“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into my neck. “I don’t know why I’m so wiped out.”
I do, but I’m not about to give her the field manual on the crippling aftereffects of a panic attack. “It’s fine. Just rest. Everything’s fine now.”
Or at least I think it is until we mount the porch steps, and I see Ellis Castle’s pale face on the other side of the door. He looks nearly as wrecked as Lily, his hair hanging in his eyes, which are glassy with distress. When he zones in on Lily, I’ve seen more devastated looks from Bloomer when confronted by his empty kibble bowl.
“Lily. Are you okay? I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help.” He pauses, like he’s waiting for Lily to reassure him, but she curls tighter against my chest, and he rubs helplessly at the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have left you at the coffee shop,” he mutters, his scent like burned caramel as he stares at her averted face. “I didn’twantto, obviously, but I had to make a call. Another thing I fucked up, to be honest, and then my agent said she’s flying out, which is a whole other drama…”
I give him a slight nudge with my shoulder, both to shut him up and get us through the damn doorway. “How about we save the apologies for tomorrow?” I suggest, stepping into thehallway and looking around. “You got a spare room in this place, or should we grab the couch?”
“No!” he exclaims, looking even more flustered. “I mean, you’re welcome to the couch, but of course we have a spare room. A suite, in fact, for all three of you…”
“Is it haunted?” Leo asks, peeking around me with a ghoulish gleam in his eyes. “If it’s in the tower part, can I sleep in Joey the Wrench’s bed? They say that on a full moon, you can see his headless body smoking his cigar from the bedroom window.”
Ellis’ expression hovers somewhere between rapture and alarm as he stares down at Leo’s glowing face. “Joey who now?”
“Original owner,” I explain, trying to cut the gory details of his decapitation off at the neck – so to speak. “He was a mobster out of Chicago. You can hear all about it tomorrow, too.”
I give them both a pointed look and Ellis must take the hint, because he quickly backs towards a huge carved staircase. “The suite is on the next floor, so you can use the service elevator if it’s easier.”
I give that comment the derisive grunt it deserves, herding Leo ahead of me as I start up the stairs with Ellis on our heels. The place smells like wood polish and peppermint, and I feel some of my tension ease when Tristan meets us on the landing. He gives Lily one of his sweet smiles, then rests a hand on Leo’s shoulder as he leads us to the suite door. “We thought you might like this one, since the rooms are connected by the bathroom.” His kind eyes lift to my face. “Why don’t Ellis and I help Leo unpack while you both settle in?”
I give him a grateful nod, and when Lily doesn’t object, I carry her over the threshold of the fanciest room I’ve ever been in. It still has a whisper of the gothic about it with the dark floorboards and heavy furniture, but the four-poster bed is decked out in crisp white linen and tasseled pillows, and the chandelier casts a soft glow over the pale blue silk walls. To topit off, a framed picture of me, Lily, and Leo is propped on the dresser next to a vase of lilies. “Nice place,” I murmur as I settle Lily on the edge of the bed. “Ghosts aside, you think you’ll be able to get some rest?”
She barely looks around the room before she kicks off her shoes and scoots back against the pillows, her gaze fixed on me. “Well, that depends on what you plan to do to tire me out.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN – LILY
It’s not often that I take Logan by surprise, but he greets my challenge with a startled grunt. “Ah, well I was thinking a backrub and a warm glass of milk, but it sounds like you have other ideas.”
“I do,” I say softly, “and as soon as I get Leo down to sleep, I plan to list them in great detail.”
I’m only half joking, because the seduction of Logan Sawyer is something I’ve spent a lot of hours contemplating. But before I can lure him into the blissful cocoon of fresh sheets and silk cushions, he gives me a heated look and runs his hand over his jaw. “Okay. But you rest while I check on Leo.” I start to object – getting Mom duties out of the way is always part of any great seduction plan – but Logan is already heading towards the bathroom door. “Based on the way he was jetting on all cylinders, he’ll probably be out before his head hits the pillow.”
“Unless he managed to track down the headless mobster,” I sigh, sinking back onto my elbows. “Then we could be in for alongnight.”
Logan just chuckles as he disappears into the ensuite, and I sink back further, flapping a hand over my warm face. I’d like to pretend that my blush is just anticipation for the night ahead, but I can’t stop my gaze from drifting to the mahogany dresser. The framed picture is a nice touch, but I’m not sure what message they’re trying to send with the flowers. Is this another apology? Ellis sounded distraught downstairs, but I wasn’t in the right headspace to hear his excuses. The logical part of my brain doesn’t blame him for what happened back at the farm, but in the recesses of my less rational brain, I can’t quite get past the fact that by turning up in Knotty Falls, he’s turned my life upside down.
“Hey.” I sit up abruptly as Tristan appears in the doorway, a silver tray in his hands. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, thanks,” I reply, brushing a rueful hand over my messy curls. On Tristan, the rumpled look is mouthwatering, but I feel like I’ve been dragged backwards through a particularly aggressive prickly ash bush. Not that my grooming standards are on anyone’s mind after the infamous Chocolate Balloon Meltdown. “Is Leo prowling the halls, or did you manage to wrangle him into bed?”
“Logan and Ellis have it handled.” I raise a curious brow, and he grins. “Last I saw, they were employing promises of blueberry pancakes for breakfast with great effect.”
I snort, but my eyes grow wider as he brings the tray over to the nightstand and I inhale the scent of sugar and creamy sauce. “Ot put some food together,” he tells me as he drapes a linen napkin over my lap, “but you don’t have to eat if you’re not feeling up to it.”
I examine the plate of creamy risotto, along with a slice of succulent strawberry shortcake, and a glass of homemade sweet tea, and wonder what other skills Otley James has up his perfectly pressed sleeves. “Wow. This looks amazing.”
Tristan makes a happy humming sound and hands me the glass of tea, hovering at my side until I pat the bed. He quickly settles beside me, his smile growing as I take my first mouthful of the creamy risotto, and a soft moan slips from my lips. “Oh, that’s really delicious. Did Otley make this?”
Tristan sniggers. “Given his fussy palate, you’d think he’d be a Michelin chef, but his contribution to Lexington’s is more on the financial side.”
“Lexington’s?”
“A restaurant in Pacific Heights.”
“As inSan Francisco?” My fork hits the tray with a clatter. “You mean hetruckedthis meal here?”
He dips his head, but not before I see a slight blush staining his cheeks. “Um. It was actually flown in on his company jet.”
