“She won’t like waiting,” she said, her face and voice devoid of expression.
He looked at me, and I shrugged.
“We’ll go straight there,” he said.
She didn’t smile exactly, but it was obvious she was pleased there were no further arguments. “You will be in your usual bedroom with your guest, and I’ve supplied the proper bath items, Ms. Donovan, but please tell me if there’s anything you need that’s missing.”
“Thank you,” I said, hoping she understood I was grateful for all her obvious hard work.
“Now, Colin, your brother and Ms. Walsh have asked me to stress to you the importance of your being on time this evening.”
Colin started to ask, “Why is it import—” but he must have seen how Malia lifted her eyes but not her head. “I’ll be on time.”
“Your father wants you to go on the fishing boat tomorrow morning,” she said, this time lifting her face to look at us both.
Colin shook his head. “I’ll speak to him.”
Malia continued ticking off items on her digital to-do list. The rest were minor tasks, such as advising us to review the itinerary in our welcome bags in our room, talking to the groundskeeper about what he’d like to do with his damaged kayak, and informing the kitchen if we wanted breakfast in bed.
I blushed at that one. It was something I’d been avoiding, the idea of us sharing a bed. We hadn’t even properly made out, much less had sex, and yet here we were having an entire weekend together. Even Malia must have expected us to be getting it on.
But I truly had no clue what would happen.
Objectively, yes, I wanted to touch and be touched all over by the seemingly generous, confident (except when it came to Malia, apparently), and devastatingly handsome man standing next to me.
But would I do that without knowing what was really going on? There was definitely a mystery, and before we progressed any further, I had to solve it.
Colin’s hand reached for mine while Malia said, “That’s all for now. Now, go to your mother. I’ll have your bags taken to your room.”
We walked away, looked back to see Malia fiddling with her phone, and laughed together.
“Is she always so strict?” I asked, taking in the grand pool we were walking next to.
“It was worse when we were children. Three boys? You can imagine how many times I had to face a corner in the kitchen in time-out. Somehow, I was always the scapegoat for my brothers’ antics. Stephen, my older brother and boy genius, could do no wrong. And Landon, the youngest, was the little one, so if he did anything wrong, it’s because I must have put him up to it.”
I giggled, imagining the six-foot-tall Colin as an eight-year-old, doing penance for his siblings.
“Did you ever try to rebel?”
“That came later. My teenage years. But I specifically remember one time that Malia set the curfew. My mother caught me coming in, and I’m not sure if she was aware what time Malia had told me to be home, but my mother promised not to rat me out.”
“Your mom didn’t mind you sneaking in late?” I asked incredulously.
“It wasn’t her job during the school year. That was the boarding school’s job. She likely wanted us to have a relaxed summer and not be the bad guy, so Malia it was.”
I couldn’t imagine my mom being so blasé about my sneaking around and not setting a curfew.
“Is that her?” I whispered, even though we were still outside. There was a red-headed woman sitting on a lounge chair in what I assumed was the sunroom from the wall of windows.
“Queen of the Gordons. You’ll see,” he said when I must have looked confused.
We entered the house through a pair of French doors that opened into a large living room with the tallest ceilings I’d ever seen in a house. Colin led me through a door on the right, which revealed the very room and woman we’d seen from outside.
“Hello, darling!” she said, sitting up straighter, if that was possible. I straightened my own shoulders.
“Hello, Mother,” he said, leaning down to give her a hug. “Mother, I’d like you to meet Katelynn Donovan. She also works for the agency.”
“Hello, Mrs. Gordon,” I said, extending a hand.
