In Over His Head

Chapter 37

As Sharla shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, all of Kevin's planned arguments came to a screeching halt as he processed what she'd just said. She was putting all these damned pillows on the bed so she wouldn't give in? He let out a laugh, which was likely the wrong thing to do, because a moment later, one of the heavy embroidered pillows was winging its way towards his head.

He ducked just in time, and it hit the Oakwood headboard with a thud. Another pillow sailed past him as he jumped away from the bed. She was mad.

"Listen up, buddy. You think this is funny?" she shouted, jumping up. "We're in the middle of fucking nowhere, surrounded by the ocean, and if we can't leave in time I miss Gretch's wedding... I'm pretty sure I ate three days worth of calories in that meal and my bridesmaid dress is tight already, and—"

"Slow, Shar, slow," he said. She was amping up, and he catalogued the stress on her face. Shit.

"The past few days have been really, really terrible. I'm here in the same damned room with you when I'd rather be a thousand miles from you drowning my sorrows into a good bottle of Pinot sweating off this damned food in a sauna," she added.

"One meal is not going to break you," he replied.

Sharla snorted a laugh out and rolled her eyes at him. "You obviously know nothing of what a woman's body does when it sees carbs like we saw tonight. I'm going to retain water like a camel for the next three days."

"We'll be in Toronto in time, I promise you. I'm certain you'll look stunning no matter what, Sharla. Camel or no."

She halted in mid-reach for a gaudy orange and yellow rectangle pillow with 'long may your big jib draw' embroidered on the front, pulling it to her lap as she sunk back onto the bed. He waited to see if that was enough to jolt her and let her brain catch up to the rest of her. She worried the corner of the pillow with her fingers, letting out a huge, stressful breath.

"You know the moment we're together like this it's like fucking dynamite with a lit fuse. I don't want to be the other... and even if I..."

Even if you what?" he replied, prodding her to finish her thought.

She frowned. "You're not in a position to ask me that, you're seeing—"

Jerking to her feet again, she pressed her lips together. He'd never seen her suppress her thoughts like that. It was normally blurt first, then regret. Something in him decided to needle her. Maybe it was the shot of screech burning a hole in his stomach, or it was absolute frustration with her stubbornness. He wanted her to finish that thought. Desperately.

"Even if what?" he prodded. He closed the space between them and she brandished the pillow like a fat, oblong sword.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" he replied. She whacked him with the pillow, and he stepped forward again. "Even if what, Shar?"

"Oh for fuck's sake," Sharla breathed out and pushed the pillow into his chest. "Don't make me say it."

He grabbed it, set it aside and stepped almost flush to her. "Say it."

"I want to," she finished quietly, almost a whisper, and frowned.

Being this close to her was prompting the most inappropriate thoughts and she had just admitted she wanted him. He wouldn't touch her, he'd not go back on his word, but he was sorely tempted to see what would happen if he did. He fisted his hands to keep from pulling her flush to his already tortured body.

"Was that so hard?" he murmured, and she glared at him. "Nothing to it. You say what and when, Shar."

"I'm not going to... You're with her and..." she stuttered. "No, never mind. It is late, and this is ridiculous. I'm done with this stress tonight, Kevin. We need sleep."