Page 120
Honestly, the very notion was ridiculous. Absurd. Absolutely asinine.
And yet…
She sighed. “That’s fine.”
“What’s fine?”
“We can just share the room.”
He stared down at her, his brow raised in surprise. “And you’d be okay with that?”
“Of course,” she said, determined not to make it a big deal.
Who cared that they were once enemies and now friends? Or that there was all this tangible, warm, sparkling chemistry between them? They were professional, working adults. They could handle one night in the same room in order to keep the both of them dry, safe, and warm. Not to mention alive.
“But,” Matthew began, still clearly hesitant, “wouldn’t it be a little…inappropriate?”
Bless his heart. “Only if you make it so, Matthew Wintour,” she teased.
He smiled, and the awkwardness from before seemed to drip off them with the rain.
“Anyway,” she continued in a whisper, glancing back at Mrs. Kitchingside. The woman’s eyes darted swiftly away as she pretended not to listen. “It’s not like we have to share the bed. One of us can sleep in it, and the other can sleep on the floor with pillows. Anything is better for the both of us than sleeping with that traitorous Minnie for the night.”
Matthew grimaced. “She is traitorous. The little minx.”
Winnie nearly laughed. “So it’s decided, then. We share the room.”
“You sure it won’t make you uncomfortable?”
“Nope. I trust you.”
The words startled her as much as they seemed to startle Matthew. His eyes darted toward her, lingering and softening as the seconds ticked by.
“You do?” he asked.
Winnie had no idea where the words had come from, other than the center of her soul. She didn’t really have a problem trusting others. She’d trusted some boyfriends in the past. She trusted her sister Sarah. But trust the guy who’d openly admitted trying to get rid of her?
Yet, it was true.
“Yep,” she said flippantly. “Any guy who names his car Minnie can’t possibly be a threat.”
He chuckled, and they returned to Mrs. Kitchingside. “We’d love your final room, thank you.”
“Excellent,” the woman responded, though her curious eyes remained on them.
Winnie looked away, unable to respond to anymore probing. She was questioning herself enough, wondering once again how she’d managed to go from practically hating Matthew Wintour to liking him…If not more.
After providing their information and paying for the room, Winnie assuring Matthew she’d reimburse him for half, they followed Mrs. Kitchingside to the room upstairs.
Winnie didn’t think they would have had any trouble finding the way on their own, but Mrs. Kitchingside had insisted—no doubt to lob more questions at them.
“So are you in Littlethorpe for any particular reason?” she asked with a smile over her shoulder.
“We had a spot of car trouble on the way in,” Matthew responded politely. “Had to leave it on the side of the road a couple miles back.”
“Oh, dear. I can recommend the motor mechanic we use, but he won’t be available until morning.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Matthew returned.
