Even if they had a donkey and three wise men trailing them with offerings of gold, frankincense and myrrh, she doubted there’d be a stable to spare.
He sighed as he dropped his bag to the floor with athunk. ‘Yeah. Okay, maybe not.’
She shouldn’t have come. The volcano had stopped erupting yesterday, this time—according to seismologists—for the foreseeable future. And Sweeneyhadcontemplated not joining the team at the Gold Coast. But the second she’d floated the idea of not travelling with them, everyone had been horrified.
They’d insisted she come, wanting her there to finish the Banshees’ pictorial journey she’d started and, when they’d presented her with her own jersey a few days ago, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stay home. And also, there was a tiny, crazy, unchecked part of her thatwantedto be here.
Not just for the photography. But because she’d become as invested in the team as Fin. She knew all the kids and the parents and she swore, as each day passed, she felt Michael Murphy’s presence on that field, watching over it all.
Looking at that big bed, though, Sweeney wished she’d jumped all over that crazy unchecked part and flattened it into thousands of tiny pieces.
‘Okay.’ He nodded at the bed, as if he’d come to a decision. Shoving his hands on his hips he said, ‘Top or tail? Pillow wall? Or under and over?’
His expression was set—grimly determined. So different to the guy who’d caused a kick in her pulse when he’d laughingly kissed her hand at Murphy’s last Friday night. It had been such a fun night and she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.
Until now. Stuck in thisverydifferent night, a giant bed staring them down. The only way Sweeney could think to handle it was through humour and pragmatism.
‘What?’ She pressed her hand to her chest as if clutching invisible pearls. ‘You’re not going to do the gallant thing and offer to sleep on the floor?’
His gaze dropped to the family-friendly butveryhard tiles on the floor. So did Sweeney’s. Then she glanced around the rest of the room, which didn’t even contain a comfy lounge chair. Just two plastic seats pushed under a small round table in the far corner.
He shook his head. ‘Nope.’
Hmm, okay. Humour hadn’t worked, maybe pragmatism would. Sweeney hitched the strap of her camera bag up her shoulder as she wrapped her fingers around the handle of her carry-on and pushed it towards the bed. ‘Which side do you want?’
When she didn’t get an answer she glanced over her shoulder to find him standing in the same spot, looking at the bed with an expression she couldn’t quite interpret.
Apprehension? Trepidation? Indigestion?
‘Fin.’ He dragged his eyes off the coverlet and met her gaze. ‘It’ll be fine. We’re both adults and the bed is huge. We could probably both lie on it spreadeagled and not touch each other.’ Although the thought ofthatdarted a shiver up her spine. ‘Frankly,’ she continued, ignoring the shiver, ‘I’m so damn tired right now I’d share this bed with a nest of giant huntsman spiders if I had to. I’m having a shower and hitting the sack.’
Sweeney didn’t wait for him to reply or move, she just picked a side—the far one—and threw her bags on the coverlet. By the time she’d unzipped and pulled out her PJs and toiletry bag, Fin had claimed his side. Not looking his way, she grabbed one of the neatly folded towels off the end of the bed and headed for the bathroom.
Standing under the steaming hot needles of water, Sweeney didn’t let herself think about Fin and that bed waiting for her outside. She kept her mind full of other things. The game schedule with a map of the playing fields—only a ten-minute walk from their hotel—Mai had emailed everyone. The nearby coffee shops and restaurants she’d researched on the flight because she was sure as hell going to need something strong tomorrow morning when she woke up beside Fin, who had kissed her hand and danced with her at Murphy’s.
Nope! No way.Sweeney flicked off the taps. She was not going to think about Fin kissing any part of her body while she was naked in the shower and he was outside doing and thinking god knew what.
Five minutes later she emerged from the bathroom smelling all soapy and minty-breathed to find him sitting on his side of the bed, his back supported by the faux velvet bedhead. The room was cooler and the overhead lights had been turned out in favour of the lamps sitting on the tables either side.
He was flicking through a bunch of papers on a clipboard that Mai had handed him, his long denim-clad legs stretched out in front of him, his shoes and socks discarded on the floor. Sweeney didn’t know what it was about his bare feet that caused such a ruction in an area of her body that had no business making any kind of ruction, they just did.
The man looked so damn… casual right now. The wholescenewas casual. Like they did this every night, and the thought of it almost caused her to stumble.
‘Water hot?’ he asked as she scooted to her side of the bed. She was dressed in the same pyjamas she’d been wearing around the house in Ballyshannon but, now she was climbing into bed with him, they felt as skimpy as anything on a Victoria’s Secret runway.
‘Yep,’ she said, not looking at him as she stuffed the clothes she’d been wearing into the wash bag she’d packed before zipping up her carry-on and transferring both it and the camera bag to the floor, pushing them under the bed with her foot.
‘Pressure?’
‘Amazing,’ she confirmed as she pulled back the covers that had been tightly tucked, the white sheets crisp beneath her fingers.
Sliding beneath the covers, she quickly pulled the band from her shower up-do, her hair tumbling down. Rolling on her side, she reached over to snap off her lamp. ‘Night,’ she said as her side of the room went dark and she made a show of snuggling into her pillows.
There was a long pause during which Sweeney didn’t breathe before his murmured, ‘Good night,’ drifted her way.
Still, it wasn’t until he finally headed to the shower about ten minutes later that Sweeney finally relaxed. So much for beingan adult. She might have told herself sharing a bed was going to be no big deal but, clearly, she’d had no clue what she’d been talking about.
It washard.
