Page 93 of Trade It All

The shower kicks on a minute later and I laugh quietly to myself, dropping my bag onto the chair while imagining her doing exactly what she always does after travel—stripping as she walks because she hates the sticky feel of airports and buses.

I should probably be a better man than I am. I’m not. I glance at the connecting door. Think about knocking. Think about just walking in and telling her surprise.

Then silence. A very specific kind of silence.

The kind that tells me she noticed the door. I stop. Wait. One beat. Two.

I can practically see the curiosity working through her head from the other side. My girl is nosy as hell. She always has to know. Please let curiosity win.

I rest my hand on my side of the knob, grinning like an idiot. Come on, Baby.

There’s a soft rustle. Then—the faint metallic click of her handleturning.

My grin goes full blown. Knew it. The door eases open. And there she is.

Wrapped in a white hotel robe tied too loosely around that gorgeous body, bare legs peeking out beneath it, hair dry and tousled from changing, cheeks flushed from hurrying around the room.

She looks at me like I just appeared by magic. My eyes drag over her slowly. Taking in every inch. Knowing exactly what is under that robe because I heard the shower running in the background and caught her before she made it there.

Jesus. I brace my hand on the frame because I suddenly need something solid to keep me upright. “Hi, Baby.”

Her lips part. “You’re on the floor above me?” she asks.

A laugh rumbles out of me. I push my side of the door open wider and step toward her. “No,” I tell her, eyes dropping once more to the knot of that robe before lifting back to her face. “I said I had to head there.”

The look she gives me is half accusation, half disbelief. “You let me assume.”

“Mm,” I hum, stepping farther into her room. “You did that all on your own, Baby.”

Her mouth falls open. “Dean!”

God, I love when she says my name like that. Like I’m the most aggravating man she’s ever met and somehow still the one she wants closest.

I take another slow step toward her, my eyes never leaving hers even though every other part of me is very aware of the white robe tied around her body and the fact that there is absolutely nothing under it.

“I knew if I told you we were adjoining you would overthink it,” I say.

She narrows her eyes. “I do not overthink.”

I lift one brow.

She huffs. “Okay, rude.”

A laugh slips out of me, low and warm, and I finally reach for her. My fingers hook loosely in the belt of her robe and tug her closer until her bare toes brush mine.

“I didn’t want to be away from you,” I tell her honestly.

Every teasing line on her face softens. Just like that. Because she knows me well enough now to hear the deeper meaning under the words. Not after yesterday. Not after Tyler. Not after seeing her backed into that office corner while my heart nearly stopped in my chest.

My hand slides from the robe tie to her waist, flattening there. “I needed to know I could get to you.”

Her eyes search mine. “Dean…”

I shake my head once, brushing my thumb lightly over the edge of the robe. “Humor me, Baby. I’m still one bad thought away from kicking in every door on this floor just to make sure no one else is near you.”

That gets the smallest smile. “There are innocent tourists on this floor.”

“Collateral damage.”