The Right Bed?: Your Bed or Mine?. Kate Hoffmann

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The Right Bed?: Your Bed or Mine? - Kate  Hoffmann


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inside the summer kitchen and a few minutes later, they tossed their jackets, pants and shoes out onto the porch. Caley gave Jake an optimistic smile. “That didn’t go so badly.”

      “Maybe we should wait around for a little while just to make sure they don’t kill each other.”

      “Good idea.”

      Jake grabbed her hand and they walked back to the main house. He opened the front door and she walked inside. Caley looked at the house differently now that she knew it was Jake’s home. She could imagine herself there on a warm summer day, all the windows thrown open to catch the breeze. The birds would sing from the trees and at night the leaves would rustle. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent, determined to remember it.

      “I love this place. I can just imagine what it was like years ago, without television and speedboats and electricity. It must have been so relaxing to live that way. To just slow down and let life happen.”

      “I’ve thought about restoring the place to its original state,” Jake said, stepping behind her and slipping his arms around her waist.

      His touch sent her pulse racing and she leaned back against him and smiled. “Really? You could live like that?”

      “I wouldn’t take out the electricity and the plumbing. I think the lack of conveniences might wear a little thin, especially in the middle of winter. I’d be chopping firewood twenty-four hours a day just to stay warm. But it would be all right to just turn it all off.”

      “Maybe for a day. But I really like a hot shower in the morning.”

      He rested his chin on her shoulder. “What happened to your sense of adventure? You’ve gotten to be very high maintenance, haven’t you?”

      Caley turned in his arms. “I’m still adventurous. And there are things you can do in a shower that you can’t do washing up in the sink.”

      He growled softly, remembering their late-night lovemaking. “Yeah, I can see that. But skinny-dipping in the lake could be lots of fun, too.”

      “So what are we going to do here? We gave Sam and Emma the only bed.”

      Jake kissed her neck. “I was going to go up to the attic and look for the doors to the sun porch,” he said. “Or we can find something more interesting to do. The grease trap in the sink needs to be cleaned. And I think there’s a dead mouse in the linen closet.”

      “Let’s go up in the attic,” Caley said.

      “There may be spiders. Or bats.”

      “It’ll be an adventure,” she teased.

      Jake fetched a flashlight from the kitchen and they walked to the rear bedroom. He opened a door to reveal a stairway. They’d explored every inch of this house when they were kids, but Caley didn’t remember ever venturing into the attic. “Have you been up here?”

      “A couple of times,” he said. “Watch out. The stairs are steep. You go first.”

      Caley stared up into the dark attic and shook her head. “You go first.”

      “You’re the adventurous one.”

      “It’s your house.”

      “I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you go first.”

      Caley rolled her eyes. “What a baby you are.” She squinted up into the darkness. “What are you looking for?”

      “Doors. There should be two doors that used to hang in the entrances to the solarium. The doors that are there are too new. They have beveled glass windows, which isn’t something that Durant would have chosen. I’m hoping the originals are up there.”

      The attic wasn’t nearly as bad as Caley thought it would be. Though everything was covered with a thick coating of dust, it was tidy and snug. “I wonder what’s in these trunks.”

      Jake shrugged. “Probably something creepy.”

      “Like what? A dead body?” Caley knelt down on the floor. “Hold the flashlight on this latch,” she said.

      “The doors won’t be in there. They’re huge.”

      “I know. But aren’t you curious as to what’s in here? It might be something interesting.” Caley tugged at the latch and it flipped open. “If there’s a skeleton in here, I’m going to scream.”

      “So am I,” Jake said.

      But when Caley opened the trunk, she found it filled with bundles of letters and greeting cards, old gramophone records and books. She pulled out one of the books and flipped through it. “It’s a journal,” she said. She grabbed a bigger book and found photographs inside. Caley handed it to Jake, then glanced around the attic. “Is there a gramophone up here?”

      Jake scanned the room with the flashlight, letting it come to rest on a covered silhouette on a table. “I think that’s it. Can we look for my doors?”

      “This is more interesting than your doors,” she said. Caley pointed to the far wall. “Is that them?”

      Jake grinned. “I think so. Come on, let’s see if we can get them downstairs.”

      “Forget the doors right now.” She walked around the chest. “If you pick up that end, I bet we could get it downstairs.”

      They wrestled the trunk to the stairway and maneuvered it around the old wooden banister. But as they began to take it down the steep stairs, Caley lost her grip. The leather handle had deteriorated with age and it broke; the trunk slammed down on her toes.

      “Ow! Oh, that hurts. Pull it down.”

      Jake let the trunk slide to the bottom of the stairs, then climbed up to where she stood. “What’s wrong?”

      “It smashed my toe. Ow.” Her eyes watered and she wriggled on her good foot, afraid to put weight on the other.

      Jake stared at the toe of her boot with the flashlight, then cursed softly. “Come on. I think I have some first-aid stuff in the kitchen.”

      He helped her down the stairs, Caley limping and wincing against the pain. Then Jake scooped her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way, setting her down on the counter in the kitchen. “I’d forgotten what a klutz you could be.”

      “I’m not,” she said. “I’m very graceful.”

      “I remember the time you were walking down the dock in that little flowered dress and those high-heeled shoes.” He pulled off her boot and tossed it aside. “You got your heel caught in between the boards and went over the edge into the water. I had to jump in and fish you out.”

      “I was mortified,” Caley said. “I wanted you to look at me and think I was hot. Instead, I looked like a drowned rat.”

      “Maybe so, but when that dress got wet, you could see right through it. And you weren’t wearing a bra. I did think you looked really hot.”

      She pulled her foot out of his hand and tugged off her sock. Her toenail had already begun to turn black. “Kiss it,” she said, wiggling her toes in front of him.

      Jake smiled, taking her foot in his hand and slowly massaging it. “Will that make it feel better?”

      “Maybe. I’ve always wanted you to kiss my feet,” she said, daring him to do as she asked.

      Jake knelt down in front of her and pressed his lips to her ankle. It didn’t take long for Caley to realize that he was turning her little game into a full-out seduction. He kissed each toe, then ran his tongue along her instep.

      When he began to suck on her toes, Caley closed her eyes and leaned back. No man had ever done this for her. She hadn’t realized that the foot was an erogenous zone. “Oh,” she said.

      “Do you like that?” he asked.

      “Yes,”


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