In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes (The Queen’s Cove Series Book 3)
In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes: Chapter 40

HOLDEN BURST in the front door of Avery and Emmett’s home. His eyes found me sitting in front of the fireplace. My headphones were still in. He had called me from the road, and insisted I stay on the call while I dozed.

He breathed a sigh of relief before stalking over. I stood and he pulled me into his chest, squeezing the life out of me.

“Honey,” he rasped into my hair. “Baby. I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” I breathed against his chest, closing my eyes.

It was so nice to have him back. My arms wrapped around his waist under his parka and smoothed over his t-shirt. I sighed into him.

“I should have called the arborist weeks ago and I forgot.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” I inhaled his scent and shivered at how good he smelled. “You smell better than I remember.”

“How’s your arm?”

I untangled it from around his waist to show him the bandage Dr. Beck Kingston, a friend of Emmett and Avery’s, had applied in Avery and Emmett’s kitchen.

His eyes searched mine. “Does it hurt?”

“A little.”

He frowned. His jaw was so tight, and I reached up to brush my fingers over the tense muscles.

“Relax,” I whispered. “I’m okay. Everything is fine.”

His chest heaven for air and his eyes flickered with uncertainty. “You could have been injured.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

I tangled my fingers into the back of his hair. “Will you shut up and kiss me already?”

His mouth covered mine and I felt his frustration, worry, and hunger as he took my mouth like he needed it to live. He stroked my tongue with his and I sighed into him. His hands framed my jaw and he tilted me open, devouring me.

There was a noise at the hallway and Emmett appeared, squinting from the light.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “Did we wake you up?”

He smiled. “It’s fine. Wanted to make sure Holden got back okay.”

Holden straightened up. “Thanks for picking her up. I’m going to take her to my place.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

Emmett shrugged and turned. “Okay. Goodnight, you two.” He disappeared down the hall with a wave.

“I don’t think I should stay at your place,” I whispered to Holden.

He glared at me. “I’m not asking. You can’t stay at the inn. It isn’t safe.”

I chewed my lip. Sparks popped and fizzed in my chest in anticipation. By going to his home, I sunk one inch deeper into Holden’s life, making it that much harder to claw myself out.

“My bag is already in their guest room.” I swallowed.

He scowled down at me. “No.”

I shivered at his firm, demanding tone.

I was curious about his place. Every time I brought it up, he changed the subject or said he had bad Wi-Fi.

“Fine,” I whispered, holding his heavy gaze. “But just for tonight.”

He shook his head. “Until the inn is fixed and the arborist checks every tree.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re so stubborn.”

He dropped a hard kiss onto my mouth before he pulled back to look into my eyes. “Yes, I am fucking stubborn, and the thought of you getting hurt makes me insane, so stop arguing, get your stuff, and get in the goddamn car so I can take care of you.”

This furious, bossy, protective version of Holden made me forget everything bad that had ever happened.

I nodded and bit my lip, and his gaze dropped to my mouth.

WE DROVE UP FURTHER into the mountains before he pulled into a driveway. A house sat among the trees, but it was too dark to make out any distinguishing features, and he hadn’t left any lights on.

Once we got out of the truck and jogged through the rain to the front door, I took in the modern log cabin architecture and large windows. He pushed the door open without unlocking it.

“You don’t lock your door either,” I pointed out.

His expression was wry as he followed me inside and flicked a light on.

“Oh.” My mouth dropped open and my gaze roamed the foyer. “Holden. This is quite nice.”

Wood floors stretched the length of the foyer, into the open concept living room with vault wood ceilings. Giant windows reached from floor to ceiling. He flipped another switch and the living room illuminated with warm light. The furniture was mid-century modern with some antique pieces from the early nineteen hundreds and modern accents. The seating area revolved around the TV, but a brick fireplace stole my attention. Built-in bookshelves towered along one wall, filled with books, picture frames, and a few decor knick-knacks.

A dark red rug with a Persian-style pattern spread over the living room floor, and a similar runner ran up the hall to what I assumed was the kitchen. Stairs led to bedrooms, I assumed. Beside us, a table held a couple books, a brown glass bowl, and a short lamp that had turned on when Holden had hit the switch beside the door.

Holden’s home was like him—warm, inviting, and incredibly cozy. Rich with character, glowing with love and affection.

