Chapter 26 And the Ottoman
And the Ottoman
Darcy
I’m face down on the bed. But still, the sunlight begins to invade my consciousness.
Bright sunlight. It’s so mean. Yet my body is relaxed, almost liquid with satisfaction. And consciousness comes slowly, reluctantly—as if my subconscious knows better than to wake up and face reality.
When my eyes flicker open, I’m not in my own bed. I see fine white hotel linens. And when I let my eyes travel farther, the reality of the situation crashes into me with devastating clarity.
Eric. Last night. Hovering over me in this bed.
After the ottoman.
And the shower.
A delicious shiver ripples through me as memories flood back—his hands, his mouth, the way he’d whispered my name against my skin.
Exactly as I’d always craved. No, better.
The satisfaction I’d felt was more potent than just sexual gratification.
With each kiss, it’s like my whole soul said finally.
But now he knows. He saw exactly how I really feel about him. Last night I let it all show. Every moan. Every bite mark that I left on his body. Every time I yelled his name.
The realization is so intense I have to close my eyes again for a moment, just to steady myself. When I open them, I take in his bare arm at close range. The muscles flex slightly as he taps on a laptop set up on the mattress beside me.
The problem is that I didn’t think this far ahead. I don’t have a script for this moment. I know I’m supposed to play it cool, except I’m not a very good actor.
Keep it together, Kendrick. I sneak another glance at him, trying to read his expression. Will he be awkward, too? Or even regretful?
“What are you doing?” I ask, and it comes out a little rough.
He gives me a glance, and I get my first glimpse of those gray eyes. He looks… comfortable. Like waking up next to me is the most natural thing in the world. And maybe that’s almost worse.
This is just a fling, I remind myself. Even if last night felt like the most honest thing I’ve experienced in years.
“Waiting for you to wake up,” he says. “So we can order room service.” He gives me a quick smile, and my body temperature climbs three degrees.
That smile should be illegal. I’ve seen it a thousand times, but never like this—never from this close, never with the memory of it pressed against my lips.
“And I’m reading tips for how to succeed in a hedge maze. ”
“Um, sorry?” I manage, trying desperately to gather my scattered thoughts.
He shifts one of his knees on the bedsheet, nudging my leg. “The hedge maze is the next activity in the Wedding Experience. Get with the program, Kendrick. An hour from now, we need to get through faster than the rest of them.”
My sleepy brain tries to make sense of this. “There’s no championship cup, Tremaine. So this is for pride?” Because I think I lost mine the second I scaled him like a tree in the elevator last night.
Right before all the clothes were tossed onto the floor. And the heated skin on skin…
“Winning is fun, but that’s not the point,” he says, breaking through my steamy memories.
“Do you want to spend all day in a maze? Because I have better things to do. Like hitting the beach and finding out whether or not you packed that green bikini. Rubbing sunscreen all over your back…” His gray eyes tilt in my direction again, but they look heated.
“And that’s just the early part of the day. ”
My pulse flutters. “Okay. Well. So what have you learned about hedge mazes? Aren’t you supposed to turn right every time or something?”
“Yes and no. Look.” He waves me toward his screen. “There’s a caveat. If the maze has an island feature, you can get stuck in a loop. Like this.”
He’s showing me the basic strategy when a text message pops onto his screen.
Maribel: Bet you two can’t beat us through the maze!
“You see that?” he says. “I’m not the only one thinking about this.” His fingers tap out a reply.
Eric: Bet we can! Unless you’ve been practicing beforehand.
Maribel: GASP! We would never invite all our friends to a maze and then cheat! The fact that this occurred to you is worrisome. How do I know you didn’t look at Google Earth?
He turns to me, wide-eyed. “Oh, hell. That never occurred to me.”
“Don’t do it,” I insist. “We have principles. Except when it comes to deceiving our families.”
His smile turns sultry, and his gaze dips to where the sheet is barely concealing my breasts. “Looking pretty legit, Darcy. Not sure there’s any deception to worry about here.”
My face reddens because it’s true. This morning, anyway. “Want coffee?”
He lifts a hand to his throat, checking his pulse. “Yup. Still breathing. And let’s order breakfast.”
“Okay. I’m on it.” The problem is that I don’t have a stitch of clothing on my body or anywhere near this bed.
When I slip out of the covers and cross to the closet, Eric watches my every move with a sexy little smile on his face.
How is this my life?
If only temporarily.
An hour or so later, we’re outside on an emerald-green lawn, waiting our turn in the maze, the entrance to which is guarded by Tessa. She’s in her element, holding a stopwatch and telling everyone where to stand and when to move.
And yet her abrasiveness can’t even put a dent in me today. I’m too blissed out after eating breakfast with Eric in a hotel bathrobe. And by the way, he’s holding my hand.
“One-minute warning, Eric,” she says, consulting her clipboard. “Your start time is 10:14. When you reach the exit, my mom will note your time. But you can take a picture of the clock if you want proof.”
Eric and I exchange a glance. “Got it,” he says, squeezing my hand.
Once again, a feeling of unreality settles over me. Somehow, the Wedding Experience has already become one of the best weekends of my life. Who knew?
“On your mark,” Tessa says, squinting at the stopwatch. “Get set. Annnnnnd go!”
Eric’s grip on my hand tightens, and he launches us toward the entrance. Laughing, I hurry to keep up. As we make the first turn to the left, the walls of boxwood encircle us, and we’re enveloped in a world of green.
