Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

JENNIE

“Are you okay?” Bridger asks as I deposit my barely drank second cup down the drain of the sink.

A laughter devoid of humor leaves my lips. “Define okay?” I mean, I have a supposed stalker who may be in the woods outside of my cabin and the main of my dreams is standing here offering me his protection. I exhale. “This is just a lot to take in, you know. I never imagined that we’d meet. Not like this or at all.”

He takes a final sip of coffee before his mug joins mine in the sink. His arms circle around me, feeling like home. Wetting his lips, he towers over me. “Look, we’re going to figure this out. All of it.” His gaze softens, focusing on my lips, and I can scarcely breathe at the intention behind his words.

“Ahem,” I clear my throat, needing to break the tension. He releases me and immediately I miss the safety of his warmth and strength. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“It’s kind of personal,” I warn.

“All right.” He leans a hip against the counter as I stare out the window, gripping the sink for support. “Why did you divorce?” What I’m not saying is, did you get divorced because of your online presence and how flirty you are with the women who follow you?

“She had an affair and another man’s baby.”

I try to hide my shock at how forthcoming he is. No anger in his voice. Only honesty. “Oh. Well, that’s a good reason.”

“Anything else you want to ask?”

“Do you maybe want to put on a shirt?”

“Why? Is my naked chest distracting?”

“Um, I need to get to work, but you’re free to hangout and provide inspiration as long as you’re quiet.”

“I can do quiet,” he murmurs, his gaze meeting mine in a way that makes my heart race. He reaches up to trace a thumb softly over the corner of my mouth. “But I can’t promise the inspiration won’t distract you.” His pec muscles move up and down and I shake my head. It’s a move that riles all the women up who follow him.

His flirty smile sends a flutter through my stomach. “Well, keep it PG please,” I mumble, biting on my lip to stop myself from grinning, hoping I’m not once again blushing in his presence.

“I’ll try my best.” He winks as he walks out of the kitchen, leaving me with my thoughts. Bridger is everything I imagined he would be, but better. His online persona is flirty but gruff. In person, he’s charming and I’m drawn to him in a way I can’t explain. Maybe it’s his protective nature or the alluring drawl of his voice, but I’m even more infatuated with him.

Stepping away from the sink, I head towards my workspace where I set up my laptop while my coffee was brewing earlier. The desk faces the living room window overlooking more of the woods that surround us. Bridger makes himself comfortable on the couch behind me, a larger-than-life presence that has my arm hair standing on end in anticipation of what the day holds.

There’s no way I’m going to be able to focus with him here in such forced proximity, but I have to try. I boot up my computer and wait for my file to load. Normally I write with earbuds in to listen to my playlist as I write, but feel that would be rude with Bridger here.

Instead, I opt for playing my music at a low volume.

“You like Deftones?” His voice carries a hint of surprise.

“Doesn’t everyone?” I question, glancing at him over my shoulder.

“Not my ex.”

“Then she definitely has bad taste, excluding you, of course.”

“Well, thanks for that.” He lets out a laugh that warms my belly.

I return to my story and for the first time in what feels like months; the words come fast. My fingers fly across the keyboard in a familiar rush as I get lost in my fictional world. I sense Bridger getting up and moving around the cabin a few times, but he’s held true to his word. He can do quiet. In fact, he’s so quiet that I nearly miss the fact that he’s filming me as I type.

“What are you doing?”

“Figured I’d make some content. A little cross posting for the two of us. Something for your readers.” He shrugs.

“Hmm,” I muse. “It’s not a bad idea.”

He smirks, all cocky looking, utterly delicious in his jeans and bare chest. The mask he normally wears stuffed halfway in his front right pocket.

Butterflies swirl in my lower stomach as our gazes meet.

“Good.” Bridger resumes his position on the couch, crossing his arms above his head, stretching his stomach muscles in a way that has my heart beating so fast I’d be surprised if he can’t hear the wild thumping about to explode from my chest.

I turn back to my work, trying to rein in the chaotic emotions stirring inside me.

Hours seem to pass as I type away, my characters coming to life on the screen before me, the story playing vividly like a movie in my head. Occasionally, I catch Bridger filming me from the corner of my eye and a thrill shoots through me every time. It’s oddly comforting having his domineering presence surrounding me while he’s quietly unobtrusive as I work.

Eventually, I stiffen at the crick in my neck and walk over to the kitchen. As I stretch, I notice Bridger’s gaze following me with an intensity that sets my heart racing again. He smiles at me when I catch him looking. His grin is less cocky and more tender.

“How’s the story coming along?” he asks as I grab a glass from the cabinet to get water from the tap. I really should have gone to the store this morning for supplies.

“Great. You’re a good muse,” I confess.

“Oh yeah.” He moves from the couch and glances out the front window.

“I’ve gotta head into town for provisions. Want to go, or do you have something better to do?”

“Babe,” he calls out softly in such an endearing way my heart ceases to beat.

“Yeah?” I answer, trying at the same time releasing a trembling breath.

“Think we’re both aware I’m going wherever you go.”

“Right.” He’s doing his job. That’s all this is, isn’t it?