Dating the Boss (Blue Harbor #2) - Jaclyn Osborn Page 0,30
filled out those pants to perfection.
“I’m sorry,” I said, hating the silence. “I shouldn’t have asked you that.”
He stilled, his shoulders squaring, before he went back to putting the blanket on the cot and sliding onto it. Like the night before, the cot made an ungodly creaking sound under his weight.
“We never got to celebrate your big win,” I said, propping my head up on my arm. “There’s still time to break out the wine and turn this night around.”
“You’ve had enough to drink.” He sighed and faced the window. “Turn off the light, please. I’m tired.”
I reached over and shut off the lamp, sending the room into darkness. Pale moonlight streamed in through the window and illuminated the snow in the trees. Even though I hated winter, I appreciated the beauty of it. My body didn’t appreciate it, though. I was so freaking cold. My feet were like blocks of ice, and I shuffled them under the sheets to create friction and give me some relief.
“Stop fidgeting,” Daniel mumbled.
“I can’t. My feet are so cold. I think my toes are gonna fall off.”
“Put some socks on.”
“But it’s dark,” I said. “And that would require me to leave these covers to search for them.”
“I guess you’ll have to freeze, then.”
I curled my body inward and drew my legs up, pulling the thick comforter up under my nose. And speaking of my nose, it was cold too. Like a damn little icicle. “Why is it so cold? Is the heater broken?”
“Yes.” Daniel shifted on the cot. “That’s what Ian told us last night. It’s why this room was available. It has trouble heating up sometimes.”
“How are you not cold?” I asked, staring at his back and wide shoulders. “Your blanket is way thinner than mine, and I’m dying over here.” He was also near the window, which probably had a draft.
“I’m fine.”
That’s when I saw him shake a little and tug his blanket up higher.
“No you’re not.” I sat up in bed and flipped on the lamp.
He turned his head, eyes squinting against the light. “What are you doing?”
I hopped out of bed, shuddering as the cold air hit my skin, and went over to the fireplace, squatting in front of it. “This works, right?”
“I believe so.” Daniel got off the cot and came over to help. A stack of firewood sat against the wall, and he grabbed a few logs and positioned them in the pit. He checked the vent to make sure it wasn’t closed before lighting the fire. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this.”
I grinned. “It’s why I’m your assistant.” As the wood caught the flame and the fire spread, I held out my hands. “Man, this feels nice. Can we sleep with it going?”
“It should be fine.” Daniel got to his feet and went back over to the cot. “You know, maybe you wouldn’t be so cold if you put on some clothes.”
“I have clothes on,” I said, motioning to my sweater.
“Add pants to it. You’re just in your boxers.” He laid his head down on the pillow and looked at me, his blue eyes sleepy. “And find your socks.”
“Look who’s fussing over who now,” I said, amused.
“I’m not fussing over you. It’s common sense.”
I went over to the drawer where I’d placed my clothes and pulled out a pair of socks and sleep pants. As I crawled back into bed—more snug now because of my warm toes—I found I wasn’t as tired anymore. “How does your girlfriend feel about you being stuck here?”
“My girlfriend?” Daniel asked.
“Yeah. The girl from the photo on your desk.” The center of my chest tightened a bit as I recalled his smile as he hugged the pretty black-haired chick. “You look so happy with her.”
He surprised me by laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“That’s my sister,” he said before chuckling again. “You really thought she was my girlfriend this whole time?”
“Well… yeah?” I smiled as hope blossomed in my belly. “So you’re not dating anyone?”
“No.” A pause, and then, “Wait. You thought I had a girlfriend, and yet, you still thought I had sex with Vivian Parks?”
My face heated. “I know. It was stupid.”
Daniel was quiet, and when I chanced a look in his direction, I found him staring at the crackling fire. Wide-awake just like me.
“What’s your sister’s name?” I asked, not ready to stop talking to him.
“Regina.” Maybe Daniel wasn’t ready to stop talking to me either. “She’s three years younger than me.”
“You’re a scary, overprotective big brother, aren’t you?”