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Mika
I wake up in the middle of the night to find my teeth chattering and my body curled futilely into a fetal position. It’s freezing! Well, not literally, but it’s considerably cooler than the muggy summer weather I went to bed with. Hurriedly I turn on the bedside light and that’s when I realize it’s raining outside and there’s enough wind to blow the water in through the screen. Crap.
I get out of bed to shut the window, but then I can’t figure out how to work the mechanism which is all fancy gizmos and LED indicators. But I don’t have any warmer clothes with me and have no idea where they keep the blankets. Not that more covers are going to fix wet sheets.
Shivering, I mince my way down the hall on frozen legs and tap on the door. “T-T-Tanner?” I manage to get out through my chattering teeth.
Almost instantly, he’s filling the doorframe, his warm hands on my shoulders. “Fuck, you’re freezing, Mika. What the hell happened?” He’s pulling me into the room and bundling me under his much thicker covers as he asks. His room is dark, so I can’t see where he is. Not until I feel the bed dip with his weight and suddenly he’s tucking me close against his naked chest. My eyes close in the bliss of all that heat. But they pop open again when he nudges me. “Baby?”
“I can’t figure out how to close the window,” I confess.
Tanner growls and reaches down to rub my feet. “We’ll fix it in the morning. Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”
I squeak in protest, but I’m too late. He’s already efficiently swiped my shorts and t-shirt off my body and presumably dropped them on the floor. Then he rolls me half under him, his hands tucking my arms and legs up against him. Finally he brings the blankets up over both of us and tucks them in. I’m in a special Tanner cocoon and almost instantly warm.
I give a little instinctive wiggle when I realize just how much of my skin is touching him. Tanner hums lightly, then nips my shoulder before growling, “Go to sleep. Or you’re going to be meeting with Mrs. Donnelly in the morning on the wedding arrangements.”
I still while I try to work out that cryptic statement. Oh. He told me before we left the city if we did ‘it’ he was keeping me. But he didn’t mention marriage then. My mouth opens to ask him questions, but just then his breathing deepens and his broad hand, spread against my hip, loosens imperceptibly. Not enough to slide out from under him, but I guess my questions can also wait for morning.
Tanner
I basically warned my subconscious of dire consequences if I didn’t wake up before Mika, so I’m not surprised when my eyes blink open in the pre-dawn light. She’s still snuggled in tight against me, her dark hair fanned out across the pillow, but her nose is tucked against my shoulder. Fuck, she’s sweet. And she fits against me like it was meant to be. I breathe her in for just a moment before sliding out of the bed. I’m careful to replace my body with a pillow and to tuck the blankets in around her so she doesn’t get cold again. She murmurs slightly and turns her head face-down on the pillow, fisting the corner.
I head down the hall to deal with my blue balls so I won’t wake her up. I’ll examine the window in her room later. They’re supposed to close automatically when the temperature drops, so something must have malfunctioned. Doesn’t matter. Mika clearly belongs in my bed and I plan to keep her there from here on out.
Sipping coffee downstairs, I almost choke when Mika pads in wearing my old college sweatshirt. She’s my every teenage wet dream come to life and I’m instantly painfully hard.
“Is it okay if I borrow this? I didn’t bring any clothes for cooler weather. This seems old.” She plucks at the ragged hem nervously.
“It is old,” I manage to get out. “But it looks better on you than it ever did on me. You should wear it every day, no matter the weather.” Maybe it’s the way my eyes can’t seem to move from the shadowy apex of her thighs, but she rather deliberately (and cruelly, in my opinion) lifts the hem to reveal perfectly modest cotton shorts.
I sigh, and she laughs. Then she saunters over and drops a kiss on my head. “Thank you for keeping me warm last night.”
Snagging an arm around her waist, I bring her in for a proper kiss that leaves us both gasping for air by the end. “You’re welcome, and you can repay me by returning this evening.”
Mika narrows her eyes at me. “Is that so?”
I nod emphatically. “I won’t be able to sleep if I’m worrying about you.”
Her face grows serious, and she traces the line of my jaw with an absent finger. “Tanner… in your office when we met you mentioned keeping me if we, uh, you know…” I do know. I’ve been thinking of nothing else since, but I bite my tongue to let her finish. “And then last night — you mentioned planning a wedding. What did you really mean?”
I pull her down on my lap so I can meet her gaze without craning my neck. And so I can keep her from running away, at least until I explain.
“They’re the same thing, sweetness. And it’s a question of when, not if. Keeping you means marrying you, holding you every night, loving you endlessly and hoping to God you feel the same way and will still do twenty years from now.”
“Oh.” She’s quiet for a long moment, her finger absently fiddling with one of the buttons on my shirt. “But…”
“But what?”
“I’m not billionaire wife material.”
I growl at that. She’s perfect, and even she’s not allowed to say otherwise. I get a wan smile in response. “Tanner, I can’t walk in high heels without tripping, and I never know what to say to people in small talk and am almost always saying something I shouldn’t.”
“So you’d rather stay home?” I ask, trying to keep the eagerness out of my voice. For Mika, I would endure a few galas and balls if she wanted to experience the glitz.
She nods, her expression apologetic. I give her a smacking kiss. “Excellent. You really are perfect.”
Mika appears taken aback, so I tug her closer against me. “Baby, if I wanted a woman to trot out on the red carpet or show off at dinner parties, I’d have one by now. They’re a dime a dozen in certain circles. Really not that hard to find. But a woman that slides into my heart while actively trying not to, doesn’t give a damn about the money and reaches for the oldest shirt she can find in my closet is a one in a million.”
