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Surveying my surroundings, I could sleep in the bathtub. But given there are only a couple of towels, they’d be soaked by the time I dried it and the base would likely be uncomfortable.
“Focus, Lally,” I whisper.
Not easy to do with a gorgeous man in the other room.
I meet my gaze in the mirror.
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
How’d he go from handsome to gorgeous? I am getting way ahead of myself. It’s bad enough I’ve embarrassed myself multiple times in front of him, I can’t have flutters and feelings. This is silly. I’m probably just trying to distract myself from the wedding tomorrow.
Okay, time to get ready to go to sleep, and let’s be real, look great tomorrow.
First, I shower and do my normal routine of washing and brushing. Then I apply a special serum to my hair that I got from a local in Coco Key. It’s only something I do once a week but helps keep my curls shiny.
I scrub a little circle of steam off the mirror and apply an overnight face mask. I tested it already so I know I won’t wake up with a breakout or splotches. Lastly, I slather a balm onto my feet that works to relieve the ache from the high heels and softens the rough spots. The only problem is they make the soles of my feet slippery and I catch myself on the edge of the bathroom vanity before I go splat.
I already took a spill tonight, I don’t need another accident. Having seen Magnus in action, he’d probably break the door down if he heard me yelp or crash to the floor.
I don’t want to sound petty, but I can’t help but wonder if Romy meant to push me in the pool as he suggested. We were right at its edge. I didn’t want to bother the best man about the rings again, but she was being insistent. Then the next thing I knew, I was in the pool.
The good news is, after tomorrow, I never have to see Romy and Ross again. Unless they ask me to be their child’s godmother—if they have kids. Romy said she didn’t want any because it would make her saggy.
What I would give to be a mom, sags and all. First, I’d need to get married.
I glance at my finger that once held an engagement ring. Then I recall Magnus commenting that I don’t have fat thumbs. Romy once said that my thumbs look like a pair of big toes. She’s not entirely wrong. The nail beds are wide and not slender like hers.
Letting out a sigh, I tug on my pajama set—a modest, ultra-soft button-up top and shorts with, yes, a giraffe print—and hang up my towel.
Turning off the light, I tiptoe across the room with the one remaining dry towel to use as a blanket in case I get cold. The room is pitch black and eerily silent as if Magnus doesn’t breathe. Feeling around in the dark, I smooth my hand along the desk, find the bistro table, and then take two steps forward to where the chair should be.
My toe stubs the base and as I drop down, I meet something soft, but not a cushion. Nope. I’m in Magnus’s lap.
This time, I do yelp, leaping off him, and crash into the reading lamp. The shade lands on my head like a hat and the light blinks on.
Magnus’s eyes fill with a mixture of concern and mirth.
“I’m not usually this much of a menace.”
He helps me to my feet. Like before, when we shook hands, his rough palm around mine feels strangely like a hug. Contact that I’ve sorely needed.
“I did not mean to sit in your lap. What were you doing in the chair?”
“I was trying to sleep.”
“The bed. You. Now.”
He holds up his hands. “So commanding, but it’s hard to take you seriously with that yellowish-green goop on your face. It seems you took the whole giraffe thing seriously.”
“Ha ha. Not funny.” I pick up the nearest pillow and toss it at him. He catches it deftly and a smile works its way toward his eyes.
I’m not sure if it’s because I’m wearing a ridiculous facemask or something else.
Magnus
CHAPTER 6
I can’t claim to feel good about Lally bunking in the chair, but if we don’t go to sleep soon, we’ll both be wrecked tomorrow. I don’t know about her, but as soon as the wedding is over, I have a long drive ahead of me.
