Shaking the Sleigh: Seasons in Singletree by Stewart Delancey

Author:Stewart, Delancey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-24T16:00:00+00:00

13

It Always Comes Back to Pigs

April

Waking up in Callan's bed was … different. I was used to sleeping in a hotel, so waking up in a somewhat strange bed was nothing new, but waking up surrounded by strong muscled arms and the mingled scent of pine and something that was distinctly manly—that was definitely new. As I lay in the circle of masculine arms, pressing back lazily against his chest and feeling a distinctly steely length against one side of my butt, I let myself relive the previous night, which had been amazing.

Callan was funny and sweet, not at all like the grumpy jerk I’d met when I’d first come to his house. Or like the miserable guy who had all but shooed me off his property after shopping for Christmas decorations. It felt like he had let his guard down with me, like this was the real Callan under all the bravado and self-pity. And this guy? Well, I liked him. A lot.

But that was a bit of a problem too, and no matter how I tried to push away thoughts about what my uncle might say if he found out I’d just had sex with the key homeowner on my latest show, those thoughts were there. And I knew my uncle would be disappointed, to say the least. And that I’d be out of a job, and possibly a career. And maybe my apartment, since I wouldn't be able to pay rent … really, my whole life was at stake.

Still, this didn't feel like an illicit island dalliance, as my last mistake had been. And Callan didn't feel like an ego-driven conquest. I hadn't planned to fall into this enormous wooden sleigh bed with Callan Whitewood—it had just happened. And honestly? I thought it had happened in a much more normal and healthy way than many of my previous relationships had come into being. I liked Callan. And he seemed to like me. Wasn't that how things should begin?

"Hey," Callan's sleepy voice came from behind me as his arms tightened around my waist, pulling me firmly against the rock-hard erection between us.

"Hey," I returned, wiggling against him.

"It's almost seven," he said, his voice half-whispered in my ear, tickling me and sending a shiver through me. "Do you need to get to work or can you hang out a bit?"

I wanted to hang out. I thought I might like to hang out all day, and maybe spend some time investigating the iron rod Callan had in his bed, but I really didn't have time for that. "I actually need to go," I said, rolling over and putting a hand over my mouth as I faced Callan.

"What are you doing?" he laughed, pulling my hand away.

"Dragon breath," I said, trying to put it back and turning my head so I didn't breathe in his face.

His eyebrows went up but he didn't release me, pulling me closer to his warm chest instead. "I have a theory," he said. "That if two people both have morning breath, neither of them will notice the other's.

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