She smirks, leaning against the counter like she owns the place already. “Wine. Coffee will keep me awake. But before I go to sleep, I need to explore your big tower.”
My big tower.
Cripes, that takes me back to earlier when I pulled her against me and boom—instant boner. I had to hold her there, before every patron in the busy pub saw it, and at the same time, somehow hide it from her. I’m not one hundred percent sure I was successful in the latter. Fortunately she didn’t bring it up, but now I wonder if that big tower comment might mean something else entirely.
I give an easy laugh, going with the theory that it’s my house she wants to explore, I say, “I can give you a tour.”
I pour her a glass of wine and grab a beer for myself. As designated driver, I only had one earlier. We sip as I give her a tour of the main level and she glances around with an appreciative eye.
“It’s really actually nice, Jaxon. I love the family pictures.”
“Mom had a hand in helping me decorate. It’s her thing.”
“Oh, I know it. I’ve been inside the Snowberry Inn a number times.” But then she stiffens, and grips her stemware tighter.
“What?”
She glances around, looking at the ceiling. “I’m not going to find a mistletoe alarm in here am I?”
“Not a single one,” I assure her.
She grins as I turn on a lamp and the soft glow falls over the room. For the first time in forever, this house feels less lonely, less like a house and more like a home and it has everything to do with Rowyn being here with me.
“I suppose you don’t need an alarm.” She playfully pokes my stomach. “The women you bring back here don’t need any gimmicks to get them to kiss you.”
He gives me a playful wink. “Are you saying you don’t need a gimmick? I mean, you are a woman and I brought you.”
“Yeah, I get that, but I’m not what the papers call a bunny.”
“For the record, the only bunny I’ve ever had in my place was Poppy.”
My stomach tightens. I do not want to know anything about this Poppy bunny, or what they’d done, but hey, I’m the one who brought it up, so this is on me.
He puts his hand on the small of my back and my traitorous body quivers. Dammit, I hope he didn’t feel that. I glance up at him, and he has a slight grin on his face when he gestures to the big staircase. “Now come on, let’s go get you out of these clothes.”
8
Rowyn
With his hand still warming my back, he guides me toward the staircase. I start to climb, aware of how close he’s staying behind me, and that my butt is basically level with his face. Not that it matters. It’s not like he’s admiring the view or anything. And when he said he wanted me out of my clothes, he wasn’t looking to seduce me. Which, of course, I’m grateful for… I think.
Ugh.
But seriously, it’s late and we both need to get to bed.
Separately.
The first room we come to is his. He steps inside and I peek in, my gaze cataloguing the massive king-sized bed front and center, the kind that could sleep three people comfortably. I can’t help but wonder if he ever shared it with Poppy. Or someone else. Or maybe a few someones at a time. The thought hits somewhere I don’t want to name. I should be happy for him—he used to love life outside of hockey. But lately he’s been stuck in a rut, and I hate seeing that spark dim. It’s not fair. I want to fix it somehow, but I don’t even know where to start.
“Nice room,” I say, tentatively stepping inside.
He heads to his dresser while I take it all in. I expected bachelor minimalism, neutral walls, furniture that looks rented. But the space is warm, comfortable, and lived-in. Not at all like mine. The fireplace, the rich tones, the throw pillows that definitely didn’t come from a guy’s solo shopping trip.
“Your mom helped decorate this too?”
“You know it.”
I grin, moving toward the loveseat by the stone fireplace. “This is incredible, Jaxon.”