Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Whit
“ H ello?”
“Ms. Grantham, we have a Mr. Holder here, who says he’s supposed to meet you?” The nasal tone of the head of Reception came through the hotel room phone just as I walked in.
“Yes. Please send him up immediately,” I said, breathless with the elation that hit at the news that Ben was there.
Ben’s here!
I paced back and forth, wondering just how slowly the Reception people were moving if it was taking him this long to get from the lobby to my room.
Our room .
I hadn’t changed out of the clothes I’d worn all day, a short halter dress and sleek ponytail, requisite stage and camera makeup, heels—I needed to shower, let my hair dry, and get to bed soon. I’d hoped he’d get here sooner, but no doubt the traffic had kept him away.
We’d messaged a few times a day since I’d left. I think he was giving me space and I was giving him space, too. I didn’t know why, but I just wanted him with me. He was calming, even as he set my insides to fizz.
Finally, the knock on the door came, and I practically sprinted to get to it, checking the peep hole to see him turned sideways, probably chatting with the guard stationed in the hallway. My belly flipped, and I pulled the door open.
Ben Holder stood there, a bag in each hand, jeans over gray and red Nike tennis shoes, a rumpled long-sleeved T-shirt, and his hair clean cut on the sides and a bit longer on top like he’d worn on the tour. It hadn’t been all that long since I’d seen him, but he was absolutely gorgeous. Almost to the point that I didn’t know what to do with him, except that I’d been waiting ever since we’d said goodbye Tuesday night for this moment.
“Hi.” I grabbed his arm since his hands were full and pulled him into the room.
I set his bag to one side, and he hung his garment bag to his left on a hook meant for a jacket, though that was fairly ridiculous for LA unless it was a rain jacket.
We both had the same idea.
Our arms wrapped around each other, and the relief washed over me as he pressed me to him, leaned back just a bit to lift me off the floor. Then his mouth was on mine, and the relief turned to a new sense of urgency. He bent just slightly, put his hands on the backs of my thighs, and pulled me up—like it was nothing, mind you—and held me with my legs circling his torso and my head now a few inches higher than his. His arms locked underneath me to hold me in place, and I urged him closer, my hands around his neck.
With a groan, he turned and my back gently slammed against the wall as he pushed closer, let his hands run over my cheeks, my neck, skate down my body as I did the same, relishing having him in front of me, savoring every touch and breath and taste.
The phone startled us both, and he pulled back, giving me the most delectable look shaded with desire and a laugh.
“Guess you should get that,” he said, his voice all gravel and grit.
“Probably should. You never know.” I cleared my throat and let my feet meet the ground toes first as he released me.
My body was thrumming with adrenaline now, making me wonder how I’d ever sleep.
“Hello?”
“Bedtime, princess. You need eight hours tonight—you’re going to be in for a long day.”
Nikki’s voice was no more or less demanding than usual. She had a way of delivering good and bad news with a kind of business-like monotone. Most times I’d greet bedtime, if I hadn’t already been asleep, with delight. Tonight, it felt like punishment.
“Yes, mother .”
“My timing is usually impeccable. Tell Ben hi, and don’t let him keep you up all night,” she said, and that thought brought even more heat to my cheeks.
I clicked the phone down into the receiver, silently marveling at the fact that hotels even had room phones anymore.
“Everything okay?” he asked, still standing where I’d left him.
“Yes. That was Nikki with my go to bed call. I have to be up early, and she seems to have guessed you’d be getting in late and that might distract me from my bedtime.”
I grinned as he looked down, almost shyly, though clearly pleased with me, or himself, or us—whatever it was, that smile made me hungry for more of them.
“I don’t want you to be too worn out. Let’s get you to bed,” he said gamely, and moved to get his bags.
I took a moment to look around the room. The suite was big, but in the end had only one bedroom and a living room. While I was a big name, I wasn’t someone who demanded the presidential suite when showing up for an awards dinner, nor did I want to spend the money to pay for it for the week I was there, so I took something far lower on the totem pole and didn’t mind that a bit.
Ben seemed to notice that at the same time I thought it and looked at me.
“Where should I…” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“So… that’s sort of up to you.” I gave him a bright, cheesy grin. Not natural, for sure, but I didn’t want him to feel pressured. “You can sleep with me, and by that I mean sleep—” I gave him my most earnest look, “—or we can fix up the sofa out here, which extends to a really nice bed.”
He gave a kind of resigned sigh and just looked at me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he seemed to feel defeated, and that, as with most things having to do with him, made my pulse race. I trotted over to him and hugged him around the waist as he stood there holding the bags. With my arms still around him, I looked up at him.
“I don’t have an ulterior motive. I went with the one bedroom because you’re only here one night. If you are uncomfortable, I will get you a separate room right now, no questions asked, and no drama. Please don’t feel?— ”
“I’m fine, Whit.” He dropped his bags and ran his hands over my back, through my long hair. “I have every confidence that we can share a room, as we’ve done many times. I’ll take the couch so you can sleep without my snoring waking you up, and you can come wake me up in the morning so I don’t miss a minute with you.”
I ignored the drop of disappointment that he didn’t opt to sleep with me, which felt embarrassing and a little sharp, but at the same time, he was probably right. I needed to rest well, and it’d be hard enough to do that knowing the day that awaited me, let alone if he really did snore.
“Do you really snore?” I asked, stepping back and picking up the garment bag so the suit I couldn’t wait to see him in didn’t wrinkle.
He gave me a smoldering look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I laughed then returned his look. “You know I would.”
He practically gulped, and my toes tingled at the effect I clearly had on him. It was too sweet, too sensitive. I loved it.
I ran a hand over my chin, over the raw feeling left from kissing him with his five o’clock shadow.
“Sorry,” he said, wincing. He smoothed his thumb over the undoubtedly red skin, frown lines bracketing his mouth.
“That’s what makeup’s for,” I said with a smile. Amanda could cover up anything, and this wouldn’t be a problem by morning. All it did was make me want to kiss him more.
“I’ll be sure to shave before I give you your good night kiss,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly.
“If you must.”