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Chase shot up off the bed, probably trying to help, but something about the way he quickly zipped his pants just made the whole situation appear worse.
Miranda took several steps back and slammed the door.
Chase glanced down at her. “I’m sorry,” he said sounding genuine.
Della fell back onto the mattress, closing her eyes, and wondered how one’s emotions could move from horrified to wanting to be kissed to being humiliated in seconds.
“Just leave,” she pleaded and listened to see if he granted her request.
No footsteps sounded in the room. Instead, the mattress gave as he sat down beside her. “You sure you’re okay? That was pretty damn scary. I just … I … you … the thing…”
When he stopped making sense, she opened her eyes and caught him noticing what she was wearing—or what she wasn’t wearing—seemingly for the first time. “Please just go.”
His eyes swept up to her face. Slowly. All that tender concern in his eyes had turned into something different. His pupils were large and the green in his eyes seemed to glitter with a different kind of emotion. “But … uh … Don’t you think we should … talk about what all we saw?”
“Not now,” she said through tight lips and covered herself with the pillow again. Her bikini would reveal more than her bra and panties, but because it wasn’t a bathing suit, she felt more vulnerable.
“Okay.” He turned toward the door.
“Not that way,” she snapped. “The window.”
He looked back, just a hint of a smile in his eyes. “If I sneak out, she’ll really believe we were … you know.”
Della sat up, and hugged the pillow. “You aren’t wearing a shirt, your pants were undone, and I’m in my underwear. And for some unknown reason we were kissing. There is nothing in this world you could say to her that will convince her that we weren’t doing … ‘you know’! So just use the window.”
He opened it and had one leg out when he glanced back, that teasing look now brighter in his eyes. “One thing.”
“What?” She scowled.
He countered her expression with a smile. “Make that two.”
“What?” she snapped again.
“One,” he paused. “This … the kiss that just happened. It was your choice. You kissed me.”
She frowned, because damn it, she didn’t want to be reminded.
“Second. You got your days wrong.”
“Huh?”
“You’re wearing your Friday panties, and it’s Sunday.”
She tossed the pillow at him then glanced down to confirm it. Yup, she was wearing her day-of-the-week panties.
She threw her arm over her eyes and moaned.
Chapter Sixteen
Minutes later, dressed, but still not ready to face her friend’s accusations, or the deadly cold that had returned, Della heard another set of footsteps move up on her front porch. She inhaled the frigid air, and recognized Kylie’s scent, along with Socks, her cat.
She heard Kylie speaking with Miranda. Della purposely didn’t listen, only imagining what the witch was telling her. Then a loud feline howl filled the cabin. Was the cat protesting Baxter’s earlier visit?
Right then the chameleon knocked on Della’s bedroom door.
“Come in,” Della said, as if she really had a choice.
Kylie moved in first, her expression serious. She dropped on the edge of the bed beside Della. “Are you okay?”