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What the hell? He’d committed to playing harder, hadn’t he?
“Yes, the entire weekend.”
That overthinking part of his brain could stay dormant for all he cared. There was another side to him that hadn’t been around nearly enough lately. The fun guy. The laid-back guy. That guy would have leaped at a spur-of-the-moment weekend in Tahoe. And with a woman who was as attracted to him as he was to her.
Ava slid a sheet of paper across the counter. “Here is the itinerary for Joseph Hart’s life celebration. In case you and your employee cross paths this weekend.” There was pure mischief in her smile.
“Thank you.” He looked over the schedule. Cocktail hours, dinners, water activities and a masquerade ball. Weirdest funeral he’d ever heard of. “Looks like I’ll need to pick up an outfit or two while I’m here. Can you point me toward the best shops in town?”
“Certainly, Mr. Knox.”
He finished checking in and strolled to his car, his bag in hand. He had no idea how Addi would react to hearing he wasn’t going anywhere. Guess he’d find out tonight.
She’d agreed to dinner regardless of what had happened during their car ride from River Grove, and he was holding her to it.
“You’re the one who said you liked me,” he said aloud as he turned over the engine. “No denying it now.”
Whistling, he pulled away from the inn and toward the shopping area the clerk had told him about. Tonight was proving a lot more fun than his original plans, after all.
After Addison hung her dresses in the wardrobe and tucked the rest of her clothing into the dresser, she hopped into the shower. Just a quick rinse before she changed for dinner with Bran.
He was holding her to it—he’d texted her to confirm the time. She thought about canceling but canceling would be less mature than sprinting away from him like her hair was on fire. She couldn’t hide forever.
But she could concoct a believable story.
Tonight, she would be courteous and professional...and apologize. She intended on remedying that rogue moment of stark honesty the only way she knew how.
By lying about it.
Blaming her outburst on grief would work, even if it wasn’t fair to Joe. But grief was the only excuse she had. She couldn’t erase what she’d said from Bran’s memory, so she was forced to explain it.
This uncomfortable mess would be over in a few hours. One dinner with Bran and then he’d leave come morning. There would be a nice lengthy gap between today and Monday at the office. Which reminded her, she needed to book a rental car so she could drive herself home.
She swept her hair into a chignon and smoothed her hands over her jade-green cocktail dress. She’d had no idea how to pack for a funeral disguised as a party. Her closet at home was choked with bright or pastel colors, but she’d packed her lone black dress just in case. She couldn’t very well show up in fuchsia for the official goodbye. She’d die of humiliation.
Don’t be dramatic, Ad, said Joe’s voice in her head.
He was right. If she hadn’t died admitting to her hot boss she liked him, humiliation wasn’t going to be what took her out.
She’d just finished applying her lipstick when there was a knock. Heart hammering in her chest, she gripped the handle, took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face. When she opened the door, there was no one standing outside of it. She leaned her head into the corridor and looked left then right. Empty.
The knock came again, this time from behind her. From the shared door between their rooms. Of course he’d do that. She resteeled her spine and replastered her smile before opening it.
Bran was, unsurprisingly, suited and sexy, his hair a tempting mess. His smile, unlike hers, wasn’t manufactured. His stance mimicked hers, his hand resting on the handle of his own dividing door as if they were looking at each other from either side of a fun house mirror.
“You didn’t have to give me the king bed,” he said.
“You’re bigger than me.” Her eyes trickled over his shoulder to his room. The clothes he drove here wearing were folded neatly on top of the stark white bedding, his shoes side by side on the floor. His suitcase was open, still packed, which made sense. He was only staying one night. She took in each of the details as an observer, trying her damnedest not to imagine him sleeping, mostly naked, on that bed just a breath away from her room. She wondered if she’d hear him showering through the walls...
She silenced the thought since fantasizing about him while standing in front of him was poor form.
He shut his own door and strolled into her room, breaking that invisible fun house mirror glass to stand in her space.
“You’re as organized as I imagined you would be,” he said. “Clothes put away, suitcase tucked into the closet.” Her heart fluttered when his eyes scanned her from head to toe. “Outside of work, I’m allowed to tell you you’re beautiful in that dress, right?”
“Thank you,” she managed. Barely. Outside of work and inside of her hotel room, there were a lot of things he could say and do that she could allow. Like a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth or a roll on the bed that would leave the comforter twisted into a knot.
Wait, no.
She had a plan and it didn’t involve acting on her feelings for him. This weekend was about reclaiming her heart as much as her independence. He’d stated clearly that tonight was nothing more than two coworkers hanging out and she was going to honor his wishes. Just because she’d foolishly admitted she liked him didn’t give her carte blanche to coerce him into her bed.
Suddenly hot, she stepped away from him—and the bed—to grab her purse. “We should get going.”
“I booked a reservation on the balcony, if that’s all right.”
Sounded romantic, but then again when it came to him, even “good morning” sounded romantic to her. He offered his elbow and she placed her hand on his corded forearm and let him lead her from her room. Soon they’d be on the same page again and she could lull her feelings for him into a deep, forever sleep.
