Chapter 15
DOUBLE BOOKED
Aubrey
I have to stop thinking about them touching me.
Like, is there a brain eraser somewhere at the rental car counter at the tiny airport? Some potion I can take?
I can’t spend the whole trip picturing them pleasuring me.
Just focus on the day, the trip, the agenda.
That’s what I tell myself as we head to the SUV. I canceled the compact car I’d reserved at the city’s major airport, and Dev rented this one instead.
Dev holds open the passenger door.
We get inside and I yank on my seatbelt as Dev plugs the directions in his phone. We need to catch the early evening ferry to McDoodle Island.
But before he turns on the car, he toggles over to his music app. “First, we need a song to set the mood.”
“Another superstition?” I ask.
With a confident nod, he says, “Yup. You pick.”
“DJ privileges. Excellent,” I say, and this is good. This is trip stuff. It’s not dirty stuff.
Though, as I scroll through Dev’s music app, I’m not so sure anymore. The man likes seriously sexy music. Two Feet, The Weeknd, Sam Smith, Leon Bridges.
Not helpful, Dev.
Maybe I can find, I dunno, “Over the Rainbow” or “On the Good Ship Lollipop.” I pick Sam Smith and hope my hormones don’t go into overdrive. Though, doubtful.
I try to ignore the lyrics and the feel as best as I can as we cruise away from the municipal airport in Renton, heading toward the ferry that’ll take us across Puget Sound, whisking us to the edge of the state.
As we wind through the emerald city, towering evergreens hugging the road, I focus on the trip only.
I’m going to be the best travel companion ever.
“So what do you guys want to do first? I have a list of all sorts of fun possibilities. We can hike. Or go to Deception Pass,” I say, picturing the landmark of the region, a gorgeous bridge connecting two islands.
“Sounds good,” Dev says.
“And the grape stomping. We can do that too.”
“Cool,” Ledger says from the back seat.
I don’t stop. I want them to know I’ve planned a damn good time for us. “There’s an old logging town that’s supposedly like a ghost town now. I love ghost towns, and—”
“Aubs.” Dev’s voice is like a warning as he flicks the turn signal at a sign for the ferry terminal.
Shoot. Is he mad at me? For what?
“Yes?”
“I’m good with anything. We’re good with anything. You don’t have to be a tour guide. We’re gonna have fun,” he says, and there he goes again, reading me. Figuring me out.
I close my eyes for a second, feeling foolish for having tried so hard. But, in my defense, my libido’s been stealing the stage.
“We will,” I say.
Once we turn into the ferry lot, Dev heads down a lane for boarding and pays for the ride.
“It’s all good. We can play it by ear, or we can take turns planning each day,” he says, and dammit.
With those words—take turns—my mind’s off to the races again, picturing them taking turns with me as Sam Smith plays in the dimly lit hotel room.
We make small talk as we line up to drive onto the ferry, then as we hang out on the main deck overlooking the bright blue water of the sound.
But I’m taking in Dev, his messy hair, his bright eyes, his trim beard, his teal polo shirt.
Ledger, with his inked forearm, his trim haircut, his black shirt.
“That’s a nice shirt. You look good in black,” I say to Ledger, like I’m just giving friendly fashion advice.
He doesn’t answer right away. Just lets a slow, almost seductive smile form on his lush lips. “Good. Because my whole wardrobe is black,” he says.
“It is?”
“All my shirts are black. Different shades of black,” he says.
That’s kind of hot in a way I didn’t expect. Maybe because he’s a man who’s decided this is who I am. This is what I wear. That’s sexy, knowing yourself.
Just as Dev is sexy with his music playlist, his superstitions, and his big, open heart.
They’re different in ways that intrigue me and similar in ways that interest me. As the horn blasts, signaling the ferry’s pulling away, I’m struck with a crystal-clear realization.
I’m wildly attracted to both of them. Just like my friends predicted.
* * *
If anyone asked me what I talked about on the drive to the inn, I’d be hard-pressed to answer in any kind of intelligent detail.
My head is clogged with one potent thought—I almost got married yesterday and today I’m lusting wickedly after the two men I’m double honeymooning with.
Did I know they were attractive when I planned this trip with them late last night? Of course. But I didn’t expect to feel this shivery sensation that’s been wreaking havoc with my senses. Only, my lust is growing stronger, beating louder, spreading through my whole damn body.
When we pull up to the inn, it’s like I’m floating on a cloud of delectable cologne. Cedar and soft suede, the scent of Dev. Nighttime and the ocean, signaling Ledger.
As we get out of the car, I draw a big inhale of the faint sea breeze air, hoping it recalibrates me.
