Beckett’s brows drew together, and he stepped closer. “Let me call someone for you. Sloane? What’s her number?” Beckett’s finger poised over the phone.
I shook my head, then winced. Every movement hurt. “I don’t want to talk to her.”
“Someone else then?”
Gabi or Thatcher would be there for me, but I was too embarrassed to call them. There was no one else. I’d been on my own since high school.
“No. There’s no one.”
Beckett swiped a finger over his phone, then held it to his ear. “I’m calling Peppy,” he told me. “I promised her updates.” Beckett walked to the fireplace and sat on the chair where he’d spent most of the night. “Hey,” he said into the phone. “She’s fine. Finally awake.”
Beckett’s eyes met mine, and he forced a smile. My cheeks flushed. His glasses were a little crooked. I studied him, trying to decide if he was cute or sexy. The final verdict: both.
“Can you call Sloane and let her know Lacey is fine?” Beckett asked. “I’ve got her. She’s resting.”
I tried to get up again, but Beckett jabbed a finger at the bed. I sighed and sank back into the pillows.
“Hi, Summer.” Beckett’s voice softened. “How’s it going so far?” Beckett paused, listening. “Aslan’s fine. He’s been a big help this morning.”
I reached down and patted Aslan’s head.
Beckett said good-bye and came back to stand over the bed. “Peppy has been worried about you. She thinks it’s her fault this happened.”
“It’s not her fault.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s mine.”
“What?”
“That’s my bar.” He tossed his phone on the nightstand. “My hotel. If people think they can come into an establishment owned by the Vinroots and drug a woman, something needs to change.”
I suppressed a laugh. “You’re not arrogant at all.”
“And you’re not sarcastic.”
The air sizzled between our stares.
“I’m sure you own a few bars.”
Beckett raised an eyebrow.
“More than a few?”
He gave a terse nod.
“You can’t control what people do in a bar.”
“We need to step up our security at the Inn.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Bouncers at the bar. More valets.”
I held back another laugh. “Bouncers at Sky Valley Vineyards?” I pictured muscle-bound men dressed in black, sitting on stools in the elegant lobby. “I can’t imagine that working. I think you’re overreacting. We don’t even know what happened.”
“Don’t tell me you still think you got food poisoning.”
I closed my eyes, suddenly tired again. “I don’t know what happened.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
I scrolled through my memories. I remembered kissing Xan. It had been a lovely kiss, even though it didn’t make my heart race like the mere thought of Beckett’s sensual mouth anywhere near mine did. We’d danced some more. We’d drunk some more. Gabi and Mia left. The cold air outside the inn. The hard stone of the tile. Beckett’s jacket under my cheek. His arms around me…
