"But then how will Miss Shiny Hair come to your room later if I'm there?" Oh my God. I slam my hand over my mouth. Killian’s brows pull together.
"Who?"
"Never mind."
"It's not never mind." I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. Killian reaches over, his forefinger going to my chin as his thumb pulls my lip out. "Zolotse, tell me."
"Zolotse?" It sounds Russian. I thought I've caught hints of an accent.
"Don't change the subject. Answer me."
"It's silly."
"It is not." I can see the determination in his gaze.
"The girl behind the front desk." He glances back toward the entrance; we're still parked right outside. She's watching us.
"What of her? She has the shiny hair?" I nod.
"She gave you her card." He holds out his hand, revealing only the room key. "Oh."
"I tossed it on my way out. She was strange."
"Strange?"
"She laughed at nothing. It was irritating.” I snort a laugh. "See, Zolotse? Your laugh is sweet."
"You think so?"
"Know so. This is why it will only be you in my room tonight."
"They only had one room?" I ask. I want to do a happy dance, but I keep it together. I'm playing it cool and hip. Sharing a room with a man, no big deal.
"Renovations."
"Are you sure that's okay? I don't want to intrude."
A deep chuckle rumbles from him. "I enjoy your chatter."
"Chatter?" He gives me one of his shrugs. Killian is a man of few words. Stoic, almost. "Maybe you'll tell me a bedtime story."
"Now you're teasing me," I say with a laugh as I give his arm a playful smack.
"We'll see." He starts the SUV and pulls it around to the other side of the building. "It's nothing much, but we can get sleep here and shower."
"It's great," I tell him as he slides the key so we can get in the building. The room is right there. The first one. That makes it easy. "We can look up a few places that maybe we can stop at tomorrow."
"We can do whatever you like." He opens the door to our room.
The first thing I notice is that there is only one bed. It's massive but still only one. Killian goes around the room opening the closets and checking the bathroom. I’m not sure what he’slooking for or why he’s doing it, but I have my own quirks, so who am I to judge?
“There is only one bed,” I point out. My eyes flick over to the small loveseat sitting off to the side with a coffee table. “I can take that,” I offer.
“I’m not making you sleep on the couch.” He shakes his head.
“You can’t fit on it.” I laugh.
“I’ll take the floor.”
