18. Oakley
EIGHTEEN
OAKLEY
About an hour later, we arrive at the hotel, and Lowen releases a relieved breath. “No media out front yet.”
“That’s good.”
He directs me to the parking garage, and after finding a spot, I exit the car and gather our things while Lowen leans against the hood, scrolling on his phone.
“Whatcha looking at?”
“Socials. Checking to see if anything is going on.”
“Hey.” He looks up at me as I step forward, pressing against him. “Try to have fun with all of this, huh? You earned it and you’re not walking into the viper pit alone.”
His features soften and he nods. “Good reminder. Thank you.”
I lean in and kiss his cheek, earning a smile. “Come on, kitten. Let’s go check in.”
He takes his overnight bag, clutching the leather handles and looking like he just stepped onto a photo shoot for something expensive. I never in a million years would’ve thought from his exterior that he and I would click so well on so many levels, but that’s why you don’t judge people on their outside appearance.
His heels click across the marble floors of the hotel lobby, and when the woman behind the desk glances up, she smiles brightly.
“Mr. Ainsley, welcome to The Sanctuary. Your room is ready for you.”
“Thank you.” Lowen’s expression is aloof but serene, as if he’s quite used to people knowing his name on sight.
I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a celebrity, but I have a feeling I’ll get a taste of it this week. He signs a slip and nods as the clerk hands him a set of key cards. When he turns to me, his smile fades as his gaze flickers over my shoulder.
“What is it, kitten?”
“Incoming.”
I look over my shoulder to find a group of people heading in our direction from the bar, armed with cameras and microphones.
“Mr. Ainsley! Lowen!”
His body visibly tenses as he leans into me. Reaching down, I grip his free hand and hold on tight. “I’ve got you, Low.”
He nods, keeping his gaze on the horde of people. They throw several questions at him about being honored, being back in the states, what he’s been doing since he left Paris, and who the man next to him is. After a moment, Lowen raises his hand and they instantly fall silent. Wow.
Adopting that strange mellow smile again, he speaks. “One question at a time please.”
A young man dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, but with bright yellow hair steps forward. “Welcome back stateside, Lowen,” he says, and Lowen nods. “We’re excited to hear about your newest projects. Can you share anything with our readers now?”
“I’ve returned to my original passion of residential work, where I can focus on transforming individual rooms and improving the lives of those who inhabit the space.”
I try to keep my expression neutral, aware I’m being watched, but it’s so odd seeing Lowen morph into someone I barely recognize. Even his voice is clipped and almost accented, but there’s no inflection or excitement in his tone. It’s monotone and direct.
“Do you miss Paris?” a woman asks.
“No.” He doesn’t elaborate.
“There’s a rumor you opened a gay bar outside the city,” another man asks. “Is that true?”
Lowen tenses even more, but his expression doesn’t slip at all. “It’s not a rumor and it’s a queer bar. There’s a distinction there.”
His delivery makes it real clear he doesn’t plan to discuss it further.
“Who’s this handsome man beside you?” a different woman asks.
Lowen’s expression finally softens, his pretty blue gaze shifting to me and holding mine. “This is Oakley, my fiancé.”
The group titters with excitement, snapping photos of us, but Lowen keeps gazing at me and squeezing my hand.
“He’s made my transition back to the states…” Lowen pauses as his smile grows. “Better than I anticipated.”
The engagement may be fake, but those words aren’t.
“Do you have a date set?” someone asks.
Lowen shakes his head. “We’re very busy right now, but we’ll know when the time is right.” Then he neutralizes his expression, turning back to face the crowd. “It will be a private affair with only friends and family and there won’t be a single announcement about it.”
Fuck, he’s sexy commanding a group like this. It’s clear he’s had lots of practice too.
“Are you a designer too?” a woman asks me.
“I’m a contractor.”
“Ooh,” one of the men says.
Was that exciting news?
“If you’ll excuse us,” Lowen says. “We’d like to get settled in before the events begin.”
He tugs my hand and we walk in the opposite direction of the group to the elevator bank. Once we’re out of hearing distance, he exhales.
“I’m guessing the hotel allowed them to stay in the bar area as long as they don’t cause trouble.”
“That was something to witness.” I press the Up button. “You transformed before my eyes.”
“It’s my well-worn media shield. It’s the only positive thing Alain ever taught me. In my head, it’s as if I really do retreat behind an invisible wall where their intrusions don’t affect me.”
“It’s impressive.”
He scoffs as the doors open and he steps in. “I suppose. I admit I’m more than shocked that no one mentioned Alain. I couldn’t go half a day without hearing his name in Paris.”
“Maybe they got over it.”
“Unlikely. That particular group wasn’t brave enough, but someone will be.” Surprising me, he leans against me, resting his head on my shoulder. “I literally couldn’t do this without you, so thank you again.”
