my dream-catcher work?” Toby asked, a few leftover sobs hiccupping his words.
Grant rubbed his chin, his shadowed face thoughtful. “I see the problem. It’s too far away from you.”
“It is?” Toby asked in wonder, not a shred of doubt visible to Jami.
Grant reached up and popped a thumbtack out of the wall to remove the purple dream-catcher. He lowered the Native American creation and positioned it so the bottom edge of the lower beads and feathers dangled mere inches above the headboard on Toby’s side. “Much better.”
“Thank you,” Jami breathed, feasting on the sight of Grant’s rippling muscles as he moved. To her, he appeared the perfect male specimen, and her throat constricted at the sight. She wouldn’t have been female if she hadn’t responded. Grant wore only a pair of paisley boxers that revealed his beautiful body. From the way the waistband twisted and rode low on his hips, she guessed the boxers were hastily donned, daring her imagination to envision him in his full male glory.
“Now I won’t have anymore nightmares?” Toby asked, scooting back over to settle into his own side of the bed.
“I can almost guarantee it.” Grant tucked the covers up around the child’s neck. “No more bad dreams, and no more monsters.”
“I wish we could sleep in your big bed with you, Grant,” Toby said with drowsy innocence. “Then we’d be really safe.”
Sharing a bed with Grant Carrington would make her feel anything but safe, Jami reflected, her insides pitching at the thought. “Toby, your dream-catcher will work better now that Grant’s moved it.”
“It’ll work like a charm,” Grant agreed, sounding close to laughter.
“Good.” Toby snuggled deeper into the bedding. “Then I can go back to sleep and that grizzly will be all gone.”
“Yes, the grizzly will be all gone,” Jami echoed softly, her glance meeting Grant’s dark, electric gaze.
Suddenly, Toby reached up to throw his arms around Grant’s corded neck. “Thanks, Grant. You’re a cool friend.”
“So are you,” Grant replied. He brushed a kiss on Toby’s forehead. “Goodnight, slugger.”
“G’night,” the child muttered thickly, already half asleep.
Grant eased away from the bed, his bare feet treading silently on the thick carpet. “Goodnight, Jami.”
“Thanks for coming to our rescue,” she said as he moved toward the door.
“Sorry I startled you.”
“Sorry I screamed.”
“I’m just glad you and Toby are safe,” Grant replied, his voice low and throbbing with messages.
With belated modesty, Jami pulled the sheet up over her chest, suddenly realizing that the light illuminated her as it now backlit Grant. Her breasts peaked against the thin cotton of her nightshirt, revealing her womanly awareness. Darn the man! Did he have to read her every emotion?
“Goodnight, Red.” His sexy, velvet growl hung in the air as he backed through the doorway and clicked the door closed.
“Goodnight,” she whispered into the darkness, still clutching the sheet to her throat, feeling the pulse there fluttering as wildly as her heart.
The next morning, Jami spread her coral cotton-knit dress out on the bed and eyed it critically. “I hope this will be fancy enough for tonight.”
“What’s tonight?” Toby asked, toying with his bow and arrow.
“You remember Mike, the photographer?” She watched her son nod. “Sierra and Ty hired him to take some pictures of me and Grant at dinner. It’s dress-up.”
“Do I have to get dressed up, too?”
Jami smiled lovingly at her son. “No. Homer, Nell, and Becca have invited you to eat with them, or you can have supper with the lodge guests.”
“Will that lady with the pointy nails be there?” Toby asked, scrunching up his mouth in disgust.
“Probably. If you eat with the lodge guests.”
“I don’t like that lady.”
Jami threw him a conspiratorial smile and hugged him close. “Want to know a secret?”
“What?”
“I don’t, either. But we both must be very polite to her. Okay?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He squirmed out of his mother’s arms. “I want to eat supper with Homer. Maybe he’ll tell me his fish tales.”
Jami laughed at her incorrigible child. “I bet Homer will tell you plenty of fish tales.”
“Maybe I could go with you and Grant, instead. I’d be really quiet.”
“Grant and I are supposed to dine alone together.”
“Oh,” Toby replied, his freckled face transparent with conflicting emotions. She could tell her son was pleased about Homer, yet unhappy that Grant would be dining alone with Jami.
“It’s not until tonight and just for a few hours. Remember Sierra and Ty gave me this trip to help advertise their business? I must do this to repay them. Okay?”
“I know,” Toby grumbled, dropping his plastic