Chapter 9
Luke had come staggering in at about four in the morning, which Sabrina only knew because she'd only been back in their hotel room long enough to collapse into the bed before he arrived.
He fell face-forward onto the bed himself, pulled a pillow over his head, and Sabrina knew nothing else until her alarm went off at eight-thirty, which was just about the most inhumane time she could imagine after a late-night bachelorette party.
She fumbled for her phone, turned the alarm off, and before she could think about it, hauled herself out of bed toward the shower.
The hot water did far less to wake her up than she'd hoped, and the longer she stood there, the harder it was to get out again. Of course, Luke would probably want a shower, too, which meant…
…that he should come get in the shower with her, her mind supplied helpfully.
It was difficult to find a flaw in that conclusion, really. At least, with her current state of wakefulness, it was difficult. Sabrina was vaguely aware there were probably better answers, but for the moment, yeah, that one sounded good.
Sadly, nobody had told Luke about her clever solution, so he, being a good fake boyfriend who wouldn't presume, didn't join her in the shower.
Sabrina finally groaned and turned the water off, regretting every life choice she'd ever made.
Nothing could justify being up at this hour after a four a.m. bedtime.
Especially being up at this hour after a four a.m. bedtime when she had a hangover.
Not a terrible one, all things considered, but still, a hangover.
She dried off, pulled a comb through her hair, and too late realized she hadn't brought any clothes into the bathroom with her.
With another groan, she opened the bathroom door a few inches, trying to decide on the best approach for getting dressed. First question was whether she could turn a light on, except—
—the lights were already on, and the heavenly scent of coffee was percolating through the room. Sabrina, blinking in bleary astonishment, poked her head out of the bathroom and croaked, "Luke?"
"I remembered you drank coffee yesterday morning, so I made you some. Milk with two sugars, right? I haven't put it in yet in case I'm wrong," Luke called cheerfully.
Sabrina, still astonished, said, "Yes? That's perfect? I…is it safe for me to come out?"
"Of course. Do I need to avert my eyes?"
"I guess that depends on whether you're scandalized by women wearing towels." Apparently just the scent of coffee was doing wonders for her wakefulness, since she made it through that whole sentence like a functional human being.
"Scandalized isn't the word that comes to mind," Luke said, quietly enough that she didn't think she was meant to hear. Aloud, he said, "I'm good. Coffee awaits."
Sabrina wrapped a towel around her head so her hair wouldn't drip cold water down her spine and shuffled into the bedroom.
Luke was standing at the little table where the hotel provided coffee, water bottles, and a variety of snacks that probably cost an unholy amount of money if they were actually eaten.
Unlike her, Luke looked…perky. Vivacious, even, with his brown eyes bright and his short brown hair tousled.
He was still in last night's clothes, having slept in them.
Sabrina couldn't throw any stones on that topic: if she'd slept her in her pyjamas, she might have just put them back on before coming to get her clothes for today, but she hadn't wanted to put yesterday's sweated-in outfit back on.
"You really are a morning person, aren't you? "
"I really am," he said without a hint of apology. He did, however, hand her a coffee cup, which was a lot like an apology. She inhaled, closed her eyes, and took a sip before her eyebrows went up.
"That is…unexpectedly good. Did you go out and get something better than what the hotel provides? I wasn't in the shower that long."
"You were," Luke said with a cheeky grin, "but no, the coffee is weirdly good. But it's a fancy hotel, so."
That was true. The whole wedding party was staying in the same hotel, but Sabrina had splashed out for a really nice room, and had zero regrets about that.
The bed was huge and comfortable, the shower had great water pressure, and there was an extremely attractive man handing her surprisingly good coffee with just the right amount of milk and sugar in it.
This was, Sabrina thought, the life. "Thank you.
Er, for the coffee. I'm not responsible for the hotel. "
"You kind of are, since you're paying for it. But I know what you mean. Tell you what, unless you need the bathroom again, I'll go shower and you can get dressed?"
"Yeah, good plan." Sabrina blinked at him again, smiling now. "How can you be so awake? I know you didn't get more sleep than I did."