I kiss the top of his head. “My pleasure, kitten.”
When the elevator dings for our floor, he straightens up and adopts that cold, neutral gaze. Not gonna lie, there’s something so sexy about the way he can shift easily between his two personas. Can’t wait to see how I can melt that icy exterior later.
We walk to the room and I unlock the door as Lowen waits behind me, peeling out of his coat. Once we’re inside, his shoulders relax and he plops down in a cushy armchair, dropping everything he was holding.
I haven’t moved from the doorway, still taking it all in. Everything is marble and glass, expensive-looking upholstery, and dark wood trim. I’ve been in a few nice hotels in my day, but this is something else.
“Is this the kind of place you stayed in while you were in Paris?”
“This is the kind of place we designed.”
“Fancy.”
Lowen chuckles, gesturing for me to walk over to him. I stand in front of him, leaning down to grip the arms of the chair, stopping just inches from his gorgeous face.
“It’s a whole new world for me.”
Gazing up, he licks his lips. “When you have it all the time, it loses its shine, but it’s nice for a change of pace.”
“You look good here. Like you were always part of it. But I gotta be honest.”
A crease appears between his brow as he nods.
“You know I think you’re pretty—stunning, actually—and yeah, you fit in here, but it’s not who you really are. It’s a part of you maybe, but it’s not my spicy kitten that I’ve known for almost a year.”
Lowen nods, a slight smile gracing his lips. “Until recently, people mostly treated me like I was part of the decor, another pretty trinket adorning the room. It took a while for people to realize and acknowledge that I had a brain and talent in addition to what I look like.” He reaches up and cups my face. “But my friends and you, you guys always see the real me behind the facade of the high-end designer. Maybe that’s why…” He pauses, shaking his head.
“Why what?”
“Why it was so easy to let my guard down a little with you. I know you appreciate my exterior, but you see the whole me.”
And I love every bit.
I have to bite my tongue not to drop that little bomb on him. He doesn’t need it right now.
“All I want is to see you happy, whatever that looks like. You deserve it.”
“I think so too.” He tugs on my sweater. “Are you just gonna hover there or are you gonna kiss me?”
“If I kiss you, I’ll mess up your lipstick.”
“Fun fact: I have more.”
“Good news.”
I lean in and press my lips to his, tasting the slight strawberry hint of his lips just as he parts them and dips his tongue between mine. Sinking to my knees, I spread his legs apart and deepen the kiss, gripping the back of his neck while rubbing his nipples through the sheer blouse. I want to peel him out of his gorgeous clothes and remind him of all the ways I appreciate him, but as I start to untuck the blouse, the phone in his pocket buzzes and he groans.
“Why do I think this is going to be some sort of request,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Better answer it.”
He pulls the phone from his pocket, gazing at the screen with narrowed eyes. “Oh goodie. The organizers heard I checked in and would just like a few minutes of my time.”
“Duty calls, huh?”
“Unfortunately.” He gestures at the obvious bulge between his legs. “What do I do with this?”
“I have a few suggestions.” I adjust my own bulge, bringing a genuine smile to his lips. “Raincheck?”
He nods. “Raincheck.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, standing and composing his clothes.
“Do you want me to come with you or stay up here?”
He looks at me like I’ve turned green before his eyes. “I want you with me. At all times, mister.”
“You got it, gorgeous.”
“Might want to wipe your face too. Smudged lipstick isn’t your look.”
Chuckling, I rub at my lips. “Fair.”
I watch Lowen dig in his overnight bag and pull out another smaller bag, then head to the bathroom while I look out the windows at the massive pool below. Even closed, it’s still a nice area.
When Lowen reappears, his lipstick is perfect again and his bitch face is in place. “I’m ready.”
“Stunning.” I offer my arm and he takes it. “By the way, if I do too much, just let me know. Maybe a secret code word.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Secret code word?”
“Sure. If I do something you don’t like, you just say the word and I’ll know to rein it in.”
“Fine. I doubt it’ll be necessary, but why not?”
“What’s your least favorite food?”
“Hmm.” He taps his chin for a second. “I hate walnuts, and they’re in so many things.”
Chuckling, I nod. “Walnuts it is.”
We head out of the room and back down to the lobby in silence. I can sense how nervous he is by the way he clutches my arm, and when the elevators open on the bottom floor, he blows out a breath, squares his shoulders, and walks out with his head high.
We navigate the hallway to the lobby on our way to the bar, and then he stops. I follow his gaze and know exactly what he sees. It’s him.
“Alain is here.”
Leaning in, I kiss his temple. “He can’t do anything to you. This is your house, Lowen.”
He turns to me, his eyes slightly panicked, then right before my eyes, he erases all emotion, displaying nothing more than the perfect public face he’s cultivated.
“Time to raise some hell,” he whispers.
“That’s my spicy kitten.”