With Jane though, it was different. I couldn’t help myself from seeking out the opportunity to touch her however I could get it, and right now, these silly, adolescent grazes were all I could have.
“Thank you,” she said softly once I’d hung up her coat on a hook next to the grand staircase that curved upward from the entry hall.
By the time I got back to the living room, Jane had her arms wrapped around herself, just standing quietly in front of the fire as she looked around the room. The furniture was heavy and intentional, plush sofas, carved side tables, and layered rugs that muffled sound and made everything feel intimate despite the scale.
“Is it too much?” I asked, sliding my hands into my pockets as I watched her. “The house, I mean. I know it’s big, but?—”
“It’s perfect.” She smiled, arms releasing to slide back to her sides as she angled her body toward the flickering flames. “Seriously, Alex. It’s amazing. You really didn’t have to get a place like this just so we could go to a party, though.”
“It was available.” I shrugged just as my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I ignored it at first, but when it buzzed again, insistently, I pulled it out to see a notification waiting on the screen.
SEVERE WEATHER ALERT: BLIZZARD CONDITIONS. TRAVEL DISCOURAGED.
Sighing as I read it, I finally turned the screen to show her. “Well, I’m glad you like it, because it looks like we might not be leaving for a while.”
Her eyebrows lifted, a slow smile ghosting across her lips when her gaze came back up to mine. “I guess it’s a good thing you booked for the whole weekend.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking. We’re all paid up through Monday.” I inhaled a deep breath, desperately trying to keep my mind from wandering to all the things we might do to keep ourselves busy while we were snowed in together. “Do you want to go get comfortable and then have a drink?”
“That sounds good.” She glanced down at the golden dress that had been responsible for driving me halfway out of my mind all night long. “This isn’t exactly appropriate attire for a blizzard.”
I bit back a laugh. “It was perfect for the party, though. Unlike me, you fit right in.”
“Did you really want to fit in with people who pay that much money for art that looks like emotional tax write-offs?”
I laughed as we headed upstairs together, our footsteps soft on thick carpet. “Hey,wenowownone of those emotional tax write-offs.”
At the top of the stairs, the hallway split and she turned toward the room she’d taken on the left. “Youown one of those emotional tax write-offs. Don’t drag me into it. I’m innocent.”
I groaned. “So innocent, you couldn’t even ride in like a goddess on a white horse to save me from overbearing artists?”
She held my gaze across the few feet of distance between us, just looking into my eyes for a moment before she smiled. “I figured you had it covered. You’re a big tough dude with a big tough checkbook. You were fine.”
No comment on calling you a goddess, huh? Is it because you think it’s not true, or because you don’t want to go there with me?
Instead of asking, I just sighed and started backing to my room. “Not even my checkbook is tough enough to handle another party like that. Next time, you’llhaveto save me. I’ll meet you back downstairs in a few?”
She chuckled. “I doubt there’s anything your checkbook can’t handle, but it’s cute that you keep trying to be modest about it. Go get warm, Alex. I’ll join you downstairs in a moment.”
As I nodded, she disappeared into her room and I spun, heading for my own and changing quickly into a pair of sweats and an old college hoodie. When I was done, I took the stairs down two at a time and poured our drinks at the bar off the sitting room.
I carried the glasses to the coffee table in front of the fire, sitting down with my drink in my hand and staring at the flamesuntil I heard her come down. Dressed in a pair of sweats and an oversized hoodie now herself, her makeup was gone and her dark blonde hair was piled in a messy knot on top of her head.
“This is much better,” she said, flopping down on the couch beside me and glancing at the drink when I handed it over. “Bourbon?”
“The type that’s old enough to have its own kids by now.”
She took it from me, slowly moving it to her lips and taking a sip. Her eyelids fluttered shut, her head dropping back just a fraction as she swallowed. “Wow, that’s good.”
“It’s definitely better than the blue whiskey that fooled me into thinking that buying that painting was a good idea.”
Jane laughed as she thought back to my purchase. She wiped tears from under her eyes. “I still can’t believe you bought that.”
“Neither can I. I’ll never drink blue whiskey again for as long as I live.”
“Is that really what made you do it?”
