The Room Mate Page 51

Living with Cannon was an easy adjustment since we were already used to sharing a space. But this time it was even better. Instead of two separate bedrooms, we shared one room. We’d grown closer than ever these past few weeks, even making plans to travel abroad and do the humanitarian work we were both interested in. And last night, Cannon had even brought up the topic of weddings, asking which type I’d prefer, small and intimate or an all-out celebration. I could only imagine it was his way of hinting that a proposal might be coming soon, an idea I was totally on board with.

Stepping out of the shower, I saw his towel hanging neatly next to mine. Last night we’d cooked dinner together, and then he’d left for an all-night shift, kissing me softly on the mouth before he went.

Wrapped in a towel with a turban on my head, I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, then sat down on the edge of our bed.

After blow-drying my hair and applying light makeup, I tidied up the apartment dressed only in my robe. I still had about twenty minutes before Cannon was due home.

As I rubbed coconut-scented lotion into my skin, I was suddenly struck by an idea. I quickly rummaged through the back of the closet until I found it—the sexy nurse costume I’d worn two years ago when Allie had talked me into that Halloween bar crawl. The night had been a disaster. Allie had run into an ex-flame from high school, and we’d hidden in the alley to avoid him. All the good this costume had done for me, escaping to the darkness for no one to see. We’d sipped our cocktails out of little plastic cups, cursing her ex’s name, and then left a short time later. I wasn’t even sure why I’d packed this in the move.

I slid the white thigh-high nylons up my legs, satisfaction blooming in my chest. Maybe this would give me the boost of confidence I needed to get out of my funk. I just prayed Cannon would play along. I added the inappropriately short white skirt that barely skimmed the top of my thighs and the matching top, which was so tight and low cut, it hugged every curve of my waist, forcing my breasts to spill out over the top. Then I faced the full-length mirror and smiled at my reflection.

Do I look silly or sexy? I couldn’t tell.

The click of the front door opening hit me like a tidal wave, and panic rose in my chest.

“Paige?” Cannon called from the front hall.

The rich timbre of his voice sent me spiraling toward desire as I stepped through the doorway and stopped. He stood in the hallway, and his mouth dropped open when he saw me.

“Wanna play doctor?” I asked, using my most sultry tone.

Cannon didn’t answer—just continued feasting his eyes over my skin, his expression growing darker.

The thin cotton scrubs he wore left little to the imagination, and as he became aroused by what he saw, his erection tented the front of his pants.

The situation was so playful, so silly, that with anyone else, I would have giggled. But not with this man. Cannon stalked toward me like a cheetah stalks a gazelle. He was all intense masculine energy, his gaze penetrating and possessive.

He took me in his arms, kissing me deeply. “Fuck, you look hot,” he groaned when he finally pulled away.

“Did you have a good day at work, handsome?” I smiled up at him, loving the way he looked in his scrubs, loving the way his strong hands settled on my waist. I loved everything about him.

“Let’s just say I’m happy to be home.”

I smiled again. Home. It really was. We’d built a home together, and it had all happened so fast. But all of our routines fell into place, all of our hopes and dreams aligned. All that was left to do was enjoy it.

I couldn’t imagine a day would come where I wouldn’t want this man with every fiber of my being. And no matter what life might throw at us, I knew without a doubt that together, we would always make lemonade.

Up Next in This Series

Smith Hamilton has it all—he’s smart, good-looking, and loaded. But he remembers a time when he had nothing and no one, so he’s not about to mess up, especially with his best friend’s little sister. That means keeping Evie at arm’s length . . . even though the once pesky little girl is now a buxom bombshell. A sexy blonde who pushes his self-control to the limit the night she crawls into bed with him.

Evie Reed knows she’s blessed—with an exclusive education, a family who loves her, and a new job managing social media for her family’s lingerie company. But she wants more, like a reason to wear the sexy lingerie herself. She has just the man in mind to help with that. She’s crushed on Smith forever. Surely tricking her way into his bed will force him to see her in a new, adult way.

Except that when Evie’s plan leads to disaster, she and Smith must decide—ignore the attraction sizzling between them, or become play mates and risk it all.

What’s sexier than a bad boy? A badass man who’s got his shit together.

Max Alexander is nearing thirty-five. He’s built a successful company and conquered the business world, but he’s never been lucky in love. Focusing so much time on his business and raising his daughter, adulting has come at the expense of his personal life.

His social skills are shit, his patience is shot, and at times, his temper runs hot.

The last thing he has time for is the recently single, too-gorgeous-for-her-own-good young woman he hires to take care of his little girl. She’s a distraction he doesn’t need, and besides, there’s no way she’d be interested.

But you know what they say about assumptions?

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