Page 12 of All Snowed Gin

“I am not sleeping on the couch.”

Peering around him, I take a moment to appraise the piece of furniture I just turned down. It is older, the faded floral print way past its prime. The cushions are uneven, probably from years’ worth of use, and the armrests are starting to fray. A small coil peeks out from the top corner, making me wonder what else it has in store. And if my tetanus shot is up to date. It is the kind of item that is either perfectly broken in or insanely uncomfortable—with no room in between those two. My guess is the latter. The way Pierce shifted awkwardly on it as we ate only confirmed that suspicion.

“I guess you could sleep in the armchair, if you don’t mind sleeping upright.”

Don’t mind sleeping upright? First tetanus and now this. Not to sound too spoiled, but this man has lost his damn mind.

“I’ll take the bed.”

“Not much of the sharing kind, darlin’.”

Pierce’s southern drawl goes from subtle to syrupy thick on the word darlin’, kicking my pulse up about three notches. My lady bits also get in on it, standing at attention, waiting for more. They’ve gotten me into enough trouble tonight though, putting thoughts of kissing in my head. So here, now, they need to stand down.

“You could take the couch.”

“Why would I do that? It’s my bed.”

“It’d be the gentlemanly thing to do,” I point out, feeling impressed with myself for that comeback.

“Not much of a gentleman either,” he grumbles, voice lowering, rumbling through me.

Ohhhhhh, fuuuuuck…

Well, it’s a good thing I’m no longer wearing panties after that response, because they’d be ruined. Although, these pajama shorts might be sharing that fate.

Stop it, Rose. Focus on the matter at hand—i.e. not sleeping on that couch…

“Well, the couch isn’t happening. So I guess you’ll have to learn to share.”

Pierce glowers at me, growling and dropping the linens on the couch. I smile back at him as brightly as I can, giving him the little sister look that always made Cary give in when we were kids. Only difference, Cary’s my brother, and I think sharing DNA means this look had more potency. I also can’t threaten Pierce with telling Mom that he won’t share, which means this look is the only thing in my arsenal. Damn it.

Without another word, he spins around, stomping off down the hall that leads from the kitchen. I move as fast as I can, following him, assuming this is the way to the bedroom. My bum ankle slows me down a tad, but I manage to keep him in my sights, even as he veers right, disappearing into a dark room.

I feel for a light switch as I enter the room, my hand quickly landing on it and flipping the rocker switch. A large chandelier comes to life, my eyes going wide with the scene in front of me. There’s so much to digest, and I don’t know where to start. On the far wall to my right is a massive, four-poster, mahogany, king-sized bed, with a beautiful, fluffy comforter. The duvet alone is calling to me, not to mention all the pillows paired with it. On each side of the bed is a matching nightstand, and a long chest of drawers sits on the adjacent wall, directly next to an old-fashioned wardrobe. To my left I see a barn door that is halfway obscuring what I assume is the en suite bathroom.

All of this is nothing, though, compared to the beautiful stone fireplace that is opposite the bed. Already lit with a roaring fire, it gives the room an ambiance that can’t be put into words. One of comfort and warmth, a place you can lose yourself and still be safe.

“Oh my God, this is…beautiful,” I mutter, stepping inside.

“Thanks.” Pierce shrugs, as if it’s nothing. Which, to him, I guess it is. It’s his bedroom, so he’s used to it. Although, I’m not sure I would ever get used to this. “Bathroom is over there.”

“Oh! Thanks!”

It takes some doing to limp slowly to the far corner, but I manage, making quick work of readying myself for bed.

“That’s your side of the bed; this is mine,” he says as I reemerge.

“What?”

I turn to face him, pulling myself away from staring into the fire. It’s just so mesmerizing that I can’t help it. Man, I’m going to sleep well tonight.

Pierce sighs heavily, clearly annoyed by all of this. Pointing to the bed, he makes himself clear. “My side, your side. Got it?”

“Aye, aye, Captain!”

“Rose…”

“What, do you think I’m going to maul you in your sleep?” I ask, rounding the bed and pulling down the covers. A light lavender scent fills my nostrils, my body aching to climb in.