When her expression falls again, I know there’s only one bed.
“Sorry. It’s a deluxe king.”
Callum turns toward me. “We can check somewhere else. See if another hotel in the area has two rooms. Or at least a room with separate beds.”
I’m on the verge of agreeing. But how many hotels could this small town actually have? This is a guaranteed room. I’d hate to pass on it, only to be unable to find anywhere to stay. Plus, this is a really nice hotel. Marble floors. A cozy fireplace. And the Christmas tree is one of the most beautiful trees I’ve seen in a while.
Except for the ones on my property.
I’ll always be partial to those.
“Let’s just stay here. That way we’re not driving around in the snow.”
“If you’re sure…” He arches a brow.
“It’s not a big deal,” I insist, although the idea of not just sharing a room with Callum but also a bed has me more nervous that I’ve been in a while.
Reaching into my purse, I grab my wallet and place my credit card onto the counter at the same time as Callum does.
“I’ve got it, Parker.” He slides my card toward me.
“But you paid for dinner.” I push my card toward the clerk once more.
“This is a business expense for me,” he insists.
“Me, too,” I remind him.
“True. But if you let me pay, you’ll be sticking it to the man trying to buy your property.” He leans toward me, dropping his voice to a low whisper. “If you’re getting fucked anyway, may as well get something in return.” He pulls back, his sinful eyes locking with mine. “Isn’t that what Estelle told you?”
I try not to focus on the way my body reacts to hearing Callum say fuck. But my god, it’s sexy as hell.
Then again, he could probably read my grocery list and I’d find it sexy as hell in his deep, gravelly voice.
“More or less.”
“Then let me pay.”
With a devious grin, I face the clerk. “You wouldn’t happen to have a presidential suite we can upgrade to, would you? Something ridiculously expensive?”
Callum throws his head back and laughs, the sound echoing through the lobby. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing him laugh. Seeing him smile. For those few seconds, he’s able to drop all pretenses and just relax.
He should do it more often.
“Sorry,” the clerk says with a slight chuckle of her own. “But thereisa mini bar in the room you can pillage.”
“Works for me.”
She takes Callum’s credit card and swipes it. Once she’s finished, she hands him an envelope with our keys, along with a bag of complimentary toiletries, such as a few toothbrushes and toothpaste, then directs us toward an elevator.
“After you,” Callum offers once it arrives and the doors open.
He places his arm over the door, preventing them from closing on us, and I step inside, my body brushing his as I do. Then he joins me, making the small space feel even more miniscule.
The instant the door closes, my anxiety spikes, my heart pounding so fast I’m confident it’s about to burst out of my chest. It’s not the first time I’ve been alone with Callum. But it’s the first time I’ve felt his presence to this extent. Felt this strange spark mounting with every second.
I’m hyper aware of every swipe of his tongue along his lips. Every subtle rise of his shoulders. Every glance he steals my way. The sooner I get out of this elevator, the better.
Although, I have a feeling being alone in a hotel room with him won’t be any better.
