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But because he couldn’t be certain, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice any further time with her. “No work on the weekends—for either of us. No email. No work calls.”
“That’s a tall order.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone more than twenty-four hours in between email checks. It likely hadn’t happened since starting up Tandem Security. “A mini vacation.”
“I think it’s what normal people call weekends?”
He laughed and helped her stand so they could exit the plane. “I don’t know these normal people you speak of.”
“There it is again—that sneaky sense of humor you have.” She looped her arm through his as they walked through the gate and into the airport. “I’ll admit—a part of the reason I’m agreeing to this is so I can see your lair.”
“Lair? I’m hardly a vampire.”
“Well, no, not a vampire.” She shot him a look. “Not a werewolf, either. Definitely not a zombie. You’re more likely to like the Highlander or one of those other immortals with a quest for vengeance. Loner-ish. Obscenely rich. Doesn’t bother with social niceties.” She brightened. “Since we’re doing a real-life weekend, that means a movie marathon. I’m sure that’s in the fine print somewhere.”
Her enthusiasm diminished some of the dread eating a hole in his stomach. Maybe Trish wanted this fantasy state to last a little longer, too. “I draw the line at three movies. And there will be breaks in between.”
“Breaks for... Oh.” She grinned. “I think I can handle that. We’ll rent a few from my list. I’ll make you a horror fan yet—just watch.”
“You’re welcome to try.”
They collected their bags and hailed a cab back to his place. It wasn’t until they climbed out onto the sidewalk and headed into his building that he thought about how Trish might react to his suite. He punched the elevator button and turned to her, and sure enough, her blue eyes were wide. “Fancy place.”
He tried to see the lobby through her eyes. It was decorated in a modern chic style—whatever the fuck that meant—and was big on stainless steel and minimalism. He’d never put much thought into it before. It was a lobby, and he never spent more than a few seconds crossing it to get to the elevator. It wasn’t as if he lingered there. “If you say so.”
“Good Lord, you’re hilarious. I don’t have to say so, because it’s the truth.” She followed him into the elevator and they took the ride up to the top floor. Trish shot him another look. “You’re afraid of heights.”
“I don’t like heights,” he corrected.
“Sure. You don’t like heights. And you live in the top-floor penthouse suite?”
“The windows are reinforced,” he said stiffly. “And it’s not like I spend a lot of time looking out them.”
She nodded. “That doesn’t make any sense, but I’m going to pretend it does.” Trish wandered around his suite and, once again, he tried to see things from her point of view. Cameron hadn’t bothered to decorate the place himself. He’d hired a designer to outfit it after he bought it, and the man had done well enough. All the essentials were there—furniture, television, bed, various kitchen tools despite his rarely having time to cook. Everything was nice and neutral but, looking at it through the lens of what he knew of Trish, it seemed...boring.
She propped her hands on her hips. “You didn’t pick out a single thing in this place, did you?”
“How do you know that?”
“If you ever sat on that couch, you’d know it was wickedly uncomfortable and it isn’t nearly big enough.” She peered into the kitchen, hummed under her breath and turned back to him. “The only thing that really feels lived in, aside from the bedroom where you probably spend most of your time when you’re home, is the bookshelf.” She pointed at the inset bookshelf that he’d filled with first editions over the years. It was one of Cameron’s few extravagances, and he forced himself to limit how many he bought a year for the sole purpose of keeping it under control.
Trish drifted closer to the bookshelf. “This case is pretty impressive.”
“Some of those books are worth obscene amounts of money.” When she raised her eyebrows, he flushed. “I like to see them displayed like this. They make me happy.”
“You’re such a nerd. I like it.” She cupped the side of his face, gave an absent smile and wandered through the door to his bedroom. He followed her into the bathroom and laughed at her expression. “I did say the tub was large.”
“It’s humongous.” Trish fiddled with the faucets until they turned on, sending steaming water cascading out. She sat on the edge of the tub. “You just need a little color in this place, that’s all. Nothing too outrageous because it would drive you crazy. Just some soft tones to warm up the place and a few key pieces to bring it all together.” She frowned. “Maybe a plant or two. You have someone who cleans?”
