“You do look lovely, Nora,” Jeremy added, turning in his seat to flash me a sweet, freckled smile. I could absolutely see what Otis saw in him.
“Thanks,” I muttered, throat suddenly dry.
It was the outfit.Thatoutfit. The one fromtheselfie. Which, of course, had been totally on accident. Ever since John had invaded my life, I’d been living in a chaotic mess of accidents.…selfies, swims, kisses, and other…things.
I silently begged the universe to let me arrive before him, so I could change. Just thethoughtof being under the same roof again was enough to overheat my internal circuits.
Not the same bed, though. Definitely not.
I had even toyed with telling Charlene I had, I don’t know, explosive diarrhea, and had to do my revisions at home. But it felt too risky. What if she thought I wasn’t cut out for this?
Maybe John wouldn’t even come. Maybe he was full of regret, mortified by it all. Maybe he’d decided to do the retreat remotely from his sexy little houseboat with his sexy little French press and sexy little reading glasses.
But no. Of course not.
As we pulled into the drive, every car was already parked. Including his.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Otis said, winking as I opened the door.
“There’s nothing you wouldn’t do,” I said flatly.
“Exactly.” He blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes and shouldered my bag.
Otis and Jeremy lingered behind, caught in a chaste-but-swoony goodbye kiss.
The front door swung open as I reached the top stair. May pulled me into a brief hug. “Nora,” she beamed, then pushed past me to greet Jeremy.
Charlene followed, bright and breezy. “Good news—no snowstorms in the forecast.” Then she disappeared outside to greet the others.
And just like that, I was alone in the entrance hall.
And then I wasn’t.
He was there.
I had told myself the memories I kept replaying had been romanticized—overly saturated by the haze of sex and hormones. That I’d exaggerated the sharpness of his jaw, the intensity of his eyes. That I had filled in the blanks too generously. That he wasn’t reallyall that.
But as he sat there, in the cognac leather chair on the opposite side of the entrance, one ankle balanced on the other knee, his glasses perched on his perfectly sculpted nose, a snug turtleneck fitting like a glove and painting a landscape of his pecs, I realized that no…the memories hadn’t been half as breathtaking as the man himself.
The only thing breaking the sea of black was his oversized watch, catching the slant of sunlight pouring through the window. Golden dust articles bathed his shoulders, his hair.
“Nora,” he said with a small nod. My stomach flipped. I ignored it.
Cool-girl exterior. Come on, Nora. He’s just a guy. Like…ew.
“John,” I returned, hefting my bag higher. I was one second away from bolting upstairs, ditching this dress, and plunging into a cold, cold shower.
Then his eyes dropped to my outfit. His brows lifted, his lips parted slightly.
Shit. He noticed.
I should’ve worn something safer. A hoodie. A coat. A medieval suit of armor. But no. I had to wear this dress. The dress.
Wait. No. I wasn’t going to apologize for looking good. It was just a dress. So what if it happened to bethatdress? I had every right to exist in it.
“Everyone’s on time, goodie,” Charlene chimed behind me as Jeremy and May stepped in. She was practically singing to herself as she handed out folders and uncorked a bottle of wine. “Who’s excited for a childfree week?”
While Charlene prepped dinner, the rest of us slipped back into our previous bedrooms, like it had been silently agreed upon. Which meant—yep—John was once again sharing a wall with me. I tried to focus on my editing notes instead of the soft zip of his suitcase or the thud of his boots hitting the floor.
