CHAPTER 54
Frost stretched out on the couch. It was a little too short to accommodate his entire length, so he let his feet hang over the edge, flexing and relaxing his toes in a lazy rhythm. The hideous orange and yellow plaid fabric of the couch was rough and scratchy against the backs of his bare arms as he lay slightly propped so he could watch Jamieson working in the kitchen.
The sight of her stirring something in a pan while the soft autumn light from the window over the sink outlined her appealing figure felt a lot like a dream to him. But the cheap hotel with kitchenette they’d rented was less than idyllic. Peeling linoleum stretched side by side with a thin, obnoxious carpet, forming the shabby floor, scraped and scarred by the passing feet of a thousand former guests. Heat esca
