And he still wanted to roll her over, cover that sensual mouth with his own, and thread his fingers into that tangled mess of hair as he woke her up and nudged her legs apart. But today was Monday, and that meant they couldn’t spend another day in bed like yesterday. They’d chosen his place after the party on Saturday, and she was still here.
As quietly as he could, he slipped from bed and padded to the bathroom to answer nature’s call. He winced at the flush of the toilet and the splash of water in the sink as he washed his hands, afraid the sounds would wake her up. But when he emerged, she was still sound asleep. Still in that same messy position.
When Gretchen slept, she slept hard.
Colton pulled on a pair of sweatpants, quickly brushed his teeth, and then tiptoed downstairs to start some coffee. As it brewed, he filled Pickle’s bowl and checked the neglected messages on his phone. He hadn’t looked at it once since they’d stumbled to his bedroom late Saturday night.
Two messages were from his mom reminding him that their plane would land at seven tomorrow night and to make sure—this was emphasized with several emojis—that Gretchen was there so the family could meet her.
There were several from the guys giving him good-natured shit for finally having the balls to make it official with Gretchen.
And then there was one from his manager sent just a few minutes ago. Listened to the new stuff. Call me. Anxiety made his armpits prickle with unease.
Best to get this over with now.
Buck answered immediately in a breathless tone that said he was on the treadmill. The man conducted business twenty-four hours a day and was even known to take a call on the toilet. “I’m not sure if I should be pissed at you right now or kiss you.”
Colton’s stomach rolled over. “How about you just tell me what you thought?”
The whir of the treadmill picked up a notch. “I think it’s the best stuff you’ve written in years.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Buck.”
“No bullshit. I fucking cried, man.”
And now Colton wanted to. Relief made his knees weak.
“You’ve tapped into something here, Colton. I don’t know how you did it but keep doing it. Let me know when you’re ready to send stuff over to Archie.”
“Give me a few more days,” he said, an idea taking hold. “I want to tweak a few things.”
“Got it.” The treadmill whirred faster. “Seriously, though, man. What happened?”
Colton looked at the ceiling. “I found my muse.”
Who was awake by the time he returned upstairs. The bed was empty, and the bathroom door was closed. Colton set two coffee mugs on the nightstand and crawled back into bed. A moment later, the bathroom door opened. She walked out wearing one of his shirts—the one he’d discarded Saturday night. It hung to her thighs and draped loosely across the swell of her breasts.
She literally made his mouth water.
“Morning, sunshine,” he teased. “Coffee?”
She made an unintelligible noise that might have been thank you but could have easily been humbug. But even grumpy and disheveled, she made his heart race.
“What time is it?”
“Time for you to come back to bed for a few minutes.”
She set down her coffee and let him draw her onto his lap. She immediately hunched up and leaned into his chest, her head on his shoulder. A warm mmm emerged from her chest as he rubbed his hands up and down her back. “You’re going to put me back to sleep,” she murmured.
“So call in sick.”
“My clients can’t call in sick.”
He kissed her temple. “Your devotion to your work is one of the sexiest things about you, so I suppose I should let you go.”
She sat up and gazed down at him. “And I need to go talk to Evan.”
Right. To tell him that Colton was going to pass on the endorsement. “Let me do it.”
“No, it needs to be me.”
Colton brushed the hair from her shoulders. “Want me to at least go with you?”
“Probably best if I do it alone.”
He disagreed but didn’t voice it. “How do you think he’s going to react?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll just shrug and say it’s no big deal and thank me profusely for helping him out.”
Gretchen reached out her hand toward her coffee. Colton passed it to her and watched, amused, as she cradled it, breathing it in like the steam from a nebulizer. After taking a first sip, a scant flash of alertness brightened her eyes.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. She glanced at it and smiled. “It’s a text from your mom.”