And the paintings. From where I stood in the foyer, I spotted three. One in the foyer spanned most of the wall, splashes of greens and blues and browns, so similar in style to a famous local artist. Another down the hall to the kitchen, a modern piece with jarring shapes and colors that somehow still worked in the space because it matched the runner rug’s color palette. Another painting hung in the living room.

I gasped and pointed at it. “Holden, that’s the other painting, like the one in the gallery.”

On the canvas, a couple embraced, naked with faces buried in each other’s necks.

He watched me for a moment before he nodded. “That’s it.”

The intimacy of the piece captivated me, holding my gaze. He had this in his living room. He stared at it every day. I thought about him with his head buried between my legs and my core thrummed.

I sighed. “Your home is lovely. It’s like an old library.”

He dropped his keys, phone, and wallet into the bowl. “I’m in construction,” he said, as if that explained how his home had been so beautifully, carefully decorated. “Come on.”

He began up the stairs with my bag and I followed without a word, pausing to study the photos on the way up. Photos with his brothers. A teenage Holden with the same brooding expression, too young for stubble but with that thick, dark hair I loved to run my fingers through. A smile pulled at my mouth. Even as a teenager, he was a grouch. Holden’s gaze pinned me from the photo, simmering and brooding, and I swallowed.

He cleared his throat right behind me. He glanced to the photo I had been studying of him and his family before he tilted his chin up the stairs. “I put your stuff upstairs and I, uh,” his gaze cut to mine, “ran you a bath.”

I blinked at him. “I’m sorry. You what?”

He frowned deeper and his hand came to my elbow. “You’re shaking.”

My chest shook with shivers. My t-shirt, jeans, and socks were soaked. My hair stuck to the back of my neck.

He led me upstairs to the bathroom and something about it was familiar and comfortable. Like I lived there. Like we’d done this a hundred times. Something warm and longing shimmered through me.

I poked my head into the bathroom. Of course, it was beautiful as well. The standalone, modern tub shaped like a giant ceramic basin sat beneath a big window. No curtains or blinds or frosted glass, but his house was in the middle of the mountains so it was just the bears and raccoons peeping in. Dark amber tile decorated the floor. A bold choice.

Holden paused at the door, crossing his arms. The worry from earlier still lingered in his eyes. “I’ll be downstairs. Or you can go to bed if you’re tired.” He stepped into my space and lifted my hoodie over my head, and then my t-shirt. His eyes dropped to my bare chest and my nipples prickled. His mouth hitched and he leaned down to press a kiss against my jaw, hands sliding my pajamas down.

I stepped out of them when they hit the floor and my body thrummed with anticipation. He straightened up to look at me and I bit my lip.

“Not now,” he murmured, kissing me again. “Get in the bath. You’re freezing.”

Bubbles floated on the surface of the bath and I could smell cucumber. A bottle of body wash sat on the counter. My mouth tugged into a smile. This was probably all he had on hand.

Holden had noticed I was cold and ran me a bath. My throat closed up and tears stung my eyes.

“Honey,” his voice was soft like velvet. “What’s the matter?”

I couldn’t tell him no one had ever taken care of me like him. No one had driven three hours in the middle of the night or drawn me a bath or bought me a stupid raincoat I loved.

I couldn’t tell him. It would change things. It would mean something.

So I shook my head. “I’m just tired.”

He nodded. “Have a bath and then I’ll tuck you in.”

I laughed quietly. “Always taking care of me.”

“Mhm. Always.” He dropped another kiss on my cheek and left the room, closing the door behind him.

When I stepped into the tub, I let out an embarrassing moan. A moan similar to what had slipped out of my mouth when Holden and I were in my bedroom. The water was the perfect temperature, just a little too hot, and my cold feet stung. I sighed and slipped down until the water hit my hair. I pulled my hair tie out and tossed it onto the floor, closing my eyes and inhaling the clean cucumber scent.

Even with the bathroom fan on, I could hear rain still pounding on the roof. I traced the edges of the tub with my pointer finger, studying the small room.

There was so much more to Holden Rhodes, and I wanted to dig it all up, inspect the information piece by piece like I was collecting pretty rocks at the beach. Every rock I turned over, every new piece of information about Holden made me fall harder for him.

I shouldn’t be here, in his gorgeous home. Just like I shouldn’t have let him stay over. I couldn’t help myself, though.

Holden was special, and when it was time to go home, every piece of him I had collected would weigh me down, making it harder to leave.

For the first time, I wished I could stay.

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