Page 8 of My Fiancé's Brother
I sensedJackson coming down the stairs behind me.
I twisted in my seat to look at him. “Do you know how to drive a truck?”
“I have a truck. What do you need?”
“I need to pick up your bed.”
“From where?”
“The store.”
A beat passed. “I don’t have to stay here. Emily.”
My stupid heart fluttered at the sound of him saying my name. He was right. He didn’t have to stay here. In fact, it didn’t make any sense that this stranger would become an extended guest. But for reasons I could not explain, I wanted to make him stay.
Perhaps it was the sense that he was hell-bent on leaving. I got the distinct impression he despised imposing. Especially on strangers. The man seemed resolute on being self-contained. He was not some freeloader who walked into a place and made himself at home. He didn’t want to be here. Which made me want to welcome him and make him feel at home.
“Why don’t you want to stay here?”
Green eyes squinted at me. He spread his big hands out wide to stretch and then relaxed them. “Let’s go.”
I grabbed my bag and then headed downstairs. His truck was big and black and looked exactly like the kind of vehicle this man would drive. I didn’t want to drive with him becausewe might have to talk.
In a cowardly act, with my head bent over my phone, I gave him the address. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that I wanted to take my own car.
“See you there!”
He responded with another intense look and then he was gone.
CHAPTER 4
The bed storehad a showroom full of beds. Jackson prowled around while I listened to a salesperson talk about foam density and interconnected coils. I sat down on a few mattresses but I had no idea what Jackson’s preference was when it came to mattresses.
“Jackson.”
He walked towards us. His movement added to his tough demeanor. I tried to pinpoint why he seemed so dangerous, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“What kind of bed do you like?”
His inscrutable expression took in the sales guy, me and the bed.
I tried again. “Do you like soft beds? Hard beds? A mattress with lots of spring?”
My face burst into heat. Something about a springy bed sounded provocative to my ears. He contemplated my red face.
Finally, he answered. “It doesn’t matter.”
The salesperson interjected, “The best way to figure out what you like is to test drive the beds.”
An insane vision of Jackson and I rolling around on the bed cameto mind. Another wave of heat washed over me. I refrained from fanning my face.
Jackson looked towards the door. He may want to bolt, but there was no way I was choosing his bed. The least he could do was tell me what he liked.
“Well, better get testing then,” I said, waving my hand towards the bed. I sat down on the bed and then lay back. “This one seems a bit too hard for my taste, but you tell me.”
His face was almost a scowl, but he moved to the other side of the bed. The mattress depressed beside me. I turned my head. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. This was the last place he wanted to be.
“What do you think?” It was strangely intimate to be lying next to him. Which made me nervous.
