I glance over at her. “I don’t want it to look like I’m making all your decisions. Not in front of Dan and Liam.”
She shakes her head. “This is exactly why I hired you. This is too big a decision to make without your input. Valerie will be there too. Sit in the back of the room with her. You’ll look like another part of my staff,” she suggests.
“Or that I’m there for a midday booty call.” The words are out before I can stop them. I don’t mean them to be flirty, just a joke about me being the spouse of such a powerful woman. I’m about to apologize when she laughs and then claps a hand over her mouth.
“Jord.” The lighthearted way she reacted says she understood the joke, and there’s something even more powerful about that.
So I lean into it. I love seeing her laugh, especially when it lights up her entire face like this. “I’ll bring my ‘I love Libby Bennet’ notebook to take notes in.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “You know Dan loves it when I’m all smitten with you.”
Her laughter continues. “His wife told me today that he thinks we’re the cutest couple. His words, she swore.”
I snort. “Good to know we’re fooling Dan.”
She quirks an eyebrow at me. “Are we?” she asks. “Foolinghim?”
We’re pulling into the parking lot of the Devils’ stadium, and when I flash the VIP passes we have, we’re waved through to park in a lot closer to our entrance.
“Honestly,” I say to Libby once we’re through. “Are wefoolinganyone?” I stop the truck since there’s no other cars at this entrance right now. “Am I wrong about what’s here between us?”
Libby reaches across the console to thread her hand in mine. It could be because we’re in a public space, and though people can’t see us inside the truck, you never know when it comes to people trying to capture anything about the Bennet sisters.
But then she smiles at me softly and says, “Not wrong.”
That’s all I need to wait on her for as long as she needs.
CHAPTER 26
LIBBY
If I’m being honest, I don’t like being in bed by myself.
Which is completely ridiculous. I only slept in that huge guest bed with Jordan for two nights. Not even consecutive. We’ve been living in our townhome for three nights now that I’ve been by myself.
But my sheets smell like freshly laundered sheets and not like Jordan, and there’s no scooting to the middle of the bed and burrowing myself next to him to be cozy.
For three nights we’ve climbed the stairs together and gone to our separate rooms. By ourselves.
Alone.
I flop over for what feels like the millionth time and huff in frustration. Why can’t I sleep? It’s almost two in the morning. I’ve fallen asleep for small stretches, but somehow now I’m wide awake. The sleep-sounds machine I have next to my bed is doing nothing.
I flip it off and reach for my headphones to listen to an audiobook when I hear the faint noises of someone downstairs in the kitchen.
Well, probably not just anyone. In all likelihood it’s Jordan, and if it’s not, I need to wake him up to go and investigate.
I throw on a hoodie over my tank top. As I pass Jordan’s room, I note that the door is open and he’s not in bed. I’m not quiet as I come downstairs, so Jordan looks up at me from a spot at the table where he’s drinking a mug of something.
“Sorry,” he says with a grimace. “Did I wake you?”
I shake my head. “Couldn’t sleep and heard someone downstairs. Thought I should check it out.”
His eyes rake over my body and linger on my legs. I’m wearing shorts—though I should have put on sweats if Jordan wasn’t going to be in bed with me, keeping me warm—and my oversize hoodie drops past the hemline. I ignore the flutter in my stomach at his clear admiration before he quickly brings his gaze back up.
“And what were you going to do if it was an intruder?” he says, his voice sounding slightly strangled.
“I would go get you.” I shrug. I do feel bad that my attire might be torturing Jordan right now, but there’s nothing to do about it. He lives with me.
“Ah, yes.” He nods and holds up his mug. “Warm milk. Will made some for when we were staying with them. Thought I’d try it. Want some?”
