was in a hotel room. Then she recalled it was the hotel in Hilton Head.

Then she remembered the car accident yesterday.

And Robert. His urgent voice when he’d been afraid she’d been hurt. His dryly amused tone when he teased her. His dark eyes—in turn warm, wry, questioning, hungry.

His strong arms and lean, solid body when he held her last night as she went to sleep.

Robert.

She sat up straight in bed. His bed. She’d gone to sleep with him, and his warmth and smell were the reasons the bed felt so nice this morning. But he wasn’t lying beside her right now, sleeping or otherwise, and he wasn’t anywhere in sight.

A quick check of the clock informed her that it was only four thirty in the morning. He shouldn’t be up and dressed yet. They didn’t