“Or we can stay here,” he said, propping himself against the wall. “And you can tell me why you suddenly don’t want to be alone in a car with me.”
She kept quiet, rolling the wire into a knot. In his pocket, his phone rang again.
He silenced it. Again.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Vivienne,” he said. “You know that, right?”
That seemed to jar her into motion, at least. She rolled out of bed, rising fluidly onto her toes and reaching for his hand, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist as she did. A string of pale pony beads snapped into place, the wordCRYBABYspelled out in neat black lettering. She set to work loosening the clasp of the silver band beside it. With a softclick, the chain came loose in her hands. She transferred it into his grasp, folding his fingers over the links. Her touch lingered, scalding through him.
“You don’t like the bracelet Philip gave me?”
Her flat amber stare rose to his.I like mine better.
“Then I’ll wear yours.”
It was the most amicable exchange they’d had in days, and it instantly loosened something inside his chest. Whatever she saw in his gaze caused her own to shutter. She stepped out from beneath him as he pocketed the chain.I should get ready.
“What if we blew off the party,” he said, without thinking. “We could stay here.”
She looked startled by the suggestion.And do what?
“Uh, well, whatever you want. Personally, I was thinking we could sit on the couch and do nothing.”
She considered him sideways, thinking it over. The lack of an outright dismissal loosened the knot still further. Finally, she signed,It’s Shark Week.
He grinned. “Best week in television, if you ask me.”
She bit down on her lip to keep from smiling.Your tie looks terrible.
“Yeah.” He gave a short laugh. “Philip should have given me a clip-on.”
Didn’t your dad ever teach you?
“No, uh—” He cleared his throat. “He didn’t teach me much.”
All traces of laughter disappeared from her face. She looked suddenly solemn, a ribbon of hair springing loose from her curlers.
I can help you.
Before he could protest, she’d risen onto her toes beneath him and begun redoing the knot with nimble fingers. He lifted his chin to grant her access, his pulse racing at a clip. When it was done, she stepped back to examine her work.
You look nice.
He feigned surprise. “Was that a compliment, Miss Farrow?”
Patting him on the chest, she turned toward the bathroom.
She didn’t make it far. A half step, at best. That’s all it took for him to reconsider. He caught her by the crook of her arm, tugging her into a pirouette. She managed to cut him a single, questioning look before he bent down and closed the remaining space between them. This time around, he did it right. He took his time, kissing her the way he wanted to—the way he should have done that day in his room. His hands splayed along her spine, pressing her into him until her breath shattered across his tongue in a soundless gasp.
The kiss deepened as the sun sank back behind the trees, leaving them shrouded in a velvety twilight. Emboldened by the dark—or else hastened by a sense of urgency—Vivienne grasped at his collar, undoing the knot she’d tied only moments before. The topmost button of his dress shirt popped loose. The second. The third.
Her fingertips scraped like claws along his clavicle.
“Viv? Are you ready?”
A voice in the hall sent them flying apart, both of them breathing hard.
Hadley appeared, flanked by the dogs, her expression flat. Vivienne began rapidly tugging out her curlers as though she’d been doing it all along, shaking loose the soft waves of her hair. It wasn’t remotely convincing. Her face was flush with color. Her lipstick was a mess of pink. Self-conscious, Thomas pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. His knuckles came away smudged.
