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“Oh, give over,” she replied, stopping in the middle of the hall and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Gotta get the blood flowing again.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, we’re going to be here all night.” I extracted my arm from hers and stepped in front of her. “Get on my back.”
“I’m not climbing on your back!”
“I’m not waiting for you to decide you can walk again, so here. I’ll give you a piggy-back to our room where you can crawl about if you so wish.”
“You could have a bit of sympathy for me, you know.”
“For what? You willingly putting those murder contraptions on your feet? Not on your nelly, Cinderella. Now jump, on my count of three.”
“Oh, Jesus, fine.” She handed me her shoes, then placed her hands on my shoulders.
I counted down, feeling her squat, then jump on my final count. I hooked my arms under her knees, hitting myself in the thighs with her heels. “You good up there?”
“I haven’t had a piggyback since I was eight. This is ridiculous.”
“So is your footwear.” I carried her down the hall to make the turn to our rooms. “But I would like to go to bed before midnight, so let’s go.”
She huffed in my ear. “Thank you. My feet hurt.”
“That hurt you to admit, didn’t it?”
“Shh. I’ll have no mystery left if you make me admit anything.” She rested her face alongside mine, shifting her body slightly. “Do you think we really pulled it off tonight?”
“Yes. Your grandmother seems entirely convinced that I’m irrevocably in love with you, and she knows the truth, so I’m sure we were believable to everyone else. Down you get.” I stopped outside our room.
“My feet hurt,” she whined in a small, playful voice.
“Jesus Christ. I might not be in love with you, but I’m whipped.”
She laughed as I dug in my pocket for the room key and unlocked it, then awkwardly turned the doorknob to open the door. I carried her inside, kicking the door shut with my foot.
I took her right through to the bedroom and turned. “Ready? I’ll lower you down.”
“Okay, go.” She loosened her arms, and I unceremoniously dumped her on the bed, not bothering to sit or bend down in any way whatsoever.
Grace screamed as she bounced, and I dropped her shoes on the floor, laughing at her.
“You arse!” She glared at me, fussing with her skirt. “You said you’d lower me down!”
“I did lower you down,” I pointed out. “You’re down, aren’t you?”
She scrambled off the bed onto her suspiciously capable feet and glared at me. “Well, you—you—”
“You look like you can walk just fine,” I remarked.
She froze. “All right, you caught me. I just didn’t want to walk.”
“Really? Sounds like you just wanted to cuddle me.” I loosened my tie and pulled it over my head, tossing it on the empty chair next to the drawers. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”
“You’re really running with this whole thing, aren’t you? I did not want to cuddle you. I don’t want to cuddle you.”
“Just like you didn’t want to kiss me, right?”
“Totally different things.”
“Is it?” My lips pulled to one side. “It’s okay. I’ll cuddle you if you want.”
