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‘Are you allowed to do that?’ She couldn’t imagine joyrides were normal protocol.
‘It’s not in the rule book, but where kids are involved, it sometimes helps to soften the trauma.’
‘Did it work?’
‘He certainly enjoyed letting off the siren.’ Matt checked his watch. ‘Five o’clock. How about we meet up at seven? That way we both have time for a nap. Do you want to check out the bridal suite first? The manager said it isn’t booked tonight, so it’s available if we want to take a look.’
‘I suppose we should.’ Beth wasn’t quite sure how she felt about being in a bedroom with Matt Hardy, or finding out more about what his job entailed. Maybe he wasn’t such a Neanderthal after all. Still, they wouldn’t be in the bridal suite long. It’s not like they were here together on a romantic getaway. This was a business trip.
In contrast to the bright sunshine outside, the inside of the inn was dark, with low-beamed ceilings and wooden panelling covering the walls. Large beer barrels sat on the stone flooring and the subdued lighting was suspended from old carriage wheels. It was charming, quaint and very atmospheric. Hopefully, Megan would approve.
After checking her in, the manager handed Beth her room key and directed them to the first floor.
Matt insisted on carrying her suitcase upstairs. Too tired to resist, she let him.
The corridor was dark and long, with a deep red carpet and a series of wooden doors. Beth found her room and headed inside. ‘Oh, wow.’
Matt stood by the doorway. ‘You like it?’
‘It’s amazing,’ she said, heading further inside.
The room was large and airy, with a beamed ceiling, double doors leading to a balcony and a huge king-sized bed. The focal point was an old-fashioned stand-alone bathtub sitting on a raised slab of slate in the middle of the room.
‘You’ll be able to stargaze,’ Matt said, depositing her suitcase by the bed.
She spotted the free-standing telescope positioned in front of the windows. ‘Have you been in here already?’
‘I was allocated this room, but I figured you’d like this one better.’
Why would he do that? ‘What’s the other room like?’
‘Like this one, but no bathtub.’
She frowned. ‘Didn’t you want a bathtub?’
He laughed. ‘Not one that small – there’d be no room for any water.’ He headed for the door. ‘Do you want to check out the bridal suite?’
‘I guess.’ She followed him across the corridor and into another large room, which was even more stunning than her own. ‘Wow, look at that bed.’
‘Finally, something built for my size,’ he said, bouncing onto the huge four-poster, with its dark wooden structure and draping voile canopy. ‘Maybe I should’ve booked this room instead.’ He flopped back onto the mattress.
A strange sensation fluttered inside Beth’s chest as she watched him stretch his arms above his head. The room was filled with sunlight, casting him in a warm glow, and she had a sudden inexplicable urge to join him… which was ridiculous, of course. What was she even thinking?
Rapidly coming to her senses, she backed away in a flustered manner and said, ‘Dinner at seven then. See you in the restaurant.’
Safely back in her room, she stripped off her clothes and settled into the ornate bathtub, ready for a long soak and keen to eradicate images of Matt Hardy lying on a four-poster bed, looking big and solid and tantalisingly good. The lack of sleep was playing havoc with her common sense.
At seven p.m. sharp, having enjoyed a short nap, Beth headed down to the restaurant. She was wearing a cream linen dress that had looked nice on the hanger, but felt like cardboard to wear. Another disastrous purchase. Would she never learn?
Matt was already waiting at the bar.
He stood up when she neared. ‘Nice dress,’ he said, laughing. ‘Comfy?’
‘Not in the slightest,’ she said, making him laugh harder.
For some strange reason she didn’t mind him laughing at her, which was unusual, as self-deprecating humour wasn’t one of her attributes. Maybe it was because there was no malice in his teasing. Or perhaps it was because she sensed he had body-image issues himself. Maybe it was simply that she didn’t have the energy to argue with him any more.
‘What can I get you to drink?’ he said, beckoning the barman over.
