Page 57 of Midnight Ink

His eyes snap to mine, dark and searching. The air between us begins to tighten. I can feel my pulse in my throat. “Are you still mad?” I ask quietly.

“No.” He swallows and I watch his throat bob, and I have the inappropriate thought that I want to lick it. Right from the dip of his collarbone up to his throat. Maybe while I’m straddling his lap and his hands are on my waist. Okay, shit, think of something else.

“We deserve a break, Jules.” I offer a smile. “Beaches and sunshine are overrated anyway.”

His lips grow into a smile. “My mom loved storms like this,” he says suddenly. “She’d plan for them. Her favorite tea, a good book. These ridiculous fuzzy socks. A warm blanket. A show she’d been putting off.”

The shift is abrupt, but I’ll take it. I just want him to talk to me. “Fuzzy socks?” He nods, and something soft settles over his features. It feels fragile. “Then let’s do that. A storm day just for her.”

He looks at me and then he hits me with a small smile. “I don’t have fuzzy socks, and you don’t have your bag.”

I think for a moment and I have an idea. “Well, if you don’t mind lending me a pair of pajamas, I’ll go downstairs and see what I can come up with.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asks as I stand.

“Pick out a few good movies. I’ll be right back.”

I make my way downstairs, my footsteps echoing through the cavernous house. It’s too big for just us to be here. Too quiet. I can imagine how this house would have looked years ago, filled with laughter, arguments, the clink of dishes, and the breath of life.

I don’t know the first thing about running a bed and breakfast, but I do know what it’s like to build something from nothing. To pour yourself into a dream and pray you don’t fail. I know this because I watched Maddox go through it. For the most part he was very optimistic and refused to let challenges slow him down.

Then there were the few rare moments when his insecurities would catch up, and self-doubt would creep in. It didn’t happen often, but I always made sure to remind him how incredible he was and that nothing would stop him.

Since talking to Alexander something inside me has softened. I saw it in his eyes—love. The kind that hurts when you can’t fix what’s hurting the person you love. I know that feeling so well.

“Oh, Ian.” Xia beams as she steps into the dining room carrying a large box in her arms.

I hurry over and take it from her; it’s heavier than it looks. “Oh, thank you. Right over here.”

I set it down on the long wooden table. Inside are stacks of dishware wrapped in newspaper. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Just cleaning up a bit.” She smiles. “These were my mother’s. I thought I’d polish them and set them out for guests.” If we get any is what I hear. “They’re too pretty to stay in the box. Is there something I can help you with?” she asks.

“Um, yeah, actually.” I glance around the dining room aware of how intimate this house feels despite its size. “Julian and I are going to watch a movie. I thought maybe tea or hot chocolate would be nice if you had any. I can pay you back.”

“Like a movie date?” She grins wide.

Heat crawls up my neck. “Not a date. No. Just a friendly hangout.”

“Sure thing.” She winks. Oh my god. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll bring up hot chocolate and tea for Mr. Julian if he wants it.”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

She shoos me out of the dining room. “No problem at all. You go on upstairs. I’ve got everything under control for your movie date.”

I twist to look at her as I walk up the stairs. “Not a date.”

“Whatever you say.” She beams, disappearing into the kitchen.

I head back up, my heart beating a little too fast for someone who insists this isn’t a date.

Julian is in the room when I step in, wearing baby-blue pajama pants. They hang on him like the waistband is giving his hips a gentle hug. I take a moment to admire the curve of his ass behind the fabric. Unfortunately for my eyes, he turns around when he hears the door shut. “Oh, hey.” His eyes flick down to my empty hands. “She didn’t have anything?”

“She’s bringing it up.” I swallow. “In twenty.”

He nods. “Nice.”

“Nice pants.” I swallow, trying like hell to drag my eyes away from him.