Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Elise
T he man sat and read wearing his glasses for a solid twenty minutes before I lost my mind enough and had to speak.
“I like your glasses. Have you had them long?”
Abrupt and absolutely out of nowhere for him, but the only thing I’d been thinking. Well, that and don’t look at the beautiful man with his mussed hair and thick frames and the serious notch between his brows while he holds an honest to goodness book or ye shall perish plus a dozen little bookish side quests thanks to the current view.
I knew myself and what I could handle. This felt like… more than that.
I’d thought I could handle the bed situation. I mean, I really had myself convinced, what with the king-size of it all.
But this?
No one warned me about the glasses. I had seen him slip them on and off at the shop but somehow it’d never occurred to me he’d wear them at home. Here. All kinds of willy nilly in the bed.
And somehow, the messy hair was killing me, too. He’d tugged at it once or twice while reading in a mindless way I found charming but now that I’d touched said hair, I wanted my hands in it again. I wanted his face pressed to mine, his lips, his hands…
“For just a year or so now, and only for reading. Do they bother you?”
I blinked. Did they bother me? If I hadn’t met his grandfather, I might’ve been more perplexed by his question, but what really informed me was my experience with my ex. Because this was exactly how I would’ve responded to a statement about some feature or part of an outfit.
My heart twisted in my chest.
“What? No, of course not. They look great on you. They’re—honestly, they’re really hot.” When in a frantic scramble to make sure someone doesn’t feel awkward, make it super awkward by mentioning how ragingly attracted you are to them.
While in their house.
In their bed.
Both of you in your pajamas.
It’s fine!
But it wasn’t fine because the half-smile that tugged at one side of his mouth sent a wave of heat crashing over me, and the dark brow rising to punctuate it should’ve come with a warning label.
“Really hot?” he asked, setting his book aside and leaning over like he might climb toward me, the smile fully notched up now.
Oh, no no no. We couldn’t have that. He could not touch me right now, not after the kisses and the reassurances and the walking out on his jerk grandpa and his vulnerability in the kitchen and the glasses… nope.
“No! You—” I laughed, the expression on his face so pleased and boyish. “You cannot come over here.” I slapped a pillow down in the space between us like a fence and couldn’t hide the embarrassed smile taking over my face. “I mean it. You’re—no. You can’t cross this line. That’s the only way this works. Otherwise, it’s the floor for you, sir.”
He held my gaze, essentially waving a match right next to a fire, and nodded ever so slowly. “Alright, Elise. Sweet dreams.”
“You, too,” I scraped out, certain that if I did sleep, my dreams would in fact be very sweet.
Any time with him was, and I could only hope he would show up in my dreams.
I rolled over away from him and shut off the lamp light. A few seconds later, his went out, too, and we were shrouded in darkness. I’d never paused to think about how intimate it was to simply breathe the same air as someone in the dark, to simply be with them and not lost in all sorts of self-conscious rabbit holes, but even separated by the space between us, this felt… weighty.
Could I actually hear him thinking? Could he hear me? The room felt full of desires and expectations and unspoken words.
And I knew with certainty I had to stay put. We were getting closer every day and before I knew it, it’d all be over. I couldn’t afford to get wrapped up in Luc and suffer the hurt of a breakup when we were done here, when the whole point of this was to convince Callum he had no shot with me no matter what kind of nonsense he pulled. The additional benefit was a chance to think of someone other than myself and enjoy distraction from my own life.
This was never supposed to become my own life, but when sleep finally pulled me under, there was no denying it simply was.
* * *
Luc was gone when I woke up. I recalled him slipping out of bed and me saying something like, “Have fun,” before he was gone. I lazed around enjoying the fact that I didn’t have to be at Glazed since Marisol was manning the helm today because of the gala.
I spent the day reading and taking care of some admin work, then signing into my PA job in the afternoon to check that box. I was so sick of this grind but also grateful for the padding.
Luc wouldn’t be happy to know I considered texting Callum to make sure he wasn’t going to force the sale, but my heart had pounded so loudly in my head when I pulled up his name, I’d taken that as a warning sign. If he was going to do something like that, he’d have to get my permission. I had no intention of giving it. So that meant no news was good news.
Right?
I needed it to be right, and so I embraced it as such. After showering to freshen up, I was slicing an apple in the kitchen for a snack before starting my hair and makeup for the gala when Aurelie burst into the house followed by several people with large black cases and one person with an entire rack of wrapped clothing.
“Uh, hello. What’s going on?” I asked, shoving a slice of apple into my mouth before whatever this was exploded all over my snack time.
Aurelie fluttered over to me on tiptoes and held out her hands. Instinctively, I gave her mine.
“This is our gala prep team. We’ve got hair”— she waved at a tall man with blond hair artfully swirling up like a wave on his head and a wide smile who twiddled his fingers at me, “makeup,”—she grinned at a woman with stunning cat eyes, deep red lips, and a purple Leia bun on one side of her head with the other shaved, “and styling.” The final woman offered a nod toward me as she used both hands to unwrap the dresses hanging from the portable clothing rack.
“Wait. I hadn’t planned on any of this. Luc said he’d send some dress options, but…” My words faded out as I realized this wasn’t Luc’s doing. Maybe the dresses were, but more likely, this was all thanks to the maniac smiling so broadly, I could practically feel the elation rolling off her in waves.
I chuckled and accepted my fate, ignoring the twinge of excitement in favor of staying grumpy for one more minute. “You and my friends would get along.” If Jo and Dove were here—heck, if any of them were here, they’d be delighted.
She pouted, pushing her plush lips out into a ridiculous frown. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who hates dressing up?”
Her pout might’ve seemed silly, but her tone and the disappointment in her eyes were clear. I didn’t want her to be sad, and I wasn’t against dressing up.
“No, not necessarily. It’s just intimidating. I don’t normally mix with these crowds.” Even though I knew many of the people who’d be there tonight, Silverton residents or otherwise, I didn’t normally parade around in evening gowns. The two cocktail dresses this last week had been a stretch as it was.
Aurelie’s energy perked up again. “You belong there, just as anyone does. But to make sure you look the part, and therefore feel every bit like you own the place, we’ve got reinforcements.” She winked at me, then smiled over at the team. “And when my brother sees you, he’s going to want to move the wedding date up. But if you don’t want any of it, say the word. Are you in?”
My stomach flipped at the thought of seeing Luc. I’d gotten glimpses of him in tuxes at various events—the film fest in the fall and maybe some other thing the Saint men had to do in their line of duty that entailed looking all badass and also wear a tux like they were our own local James Bonds.
I hadn’t fully thought about how powerful it might be to see him up close and personal in a tux. As my date.
As my fiancé.
The ring he’d given me, the absolutely stunning perfection of a ring, warmed my finger. I fiddled with it for a moment, drawing in a long, steadying breath. “I’m in.”
No matter that I’d just shared a bed with the man for the first time ever last night. No matter that my heart reacted far too intensely any time I heard his name, thought of him, or actually saw him.
I’d show up looking fabulous and play the part he’d asked me to play. Tonight was essentially our big finale.