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“There’s no trying, only succeeding!” Bree says with one of her huge smiles into the phone. “So you’re Nora?” Now she’s hurdling the back of the couch.
“No, I’m his other fake wife.”
“Oh my god, she has a sense of humor too! I love you already,” Bree shouts just before she runs into something and the phone clatters to the ground.
I hold the key card in front of the lock and the light turns green. That feels metaphorical in an intimidating way.
All I hear over the line is Bree yelping and then a grumbled argument before Nathan’s face fills the screen. “How did this happen? You said you were never going to get married. And why is it fake? And how long is it fake for? Also—hi, Nora,” Nathan says with a grin that he doesn’t even mean to be sexy but probably is.Fine, it absolutely is.“Nice to see you again.”
Bree hops like a squirrel on a caffeine high behind Nathan’s shoulder. “Answer the questions, Derek!”
I would, except Nora and I finally step inside our incredible suite and our eyes track to the same spot in the room.
“Wait—what are y’all looking at?” Bree asks, smashing her face closer to the screen.
“I don’t know,” Nathan responds more to his wife. “They both look like they’ve just seen a monster, though.”
I swallow. “We’ll call you back later.”
“Derek Pender, don’t you dare hang—”
I end the call, unable to tear my eyes from the unfortunate object in the room.
There’s only one bed.
It’s a single-room suite. And of course it is! Why would we have expected the agency to book us anything different? We’re married, for pancake’s sake. But somehow in the mad dash to buy and pack our clothes and get to the airport and slip further into delirium from complete lack of sleep over the last forty-eight hours, I didn’t stop to consider that Derek and I might have to share a room. Share more than just the same space, in fact.
I blink at the only bed in the room.
It’s enormous—which is good, I guess. But also, somehow daunting. A zing of desire strikes down my spine as I think of sleeping next to Derek again. Should I be having desire zings? I don’t think so.You’re his agent, Nora!Wait, am I? He unofficially fired me.
Dear god, the enormity of the mess I’m in fully hits me. I’m married to my client who fired me. Who also happens to be Derek. Who I also happen to still have feelings for and find myself wondering every ten minutes if I made a mistake breaking up with. Wondering if maybe I could kiss him, and he’d kiss me back?
Not good.
My eyes slip to the man beside me. Up his solid tattooed arms to his hulking shoulders, over his square jaw and to that full mouth a man has no business possessing.
This is going to be tricky.
“Well now, this is a gorgeous suite,” I say, stepping deep into the bowels of the beast but away from the offending bed. I drop my backpack next to the big black velvet couch and run my hand over its soft armrest.
“I’ve always wanted a velvet couch.” I’m a blabbermouth with nothing important to say.
Derek watches me dramatically wiggle my butt around and make a big show out of loving this piece of furniture. “This is sublime. I mean, what a couch. In fact…” I trail off while unzipping my backpack and pulling my laptop out onto the tops of my thighs. “I think I’m going to claim it, if that’s okay with you?”
“Nora.” That’s Derek’s all-too-familiarwhat is happening to you nowway of saying my name.
I force my gaze up.
He’s still standing in his same place just past the door, but he’s so large it feels like he’s taking up the whole damn room. Another reason I’m not sharing that bed with him. He seems to be hitting a growth spurt as we speak, and his shoulders are doubling in size. There’d be no room for me on there. Our butts would bump. Legs would tangle. I’d have to lie facedown on his chest because it’s so big it would become the mattress. And then I’d somehow wake up pregnant and there’s no way I’d be able to birth one of Derek’s monstrous babies; therefore, I will claim the couch.
I only glance up at him for a split second before I dive back into the world of my laptop. Even as I begin typing the response to an email that came through while we were in the air, I feel my shoulders relaxing. Some people use fidget spinners to distract their fingersfrom anxiety. I use work. Work is good. Work is where I go when I feel unsure in the world because for me, work is an equation that has a clear answer every single time. Plus, I’m good at what I do.
Want to guess what I’m not good at?Derek.
I feel his eyes on me and my fingers are clumsy on the keys. I backspace four times.
“Nora, I feel like I’m always asking this question lately, but…what are you doing?” Derek’s voice rumbles at me. Or it rumbles extra at me. It’s gritty from his lack of sleep and he’s sporting a very nice scruffy jawline.
