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Chapter Sixteen
Ariella
The film had taken a pause. Without the lead actress, there wasn’t much that could be done.
That was fine with me. I wasn’t in the mood to work.
I wanted to curl up on the sofa with a carton of mint chocolate chip and eat away my feelings.
Jaxson stalked over toward me. He’d been watching me all day.
Mostly I was grateful for the concern but sometimes I just wanted my space too.
“I just got a text from Lincoln. He found Harper, and she’s heading downriver,” Jaxson said.
I didn’t understand what he meant. “Downriver?” I hadn’t lived in Breckenridge that long. I’d survived the winter, that was about it. Did we need to intervene? “Should we head out there and help?”
It didn’t appear that filming would resume anytime soon.
“I think Lincoln’s got this one handled. Harper’s gone rafting, and he’s the best guide I know,” Jaxson said.
“Oh.” That sounded kind of fun. “Maybe we should do that sometime? The three of us?” I suggested.
“The three of us,” Jaxson repeated slowly. Was he trying to figure out who the third person I invited along with us? It wasn’t Lincoln.
“Yes, it’d be nice to do something with you and Izzie.” I liked spending time with them.
Was that a bad idea?
Did Jaxson have commitment issues?
We hadn’t exactly told anyone about our relationship.
I wasn’t looking for another husband. One had been enough, but I did want more with Jaxson.
He wasn’t just a fling.
“You’re quiet,” Jaxson said.
“Just thinking.”
“Uh oh,” he teased and nudged me. “That can’t be good.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed his arms, pinning them behind his back, my body pressed tight against his. I leaned up on my tiptoes to reach his ears. “Any chance you have handcuffs around here.”
I needed to forget, to push the fear that crept in at night and held me hostage.
Jaxson raised an eyebrow. “Maybe, but they wouldn’t be for me, Freckles.”
I gulped and stared up into his calm blue eyes. He caught me off guard. I never expected him to admit that he had handcuffs. What else did he have or was it strictly for business sake? He was former military and he worked security, but I’d never so much as seen his metal cuffs.
“You’re blushing,” Jaxson whispered into my ear.
My grip on his wrists wasn’t that strong, and he broke free.
Grabbing my wrists, he spun me around, my hands pinned at my back, his body pressed against mine. With one hand, he held me tight, and with the other, he brushed the hair to one side of my neck, his breath caressing my skin.
“Have you ever used handcuffs in the bedroom?” he asked.