“Yes indeed.” Mrs. Harrison gestures to the right. “Second doorway, the room with the giant bookshelf and a small bar. Feel free to move the chairs and tables around however you like. Cooper always keeps a small fire going in there, so you’ll be cozy.”
She smiles warmly at me. “We walk by often, and if you have your nose in a book, we won’t disturb you. There’s a selection of whisky in the bar, and if you need coffee, tea, wine, or anything else, just holler.”
“Thank you.” I return her smile. “That sounds perfect.”
As we turn toward the stairs, it hits me that Devin and I are going to be sharing a room. Somehow, I've managed to ignore that part. Am I nervous? Kind of. I get the impression that Devinwill do everything he can to make sure I’m comfortable, but I tend to be nervous about new things in general.
And sleeping in the same room…the samebed…as a gorgeous, hot man is definitely new.
I carry my shoulder bag as Devin takes the rest of our luggage up, then unlocks the door. His palm briefly skims along my lower back as he leans down to murmur in my ear, "I feel like I should be carrying you over the threshold."
A quick glance up and down the hallway confirms we’re alone. Still, I tap his bicep. "That's wedding nights, silly."
We enter the room and slide our luggage out of the way. The room is old-fashioned and elegant, with heavy wooden furniture and charming ivy-patterned curtains. There’s even an arrangement of pink roses in an antique glass vase on the dresser.
"That fireplace works, apparently," Devin says, nodding to the firewood stacked neatly by the grate. "If we get sick of the social events, we can say that we don't have a fireplace at home and want to make the most of this one."
"Good idea."
He slips his arm around my waist, and my head falls against his chest so naturally it's as if we've made these exact motions hundreds of times.
"I really can't thank you enough for doing this, Laila. If anything makes you feel awkward, please don't hesitate to say so."
My chin tips up and I smile. “"The same goes for you. If anyone corners you in a boring work conversation, feel free to use me as an excuse to escape."
The heel of his palm runs small circles around my lower back. "Maybe I have to get you a glass of water immediately, because you sometimes faint if you don't stay hydrated enough."
I nod. "Or too much bright light sometimes gives me a headache, since I read so much. I'll play along with anything you like."
I might imagine it, but the corners of his jaw seem to tense up a bit.
“Showtime. Cocktails in the dining room. Shall we?” he asks.
"Sure."
A few minutes later, we’re being handed goblets of frothy pink liquid. I take a sip, then nod. “Mmm. Fizzy raspberry wine coolers. I’m so glad these are back in fashion.”
Devin takes an experimental taste, followed by a larger gulp. "You're right. These are fantastic."
We look around to where most of the men are gravitating toward the bar, chatting about various scotches and whiskeys. The women, meanwhile, are clustered near the huge window, chatting and admiring the faint dusting of fresh snow that is beginning to fall.
A tall, elegant woman turns to Devin. "I'm so glad you were able to make it. And this must be your wife?"
Devin's ankle taps mine, and I nod. "Hello, I'm Laila." I shake her hand warmly. "I’m guessing you’re Callan. I've heard so much about you and Jim."
Her eyes light up. Then she waves to a man who returns the gesture, a glass of whiskey in his hand. "That's my Jim," she says to me. Then she lifts a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Devin. “You're not a whiskey man?"
He shrugs, grinning. "I'll try a bit of everything. Honestly, these raspberry sparkles are quite refreshing after a few hours in a car."
Callan looks back and forth between us for a moment, reading our body language. Maybe we’re a bit stiff or standing too far apart for her taste.
Devin catches it too, and glances at me for help. I quickly reach out and give his perfectly sculpted ass a light smack. “He always complains that too many hours in the car flatten his butt. Maybe after a couple of these fizzy drinks, he'll start dancing and shake it out."
Callan laughs so loudly that Jim's head snaps around in surprise. Devin slips an arm around me, nuzzling my ear. "Now, baby, my coworkers don't need to see how you keep me in line."
The heat of his body against mine makes my heart flutter. Then my stomach. Then… lower. If this innocent touch sends me spiraling, it’s going to be one heck of a weekend.
Callan laughs even harder. I feel like I've scored major points, not just with her, but with Devin. I don't know why, but I feel like I'm breaking out of my shell with him. I feel free to say and do anything, and my usual shyness is fading away in his presence.
