Declan unlocks the door to the cabin and holds it open so I can step in ahead of him.
“Ned said your bags were delivered,” he says as he turns off the alarm system. “We can check in your room and make sure they’re here.”
He leads me down the hallway to the guest suite.
As soon as we step inside the bedroom, I gasp.
Declan jerks his head toward me. “I hope you like it,” he says. “I wasn’t sure exactly what you liked, so I took my best shot.”
“I absolutely love it,” I say.
The room is beautifully decorated in tasteful Western-style. Two gorgeous paintings—one of the Rocky Mountains and the other of Yellowstone National Park—hang on the walls. The bed frame and headboard are made of light wood, and the bed is covered with a plush blue and green quilt and matching pillows. The wooden dresser matches the bed, and the two bedside tables with lamps in the shape of horses complete the picture.
My bags are sitting in the corner.
“Good,” he says. “If you’d like anything changed, just let me know.”
“Wait a second.” I turn to face him. “Did you have all this decorated for me?”
His cheeks redden in that same adorable way they did earlier when I first saw the reception tent. “I wasn’t sure what style you would prefer,” he says. “But I know you love Montana, and you told me about your horse.”
“That is so sweet,” I murmur. “Thank you for doing all of this.”
“It’s the least I can do. I feel bad that you have to move out of your apartment for a year. I just want you to be comfortable here.”
I step closer to him and put my hand on his muscular arm. His bicep flexes involuntarily at my touch.
“This is a win-win, remember?” I say to him. “I’m getting just as much out of this as you are.”
The heat from his arm seeps into my palm, and I jerk my hand back as an electric current zips between us.
Ask him about the kiss.
But I don’t want to know the answer if it’s not the response I’m hoping for.
“So.” My voice is too loud for the quiet room. “The wedding night, huh?”
He smirks. “Right. Not awkward at all.”
We look at each other and start laughing.
It breaks some of the tension, and Declan’s shoulders noticeably relax.
“Come on, and I’ll show you the rest of the cabin,” he says.
He walks into the attached bathroom and points out the towels and linens on the shelves. Then, we head into the kitchen, where he gives me a quick tour, showing me where the plates, glasses, and utensils are stored.
“Feel free to rearrange anything you want,” he says. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Water’s fine.” If I have alcohol, I may jump him. I’m having a hard enough time controlling myself as it is. No sense in getting more uninhibited.
And jumping Declan wouldn’t be a good start to this marriage—because that would mean I’d be blowing our agreement right off the bat.
We take seats across from one another with me on the couch and Declan in the armchair.
“I think I mentioned that I’ve got a road trip coming up tomorrow,” he says. “I’ll be gone for the week.”
“Oh!” I completely forgot how much he said he travels. “Thanks for the reminder.”
