Free Jilted: Promise Harbor, Book 1 by Kelly Jamieson Page A

the end of the movie, the champagne bottle was empty and upside down in the ice bucket. Her eyes were getting heavy, and she had to keep herself from resting her head on his shoulder and giving in to the urge to sleep.
    “Hey,” he said, nudging her, and she jumped. The movie was over. “Tired?”
    “Um. Yeah.” She blinked. “I better go to bed.”
    “Yeah. Come on.” He held out a hand and pulled her up off the couch. “I wonder if this bed is made up.” He yanked off the cushions, then frowned. “Hell. I thought this was a sofa bed.”
    “It’s not?” She peered down blearily. “Nope. It’s not.”
    “Ah well. I’ll just grab a pillow from the bed in the other room. Hopefully there’s an extra blanket around somewhere.”
    “You’re going to sleep on that couch?” She eyed it doubtfully. “It’s way too short for you. I’ll sleep there, Josh. I’m shorter than you.”
    “No. You take the bed.”
    She sighed. This was where she was supposed to offer to share the bed. It was king size, room for both of them. They could easily sleep there without ever touching. She’d read so many romance novels where this happened, but in romance novels, sharing that bed always led to sex. And the way she’d been feeling earlier, she didn’t have much faith in her own abilities to resist him if they climbed into that bed together, no matter how much space was between them.
    “Fine,” she said, ignoring the guilt that bumped inside her at the uncomfortable sleep he was going to have. Not her problem. She’d have that king-size bed with the beautiful, poufy duvet all to herself.
    She washed her face and changed into her pajamas in the bathroom, admiring the luxury of marble floor and counters, the huge Jacuzzi tub with separate, glassed-in shower stall, the thick towels. She emerged to see the lights out in the living room, Josh standing there in the firelight, tossing a pillow and blanket on to the couch, naked except for a pair of snug boxer briefs.
    Her stomach dropped and she hesitated, her heart bumping in her chest, her girl parts giving a warm squeeze. Oh Jeebus Crust, son of Gosh. She’d seen him naked many, many times, but holy hell, he was beautiful in the lamplight streaming through the bedroom doors. His shoulders were wide, his upper arms thick with rounded muscles, his chest and abs sculpted into mouthwatering ridges. “Um. Good night,” she said.
    He looked up at her. “G’night, Devon. I…uh…swept the flower petals off the bed.”
    She swallowed. “Thanks.” She turned toward the bedroom.
    “Devon?”
    She paused, afraid to turn around and look at him in case she totally lost it and charged across the room to jump him and lick him all over. “Yes?”
    “Thanks for coming with me. It would’ve sucked being alone here tonight.”
    She nodded, her throat tight. But he was going to be alone, alone on that couch, and she was going to be all alone in that big bed. “You’re welcome,” she managed to say, and then she scurried into the bedroom and closed the French doors behind her.
    Breathing rapidly, heart fluttering in her chest, she paused there, hands over her mouth.
    Oh man. She still wanted him. How wrong was that? Oh man.
    “ Would you take her back?” she’d asked Josh earlier of Allie. And he’d said, “ Maybe.”
    The wedding may be off, but he still loved her.
    She dropped her hands and lifted her chin. Okay. Okay. She’d done the right thing, to resist touching him. Kissing him. Sleeping with him. For a moment she’d been tempted to let down her guard, to reveal her feelings. Good thing she hadn’t. She could do this. She was there on Greenbush Island, just liked she’d wanted to be, with a beautiful hotel room to stay in at the very same inn where William Mudge was staying. She sort of needed Josh for that. But she didn’t need him for anything else. It was all good.
     
     
    Josh woke up early with the sun hitting his face through the balcony doors. There was