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“Absolutely,” Charlie said but stayed behind when Hayley walked over to the car. She turned to him. “So…”
There was a glint in her eye. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.
“How long have you two been together?”
He stared down at his hands. “We’re not. We just work together.”
“Uh-huh. Sure. You forget that I spend almost all my time around couples. Do you know how many weddings I’ve done where the groom looks at his wife the way you look at her?”
As if needing to prove her wrong, Harrison turned his attention to Hayley, trying to school his features into something resembling apathy. He managed it, mostly, and then a passing wind blew a bloom into the path of a man with a young child on his shoulders. Harrison watched him pass the flower back to Hayley, a short conversation occurring.
He’d had plenty of opportunities to watch Hayley from afar. He relied on his habit of people watching for his work, but it was different with her. Hayley drew him in no matter how crowded the room. Once he found her, he couldn’t look away.
She was soft where he was all edges. Patient where he was irritable.
She made him want to be better.
“I knew it,” Charlie said. She pressed her lips together and tapped her fingertips in quiet applause, bouncing in place. “I could tell the minute you two showed up. You’re so cute together. She’s sunshine; you’re rain. The perfect combination.”
“Okay, you’ve lost me. But congratulations on your imagination.”
Charlie laughed. “You’re in love with her.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Nice try.”
“If your answer was no, you wouldn’t be so afraid to admit it. Just saying.”
“What are you, some kind of love guru?”
“Like I said, I’m a fan of romance.”
“Isn’t everybody.”
“You should tell her.”
“Tell me what?” Hayley appeared, surprising him. Flushed and happy, she looked so beautiful he ached.
“You’ve got pollen in your hair.”
“And you are a terrible liar,” she said. “Fine, don’t tell me. I have other ways of getting it out of you.”
He had no doubt about that. Hayley could get him to do anything she damn well wanted.
* * *
Lee had been telling him for years that he had a habit of getting a little too deep into his work. Maybe he was right. Maybe all this talk about love and romance and relationships had rewired his brain. Although that didn’t explain the suite. Or the coffee shop. Or the impromptu dance number.
Or that he had been feeling this way since long before this week.
The moment he crossed the threshold, Harrison went straight for the minibar.
The towel swans had returned tonight, neatly arranged on their bed.
He practically gulped from his wineglass, trying to avoid thoughts about the looks and touches they’d shared today, the lack of space between them, how close he was to giving in to how much he wanted her.
Harrison finished his glass of wine. Poured another.
He hadn’t faced his opinions on love in a long time. And he knew what he would find if he did. But if he couldn’t be honest with himself, he was no better than a hypocrite. His work hinged on digging below the surface. On asking why. On challenging it.
