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It was a quiet jaunt over to the inn. Well, except for Izzy’s voice telling me this was not a good idea. Did she want me to sleep out in the cold? It was going to be fine. I mean, I only had fuzzy oversized heart-print flannel pajamas to wear. Nothing remotely sexy had ever happened in them. In fact, they screamed “cute and perky assistant.” I already knew how it would all go: we would eat, brush our teeth—because Drake really loved to brush his teeth—and then we would go to sleep separately, get up, and hopefully be able to drive to an airport in the morning. Sure, I would probably be up most of the night tossing and turning, knowing Drake was so near and fantasizing about things that were already making me blush. Our earlier conversation would for sure play on repeat in my head while I burned with embarrassment for hours on end. Other than that, it was going to be fine, just fine. There were no more poor decisions on the horizon. Like zero chances for them.
We pulled up to the Old Rock Church Inn, whose charm and beauty shined through the darkness and never-ending snowfall. I was in love. The old rustic stone church with horseshoe windows was a Jane Austen dream come to life. The white brick inn looked like it had been added on later but was just as charming with a dormer roof and several chimneys. I was aching to check out the attic or whatever little rooms I was sure hid behind the small windows jutting out of the roof. I imagined ball gowns and old leather trunks filled with black-and-white pictures and first-edition classic books.
“You’re in love with the place, aren’t you?” Drake interrupted my daydreaming. Why did he have to know me so well?
“It’s enchanting.”
He chuckled lowly. “Let’s go check in. I’ll get our luggage afterward.”
Great, now he was being gentlemanly. I needed to call Izzy so she could yell at me for real. In the meantime, I began to run some of her previous lectures in my head: “Char, he’s a playboy and you would only be a flavor of the month. He’s too old for you.” That was a lie; he was only six years older than me. She just liked to throw that in because she was desperate to point out any conceivable flaw. “If you cross the line, there is no going back and it would make working for him almost impossible.” She was right. So right. I loved my job even though it was excruciating at times, watching Drake be everyone else’s leading man but my own. At least the health insurance and pay were excellent.
It’s not like Drake wanted anything to happen. He’d made that clear. It was going to be fine. Just fine. Why did I feel the need to keep telling myself that?
We walked in, covered in snow and partially frozen, but that didn’t put a damper on the crush I was developing for this old place. The real hardwood floors that creaked and the spiral staircase rivaling any Victorian home called to my soul. To our right was a parlor complete with a roaring fire and an ornate crystal chandelier that provided low lighting. The shabby floral furniture and old tattered oriental rugs added to the room’s charm. I peeked to the left to see what looked like a darkened ballroom or perhaps a reception hall. I believe it must have been the “church” part of the inn. I desperately wanted to turn on the lights to see what I was sure would be a truly magical place. Something spellbinding hummed there. I felt it from my head to my toes.
“Hello, back here,” a rumbly old voice croaked.
Drake and I followed the voice down a narrow hallway, where we found a kindly looking old man with barely a wisp of hair, big ears, and a wide smile standing behind the fine mahogany check-in counter that was in need of a good polishing.
The chatter of other guests drifted down the hall while Dean Martin crooned on a record player situated on an antique table in the corner. I was falling more and more in love with the place.
I smiled at the old man. “Hi, I’m Charlotte; I think we just spoke on the phone.”
The old man’s deep-brown eyes lit up almost as if he recognized me. “Yes. I’m George. You booked the honeymoon suite.”
I nodded.
He studied Drake and me for a moment. “I knew you would be the right couple for it.”
Drake cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably next to me. “We’re not a couple.” He was quick to set George straight.
“Yeah, look at him,” I teased, before I did something ridiculous and cried. “Who would want to wake up to that face every morning?” You know, besides me.
