“What room?” Claire asked.
“1801. End of the hall.”
“Suite?” she repeated.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jaxon replied, glancing over his shoulder. “Concierge said it overlooks the city.”
He scanned the keycard. The door clicked open.
Claire stepped inside, then froze.
“Okay… wow. You weren’t kidding. This suite is… sweet.”
Jaxon burst out laughing. “You’ve been waiting to say that since the elevator.”
“Maybe,” she said with a grin, “but I’m not wrong.”
The suite unfolded like a high-end apartment—modern, sleek, dripping in quiet opulence. Off the entryway was a sitting area with soft lighting and mid-century furniture. The kitchen gleamed with granite counters and stainless steel. Marble tile ran from the door all the way to the living room, wherefloor-to-ceiling windows opened onto a private balcony. Beyond the French doors was the bedroom—oversized king bed, thick white comforter, and another set of windows bathing the room in gold.
The bathroom was just as insane. Black stone. Brass fixtures. A soaking tub deep enough to forget your name in.
Claire wandered through like she was afraid to touch anything.
“This place is somewhere you stay for a honeymoon,” she said softly.
“I know,” Jaxon replied. “I’ve told them I don’t need all this... but they book it anyway.”
Claire turned back to him, something quieter flickering in her eyes.
“Still... it’s beautiful.”
Jaxon didn’t answer right away. He just watched her, suitcase still in his hand, like maybe he didn’t care about the room at all.
Maybe all he saw was her—standing barefoot on a tile floor that glowed beneath her, with wonder still clinging to her smile.
28
Bath Fantasy
Thegirlsweresettlinginto Jaxon’s house like they’d been there for weeks.
The new clothes they bought were spinning in a quick wash cycle, the salty residue of the day already being rinsed away. While they waited, Sara stretched her arms over her head and let out a long sigh.
“I’ve got sand in places I don’t want to have sand. I’m claiming the bathtub.”
“Why do you get the bathtub?” Macie challenged.
“Because Jax said I could when I joked about it earlier. It was a verbal agreement, and I’m cashing in.”
“I’m guessing that’s where you’re sleeping, too?”
Sara shrugged as she headed up the stairs. “I don’t care where I sleep. I just want the bath.”
She pushed open the bedroom door and stepped inside—immediately met with the unmistakable scent of him.
That signature cologne. Warm, masculine, woodsy.
It clung to the air like a ghost of something she hadn’t earned.
