champagne Ellory had devised a plan.
Or, well, she’d
un
-devised part of her plan. The whole point of her resolution had been to remove distraction and give herself the attention she’d normally pay to a relationship, so she could work on herself. Figure out what was wrong with her. Figure out what she wanted to do with her life. Traveling was getting old. She wanted to settle down, but she didn’t want to lose her ideals in order to build a life.
Tearing off Anson’s clothes and dragging him to bed wouldn’t change any of that. It wouldn’t solve her problems. It wouldn’t make them worse. If anything, it made her more acutely aware of the fact that they were waiting for her. And they would still be waiting for her when the skies cleared and the power came back on, and Anson was no longer stranded here with her.
“Or we could go to bed and be warm under the blankets. I brought my quilt, it’s really warm and snuggly.” Temptation lit his eyes, but was chased out by that deep scowl she’d come to loathe. “Or you could go to sleep by yourself and I will go spend time with Mira and the patient guests. She’s come down, by the way. You’ve got some free time to sleep if you want it. You look like you need it, and if you aren’t into chasing away demons for the next few hours in the manner we’d both enjoy, then you should sleep.”
She thought a second and added before he could protest, “Better now than when the storm clears and you have to go back out after Jude.”
“No argument here.” He untied his boots, kicked them off and stripped out of the suit as he walked to the bed.
Ellory watched until he was under the blankets in his thermals, at which point Max gave up his spot by the fire and went to curl up on Anson’s feet on top of the fluffy duvet.
After she spent some time making sure everyone got fed, she’d get some sleep too.
On the couch. She’d already made enough moves on the man. The next move was his.
*
Ellory awoke after a long night of lumpy sleep on the couch, burrowed beneath her quilt with her head propped on one of the cushions and Max panting in her face.
“Good that you woke up. I think Max was about to wash your face. With his tongue,” Anson said from where he sat, using her duffel stuffed with the snow suit from hell like a beanbag chair in front of the fire.
The dog’s tongue was exactly the last thing she wanted on her face this morning. But after the way the night had gone, and the fact that she was sleeping on the couch when she’d much rather have been sleeping beside big warm Anson...well, Ellory didn’t wake up feeling chipper.
Rolling over so she faced the couch back, she pulled the quilt over her head to block out the smell of dog mouth and ignored both of them.
When the power had gone out, Mira couldn’t be kept out of things any more, so in theory Ellory didn’t have anything to do this morning. No duties to perform, nothing to organize. And as guilty as it made her feel to be glad about that, she figured she’d probably handled things as well as she could for as long as she could. Two straight days of organizing and keeping everything under control was too much responsibility and decision-making for her.
Besides that, yesterday had felt like it had been weeks long.
And today still felt like yesterday, however that worked out.
The smell of food filtered through the quilt now that Max wasn’t breathing on her face. Eggs. He was making eggs somehow. Could you cook with gas logs?
She closed her eyes tighter and tried to ignore the scent.
Her stomach growled.
“The storm is still going.” Anson spoke again, apparently not satisfied with her attempt to cocoon herself away from all contact. “But the kitchen staff brought up breakfast. Scrambled eggs and toast.”
So he hadn’t cooked.
But someone else had. Someone she wasn’t mad at. Someone whose food she could eat.
She was mad at Anson? The realization startled her enough to bring her up
Or, well, she’d
un
-devised part of her plan. The whole point of her resolution had been to remove distraction and give herself the attention she’d normally pay to a relationship, so she could work on herself. Figure out what was wrong with her. Figure out what she wanted to do with her life. Traveling was getting old. She wanted to settle down, but she didn’t want to lose her ideals in order to build a life.
Tearing off Anson’s clothes and dragging him to bed wouldn’t change any of that. It wouldn’t solve her problems. It wouldn’t make them worse. If anything, it made her more acutely aware of the fact that they were waiting for her. And they would still be waiting for her when the skies cleared and the power came back on, and Anson was no longer stranded here with her.
“Or we could go to bed and be warm under the blankets. I brought my quilt, it’s really warm and snuggly.” Temptation lit his eyes, but was chased out by that deep scowl she’d come to loathe. “Or you could go to sleep by yourself and I will go spend time with Mira and the patient guests. She’s come down, by the way. You’ve got some free time to sleep if you want it. You look like you need it, and if you aren’t into chasing away demons for the next few hours in the manner we’d both enjoy, then you should sleep.”
She thought a second and added before he could protest, “Better now than when the storm clears and you have to go back out after Jude.”
“No argument here.” He untied his boots, kicked them off and stripped out of the suit as he walked to the bed.
Ellory watched until he was under the blankets in his thermals, at which point Max gave up his spot by the fire and went to curl up on Anson’s feet on top of the fluffy duvet.
After she spent some time making sure everyone got fed, she’d get some sleep too.
On the couch. She’d already made enough moves on the man. The next move was his.
*
Ellory awoke after a long night of lumpy sleep on the couch, burrowed beneath her quilt with her head propped on one of the cushions and Max panting in her face.
“Good that you woke up. I think Max was about to wash your face. With his tongue,” Anson said from where he sat, using her duffel stuffed with the snow suit from hell like a beanbag chair in front of the fire.
The dog’s tongue was exactly the last thing she wanted on her face this morning. But after the way the night had gone, and the fact that she was sleeping on the couch when she’d much rather have been sleeping beside big warm Anson...well, Ellory didn’t wake up feeling chipper.
Rolling over so she faced the couch back, she pulled the quilt over her head to block out the smell of dog mouth and ignored both of them.
When the power had gone out, Mira couldn’t be kept out of things any more, so in theory Ellory didn’t have anything to do this morning. No duties to perform, nothing to organize. And as guilty as it made her feel to be glad about that, she figured she’d probably handled things as well as she could for as long as she could. Two straight days of organizing and keeping everything under control was too much responsibility and decision-making for her.
Besides that, yesterday had felt like it had been weeks long.
And today still felt like yesterday, however that worked out.
The smell of food filtered through the quilt now that Max wasn’t breathing on her face. Eggs. He was making eggs somehow. Could you cook with gas logs?
She closed her eyes tighter and tried to ignore the scent.
Her stomach growled.
“The storm is still going.” Anson spoke again, apparently not satisfied with her attempt to cocoon herself away from all contact. “But the kitchen staff brought up breakfast. Scrambled eggs and toast.”
So he hadn’t cooked.
But someone else had. Someone she wasn’t mad at. Someone whose food she could eat.
She was mad at Anson? The realization startled her enough to bring her up
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