Decidedly with Wishes - Stina Lindenblatt Page 0,31
amazing and all-male. Plus, it wasn’t like his body responded to me the same way mine did when I was near him. I was just another woman who he’d be sharing a bed with.
The difference between those other women and me?
He and I wouldn’t be having sex.
And I wouldn’t be posting photos on social media of us half-naked.
I smiled. “That’s fine.”
“Good. Now, remember, even though you two are of consenting age, the ‘No sex in your bedroom’ rule still applies.”
“Sure, Mom,” Eli said at the same time I replied, “Of course.”
A relieved smile crossed her face. “Okay, I’ll let you two freshen up.”
Remember how I’d thought that Eli either had two beds in his room or a bunk bed?
“Did your bed shrink?” I stared at what had to be the narrowest bed on the planet. It was also the only bed in his room.
At the possibility of Eli and I sharing the same bed, excitement vibrated through my traitorous body.
He was also staring at it as though he didn’t remember it ever being this small. It didn’t help that he was over six foot, broad-shouldered, and muscular. Ideal for being a goal-scoring NHL player.
Not so ideal when the two of us were expected to share the same narrow bed.
“I don’t suppose it expands into a king-sized bed?” I asked, still staring at it. “You wave your wand over it, say a few magical words, and instant king-sized bed?”
Eli scrubbed the back of his neck, his gaze still locked on the mattress.
Guess that answered my question.
“Not a problem,” I said. “I can sleep on the floor. It will be like camping.” Minus any bugs that wandered into the tent. “I don’t suppose you have a sleeping bag I can use?” I scanned the room, which had posters of hockey players on the walls and trophies on the bookshelf.
Eli grunted. “You’re not sleeping on the floor. You’re the guest.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you saying that because I’m a woman and you’re being a caveman?”
“No, I’m saying it because you’re a guest who’s here to save my ass—”
“From someone who also happens to think it’s a fine ass and wants a piece of it?” I finished for him.
“You think my ass is fine?”
I rolled my eyes again. Thanks to teenage-Eli’s room and the no-girls-in-your-room rule, I’d regressed into teenage-me. “Of course I think your ass is fine. I doubt there’s a woman alive—other than your mother and female relatives—who wouldn’t think that.”
The corner of his mouth curved to one side, and a wave of heat washed through my body. Damn, he had a sexy smirk.
“Well, I guess I’ll have my shower first.” Then I could put some much-needed distance between us while I pulled myself together.
After which I needed to come up with a way to keep my body from responding to him while we were here.
Yep, I was totally doomed.
“It looks just as I imagined it would.”
All right, that was a lie.
When I had added “hayride” to my bucket list, I envisioned a horse-drawn carriage. Not once in my imagination had I switched horse with a tractor. But it still worked.
The red tractor was small and cute. Nothing like what you’d expect to find plowing a field or whatever they did with tractors. The wagon’s low wooden sides had once been painted red, but large bits of color had since chipped away.
The verdict?
Combined with several bales of straw for us to sit on, the wagon and tractor were both rustic and perfect.
It was a dream come true.
“Why don’t you get in first, and I’ll take your photo for your grandmother?” Eli suggested. “You can take some more photos for further proof once we get going.”
He helped me into the wagon, and I sat on a bale of straw. I’d stripped out of the dress I’d worn on the trip and changed into jeans, my adorable designer cowgirl boots, and an orange tank top.
Because the sun was lower on the horizon now and we were in Montana’s mountainous region, I’d thrown on a flannel shirt I’d picked up for the trip.
All I needed was a cowgirl hat, and I’d be ready for a hoedown—or whatever it was they did for entertainment in this part of the world.
Eli looked incredibly yummy in his faded jeans, boots, the light-blue T-shirt that hugged his muscles, and a cowboy hat.
Right now, he looked more like a cowboy than he did a hockey player.
Wow, who would’ve known I could be turned-on by a cowboy?