AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With that parting pledge, he vanishes as smoothly as he surfaced, and I feel my heart romp after him.
It’s then that the waitress finally delivers my wine order that the manager must have relayed for me. Her timing is suspiciously perfect, brows furrowed in either condemnation or hero worship. Neither pleases me.
I flatten my dress and sip my wine when she scatters, attempting to settle my nerves as I scan the tables and doors to see if anyone is wise to what we just did. Only Rex. He winks with a sinful smirk that says he’s all too aware of my chosen dessert this evening. Fantastic.
It all reignites my irritation for Liam spying on me, so I swipe a hasty message to him.
Me: Don’t think this means your encroachment on my privacy will be overlooked. Your dick is still hard for a reason. I got mine.
The three dots dance, and I can hear his rumbling laughter in my mind, the one he belts out when he’s pleasantly caught off guard by me.
Liam: I’ve warned you about that sass before, Ace. Keep it up, and I’ll put you over my knee before I fuck you like I hate you.
His dirty talk and shameless slant on his actions should not appease or arouse me like they do. I’m in so much trouble.
Me: Sounds like foreplay.
Liam: Fucking made for me. Be mad all you want, baby girl. You’re stuck with me now. All mine.
I’m not sure it’s wise to be this giddy over a man telling me I’m stuck with him, but I can’t hide the girlish grin that sneaks up my cheeks as flutters hijack control of my stomach.
Another minute passes, and Scott appears. His eyes coast over me, and my gut cramps with apprehension. He knows. My cheeks are surely blushing, skin blotchy, hair mussed. No. I fixed myself. Liam checked me. It’s okay. Paranoia is the only thing he’s picking up on, so I readjust.
Never let them see.
“Was everything all right?” I ask, lifting my glass with a casualness I do not feel.
He slides in across from me. “Yes. There was a problem with my room. My things needed to be moved. A momentary mess, but all taken care of. I apologize.”
“Don’t,” I insist, ready to move into the parting-ways portion of our evening. “It’s fine. I’ve had a lovely time tonight.”
“I have too. I’m glad your grandfather was amenable. So often, the set-ups my father arranges are with those who aren’t …” He trails off, mouth kinked into a grimace.
I laugh. “No need to finish. Sadly, I could fill in a plethora of unfortunate adjectives to that same sentence.”
“I’m sure,” he says. “Family.”
“Right.”
“Oh”—his lips twist in annoyance—“speaking of family, I was supposed to give you some prized cigars from my father to pass on to your grandfather.”
“Yes. My grandfather mentioned that.” Shoot, I’d forgotten. I hope it doesn’t delay this evening too much longer. All I want is to get home to Liam.
“I should have grabbed them during that whole mess, but I was so concentrated on returning to you.” He really is sweet. He’ll make someone happy. “You want to follow me up?”
That may be the easiest avenue to a swift exit, so I don’t hesitate. “Sure. I’ll walk up with you.”
“Wonderful.” He stands, buttons his jacket, and holds his hand out to help me out of the booth, his blue eyes watching me in earnest. “I’ve got that book of photographs we spoke about too.”
The book is a compilation of photographs taken on his grandfather’s and father’s campaign trails—candid, behind-the-scenes shots. I would love to peek at them. But Liam wouldn’t like this at all. I don’t want Scott to think I’m being rude or give my grandfather anything to harp on though. Maybe this will give me an opening to gently explain I’m not interested and convince him to tell my grandfather we weren’t a match. If my family thinks I tried and it simply didn’t work, maybe they’ll be more accepting of Liam. Probably not. My mom was unwavering in her position on the matter. I can’t win, but I’d at least be able to hold my head up and insist I gave Scott a real chance.
He must sense my internal debate because he gestures toward the entrance into the hotel with a chuckle. “It’s a suite, Celeste. There’s a living room. No pressure. No funny business. One cup of coffee, a perusal of historical photographs, and shelter from the storm.”
“Storm?”
His face alights with humor as he points to the rain-splattered windows. “You really were in your own world while I was gone. The sky opened up with a roar about ten minutes ago.”
That’s humiliating.