Once I get to the suite, I’ll go to my room with its own en-suite bathroom. I’ll get my bearings. I’ll take a shower. Wash the dirty thoughts out of my head. Deal with the trip and shelve this lust.
With my suitcase and resolve in hand, I go inside with my brother’s best friends.
Blackberry Inn isn’t a tiny B and B. It has maybe fifty to seventy-five rooms and it’s spread out over a cliff, overlooking the water.
I home in on the details in the lobby. The walls are painted a rich orange, contrasting with the wooden beams on the ceiling.
Vintage maps line the walls, nestled alongside sea glass artwork. It’s rustic meets modern.
At the front desk, a man with ginger hair, freckles sprinkled across his pale skin, and small brown eyes greets us. “Good afternoon. Are you checking into the Blackberry Inn?”
His accent is British, which is unusual in the Pacific Northwest.
“Yes, we are…Harry…” Ledger says, reading the name tag indicating he’s the general manager, but then Ledger stops short at the last name.
Titterington. That’s, um, a mouthful. Clearing his throat, Ledger starts again.
“Aubrey Emerson. We called last night to change it from the honeymoon suite to a three-room suite.”
Harry flashes a professional ready-to-help smile. “Ah yes, the family suite. Very popular.” Harry scans the computer. Squints. “When did you say you called?”
“Last night,” Ledger adds. He’s calm, but my pulse speeds up. Harry’s question concerns me.
“Yes, last night,” I repeat, like that’ll help Harry find it faster.
“Right. I see a note about the request,” he says.
“Oh, good. I thought it was missing,” I say, relieved since I don’t want anything going wrong on this trip. Not after the fiasco of my whole damn wedding.
The manager winces and then offers an I’m about to disappoint you smile. “The thing is…”
“You don’t have our reservation,” I blurt out.
“We do,” Harry reassures me. “But it seems whoever took your change last night was mistaken. We can’t make any changes to a non-refundable booking.”
He flashes a smile that both says sorry and you’re shit out of luck.
“But the person I spoke to last night said it was no problem. That you upgrade all the time,” I say, panic rising in me right along with my pitch.
Harry, help a girl out! How am I supposed to share a room with these two men and all my desire?
It’s like an elephant tromping around. I’ll call her Ellie the Elephant. She’s a very dirty girl.
Another grin from the man behind the counter.
This one says he’s a brick wall. A nice brick wall but an unscalable one, nonetheless.
“Yes, and I do regret the misunderstanding. I’ll have to see who was staffing the phones last night and educate them on the policy.
But our non-refundable suites are also not changeable.
” He swivels his tablet screen around to show me the policy, like that’ll soothe the wild thrashing of lust and worry in my chest.
“Harry,” Dev says with his customary warmth, “I hear ya. And that makes perfect sense. But you probably have other rooms. I’d be happy to handle it,” he says, and I can’t let him pay for another room. He already booked a private freaking jet.
I set a hand on Dev’s arm. His very big, very strong, very touchable arm. “You don’t have to,” I say, taking my hand off right away. I don’t need more temptation.
Dev’s green eyes meet mine, flickering with tenderness and concern. “I know. I want to. For you,” he says, holding my gaze.
My heart pounds.
I feel foolish for not wanting to share with them.
It’ll be fine. Of course it’ll be fine. I handled getting dumped at the altar yesterday.
I’ve handled my mother’s emotions for the last few years.
I’ve weathered the grief of my father’s death.
There is no need for my little internal freak-out.
Ellie the Elephant will be fine, and so will I.
“It’ll be fine,” I say, meaning it. “I swear.”
“We want you to have a good trip,” Ledger puts in.
Dev turns back to the man with the magic tablet, trying again. “Can you get us some more rooms?”
One more sorry smile comes our way. “We don’t have any other suites available. There’s a wine festival in town and every room is booked.” Harry pauses, peering at the screen again. He holds up a finger. “This is interesting.”
He found a room! For Ellie the Elephant and me. “You found something?”
His brow knits, then he lifts his face. “It seems whoever made the change last night put you in our Ultra-Deluxe Honeymoon Suite instead of the Deluxe Honeymoon Suite.”
I perk up. “Does it have three beds?”
Harry shakes his head. “No, but the tub is bigger.”
Oh, great. Thanks, Harry. I’ll just put my lust in the tub for the next few days. No problem.
“Thanks,” I say.
“And the beds are bigger too. So, there you go.”
Wait! There’s hope on the horizon from Harry Titterington. “Bedssssss?”
I mean, surely there are honeymoon suites somewhere, someplace, with beds plural? Like, for sets of twins honeymooning together. That has to be a thing.
“This suite has one very big bed.”
One big bed for my brother’s two best friends and me.