“Okay… second turn.” Eric’s grip on my hand is firm but gentle. “Let’s keep an intermediate pace—not too fast that we miss a turn, not too slow that we lose our competitive edge.” He sounds like he’s briefing troops before a special ops mission.
“Roger that, Captain.”
“Maintaining wall contact is essential,” he says, stretching to run his fingertips along the boxwood. “This is how the ancient Greeks defeated the Minotaur.”
“I’m pretty sure that was Theseus with a ball of string.”
“Details, Kendrick.” He checks his watch like a drill sergeant. “Deep breaths. And remember, we’re not just beating the maze, we’re beating Theo and Maribel’s time.”
“Let’s make ’em cry.” We trot along for several minutes, taking every left turn with military precision until we reach a small circular clearing with a bench. “Wait,” I say, tugging Eric’s hand. “Didn’t we pass this bench already?”
He stops, frowning at the ornate wooden seat. “Did we?”
“I recognize that heart-shaped water stain.” I point to the distinctive mark on the wood.
“Hell.” Realization dawns on his handsome face. “We’re in a loop. There must be an island structure. Glad you noticed. I didn’t. Rookie mistake.” He sighs.
“Chin up, Captain. Time to think like the Minotaur.”
He snorts. “Okay, new strategy. Time for advanced techniques.” He pulls out his phone and checks the time with a grimace.
“We’ve already burned seven minutes. No time to backtrack.
Let’s… go up instead.” Before I can ask what he means, he’s crouching down with his hands linked together.
“Climb on my shoulders. You can see over the top and map our route.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely.” His face is set with determination. “It’s a legitimate maze strategy. I read about it this morning.”
“Along with your breathing techniques and ancient Greek mythology?”
He gives me a look that’s half exasperation, half amusement. “Just get on my shoulders, Kendrick. It’s almost bikini time.”
“When you put it like that…” I place my foot in his cupped hands, wobbling slightly as he hoists me up.
His grip on my legs is steady as I rise above the hedge line.
“Oh, wow,” I say, taking in the intricate pattern of greenery below me.
“I can see the whole thing! There’s definitely an island in the middle—that’s why we’re stuck. ”
“Can you see the exit?”
“Yes! We need to backtrack and take the next right, then left, then right again.”
“That’s my girl,” he says, and the casual endearment makes my heart flutter. “Remember, we’re not cheating—we’re strategically adapting.”
As he lowers me carefully to the ground, I spot something over his shoulder that makes me burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“Hey, Maribel!” I wave to where Theo has hoisted her onto his shoulders about fifty yards away. She waves cheerfully when she spots us.
Eric shakes his head. “Great minds…”
“Or desperate competitors,” I counter as he grabs my hand again.
“Stay sharp! Maribel has the same advantage now.”
We race through the turns I’d plotted out. The lush green walls look different from this angle, though, and for the next fifty paces, I worry that I’ve gotten it wrong. But no! When we make the final turn, I see the opening ahead.
Eric hoots with glee, and we both break into a sprint. And when we clear the exit, Theo and Maribel are nowhere in sight.
“Yes!” Eric pumps his fist. “Where’s Kandi? I thought she was going to record our time?”
I spin around in a quick circle. Then I spot her in a loud orange sundress. She’s leaning over someone who’s seated on the ground.
My father. And he’s clutching his chest, his face contorted in alarm.
“Oh shit,” Eric says.
“Dad!” I rush over, dropping to my knees beside him. “What happened?”
“He just collapsed,” Kandi says, her voice trembling. “He’s having chest pains.”
My father grimaces. “I didn’t collapse. I sat down. Just need to catch my breath. Help me up?” he says to Eric, his face red from either pain or embarrassment.
Either way, I don’t like the look of this. Not at all. His expression is pinched, and his breathing is labored.
“You’re going to the ER, and that’s final,” Kandi says, her voice shaking.
“Great idea,” Eric says in his calm captain’s voice. “And I have a plan for how. Give me sixty seconds.” Then he takes off at a trot toward a golf cart that belongs to the grounds crew. He flags them down as he runs.
The worker stops, and within seconds, Eric has commandeered the vehicle.
“Get me off the damn ground!” my father barks, embarrassment coloring his face.
But if he were really okay, he’d get himself off the ground. “In a second,” I say quickly.
Footsteps pound behind us as Theo and Maribel arrive, breathless and concerned. “Dad!” Theo drops to the grass. “What happened?”
“Shortness of breath,” I say quickly, before my father can whitewash the whole event. “He needs to be checked out by a doctor.”
“I’ll go, too,” Theo says, helping Dad to his feet, as Eric drives up in the golf cart.
“How about we take Kandi instead?” I put my hands on my brother’s shoulders and force him to look at me. “You and Maribel stay with your guests. We’ll call you from the ER.”
“Okay,” Theo says slowly. “But you’ll call, right? Or text?”
“Promise,” I insist.
“What about Tessa?” my father asks gruffly. “Make an excuse for me.”
“Don’t tell her anything’s wrong,” Kandi adds. “Not until we know something. You know how she gets.”
Maribel nods, squeezing Theo’s arm. “We’ll handle things here. Just don’t forget to text us.”
Eric helps my father into the cart, then slides behind the wheel. I get into the little back seat, along with Kandi. And as Eric puts the cart into motion, I study my father’s back as it rises and falls with every breath.
This is very bad, I realize. He’d told me everything was under control. But it clearly isn’t.
Eric drives us right to the parking lot, and Kandi points out her car. “Want me to drive you to the hospital?” he asks.
“Please,” she says tearfully.
A captain’s work is never done. And I have never been more grateful.