“Could we go upstairs and sleep together—actually sleep?” He smiled bigger, all teasing. “Firefighter Hanwell, are you proposing that we snuggle?” I gave a barely-there smile of my own. “I guess that’s one way to describe it.” “I’ll take anything. I’d sleep on a bed of nails to be next to you.” I turned and started pulling him toward the house. “That’s actually perfect, because my bed is made of nails.” “Sold,” he said. “I’m in.”