"Clean healthy living," Luke said sanctimoniously, then admitted, "That and I only had one cocktail at the start of the evening and drank water the rest of the night, so no hangover."
"Oh, that really is healthy living. Do you not drink?"
"I just said I had a cocktail," he pointed out as he headed for the bathroom. "But not much, no. It's not a thing, or anything. I just don't like alcohol very much."
"Are you actually real?" Sabrina asked as the bathroom door closed behind him, not because she wanted an answer, but because she wanted to say it out loud.
"Nobody is as wholesome as you are. Except Emmy," she had to admit to herself.
The entire Jones family that she'd met so far was, in fact, very wholesome.
Maybe it wasn't such a surprise that Luke was too.
With a smile, she shook her head and scurried to get dressed, feeling much more capable with half a cup of coffee in her.
Once she was at least decently clad, she grabbed her phone and texted The Girls with whose terrible idea was a 10am event after being out all night!
??! and giggled when Jan wrote back yugds, followed by YOURS and then The REST of us said ELEVEN.
What'd you listen to me for?!?!
Mindy's response sounded grumpy even in a text: Because you were right. No way we can do paddleboats and then also get ready for the rehearsal dinner if we start later than ten. Still a terrible idea.
Sabrina laughed and thumbs-upped it all. See you in the restaurant in a few.
She'd just about gotten her hair dry when the bathroom door slid open again and Luke, sounding sheepish, said, "I forgot my clothes too."
"You can come out, as I'm also not scandalized by men in towels, and won't gawk. Although I don't have coffee waiting for you, sorry."
"That's okay. I drank mine already." Luke emerged in his towel and a sheepish expression.
Sabrina, who had just finished saying she wouldn't gawk…gawked. There was no other word for it. She glanced his way in a polite sort of fashion, fully intending to immediately glance away again, but instead she blurted, "Jesus Lord. I mean. Uh. Sorry. But Jesus. Wow."
And then, as Luke Jones blushed over every visible inch of his body—and there were so many inches of his body visible—she remembered that he didn't take compliments well.
But in her defense: Jesus Lord. She'd thought she had gotten a good idea of the shape he was in from the tank top and gym shorts he'd been wearing when they first met, but she now knew that had been a tantalizing glimpse that had in no way prepared her for the truth.
He was just flawlessly sculpted, broad shoulders and a slim waist and hips that were disappointingly tucked into the towel.
Not particularly hairy, although she didn't know if that was natural or crafted. Either way she liiiiiiked it.
She'd kept thinking how big he was, and he was.
But now that he was wearing nothing but a towel, Sabrina realized he wasn't as muscle-bound as she'd originally thought.
He was just a really big man, strongly boned as well as muscular.
He didn't so much have muscles on his muscles as muscles on a really well-set-up frame, all of which was honed to his physical peak.
And that blush literally went below the towel's hem.
Sabrina finally squeaked, "Sorry!" and jerked her gaze away. It took every ounce of willpower she had to not immediately look back, though, because holy wow.
Luke, sounding genuinely mortified, mumbled something, grabbed his clothes, and fled into the bathroom to get dressed. As soon as he was gone, Sabrina clapped her hands over her heated cheeks, faced herself in the mirror, and hissed, "Get yourself together, girl!"
Her reflection didn't look like someone who wanted to get herself together.
Her reflection looked like someone who thought it would be a good idea to blow off breakfast and paddleboating in favor of following Luke into the bathroom and proposing that they stop having a fake relationship and get down to the business of having a real one.
A delicious, warm, sexy, laughing, joyful real one.
"You've known him two days," she whispered to her reflection. "Don't be an idiot."
The ridiculous thing was, it didn't feel idiotic at all.
Which had to be an unusually intense rush of hormones, because Sabrina did not normally think throwing caution to the wind was the way to go.
She was a planner, for heaven's sake. That's how she'd gotten as far as she had in her career already.
Intense planning, dedicated focus on the goal, and determination.
She probably just needed to go look at some nice architecture and that would get it all out of her system.
Luke came back out of the bathroom in a white t-shirt and jeans shorts, and she concluded architecture was not what it would take to get him out of her system. No way, no how.