Nicole: I’m surprising the guys with a scene when they get home from work.
Grace: Please tell me you’re going to be cutting the heads off long stem roses when they get there.
Nicole: OMG. Genius.
I shoot her a bunch of black heart emojis and check my emails and social media. Well, well, well, what do we have here?MountainWoodhas uploaded a new video.
I tap it to play.
At first, it’s just the snow-covered ground which I’m pretty sure is his front yard. Then he walks into the camera from the right of the screen, shirtless. His jeans hang low on his hips and his dark brown hair is slicked back. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, which almost makes him look a little shy, especially when he drops his head with the faintest smile on his handsome face.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” He looks directly into the camera. “I hope you slept well. I didn’t mean to keep you up all night but…” He bites his lip seductively. “I just can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”
My motherfucking ovaries explode.
“How about I bring you breakfast in bed? Would you like that, sugar?” He pauses long enough for my heart to pound three times. “Stay right there for me. I’m coming.”
He definitely will be when I see him, that’s for sure.
Squealing, I hurry up and leave a comment:How about I be your breakfast in bed?
I’m giddy already and he probably won’t see the response for a few hours. I don’t care. It’s fun doing these little videos where he talks to me, but no one else knows it. It’s like we have the most public secret relationship there ever was.
Forgoing work stuff, I roll out of bed and pull one of Dean’s shirts on and head out to the kitchen. I’m sure coffee is brewed, and he has a mug out for me. He’s done it every morning, and I look forward to seeing what notes he leaves around the house for me to find.
The fire roars in the living room. Oscar is in her bed, chewing on what’s left of the lamb I bought her. “Good morning, girl.”
Tucking my bed head behind my ears, I yawn again and shuffle into the kitchen. There’s my mug. And my coffee. And my note that says,I told you to stay in bed.
He can punish me for it later if he wants. I’ll look forward to it.
Pouring a cup of ambition, I curl up on the couch and watch the snow fall. There’s a few more inches on the ground, but nothing too crazy. Just enough to make it look like a beautiful postcard.
Boots stomping on the front porch has both me and Oscar perking up.
Dean steps inside carrying a bin of firewood. Snowflakes are all over his head, and he still doesn’t have a shirt on. He takes one look at me on the couch and narrows his eyes. “Bad girl. I told you to stay in bed.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “So punish me.”
He treks through the house in his boots, leaving little puddles of melting snow in his wake, and heads right to the fireplace to drop the bin. Then he prowls over to me and kisses me so thoroughly, my brains cells melt too.
“Fucking hell, you’re so pretty in the morning,” he says.
“I look like an electrocuted, drunk cat.”
Dean frowns and slow blinks. “Now that you mention it.”
I smack his arm.
He nips my neck.
I run my hands down his back.
He slips his hands up my shirt.
“We’ve really got to stop meeting like this,” I tease.
“I’m obsessed.” He kisses down my neck, around my collarbone, and up the other side of my face. “Hungry?”
