Holler if I need anything?
Well, Lachlan Hayes.
I’m worried I’m beginning to need you.
ChapterThirty-One
LACHLAN
“You hadto know we’d only get one hotel room.”
“Sure,”Olivia said as she followed me down the hall of the Grand Embassy Hotel. “Of course, I did.” Two weeks after I came home from San Francisco, Olivia was well out of quarantine, back to work, and looking as beautiful as my next heartbreak.
I stopped at room 366 and flashed the keycard until the lock clicked. “Then maybe you could turn down the look of horror on your face?”
Olivia leaned against the wall, gorgeous in a black turtleneck sweater and jeans. Her lips pressed together, as if smothering a smile. “It’s jet lag.”
I turned, the two of us standing in our own little alcove in front of our door, shielded from prying eyes and the stray passersby. “From a four-hour drive?”
“I haven’t slept much this week.”
I leaned closer and watched the pulse in her neck skitter. “Thinking of me, Livvy?”
She didn’t back away and didn’t give an inch. Not that I expected her to. Not my Olivia.
She licked her lips, her eyes steady on mine. “I did have a hot dream about you last night.”
This sounded interesting. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yes,” she said. “We got divorced in Arizona. It’s very steamy there.”
My new obsession was ruffling Olivia. I no longer lived for food or oxygen, but moments when she was thrown off balance and pulled out of her buttoned-up, control-freak bubble. “I’ve caught you checking me out,” I told her.
She did not find this amusing. “No, you haven’t.”
“I have. Sometimes I’ll find you staring at me in total adoration.”
“I think the word you’re looking for isbefuddlement.”
“That’s French forlust, right?” Before Olivia could snark back, I flung open the door, grabbed her hand, and led her inside.
The chilly hotel room was a modern space with a full balcony that looked out over the city. A basket filled with snacks and drinks sat on a desk, stuffed with a welcome card from the governor herself. I shoved our suitcases into a closet before throwing my tired body on the bed and briefly closing my eyes. I’d been awake much of last night prepping for my keynote, and my eyes stung from exhaustion. I could hear Olivia shuffling about the room, slamming drawers, and huffing dramatically. Any hopes of her taking a catnap with me died a quick death.
I opened one eye and found my wife standing over me, one hand on her hip. “Is there a problem, Olivia?”
My wife regarded me like I was a complete moron. “There’s only one bed.”
“I’m aware.” I snuggled deeper into the mattress. “Fortunately, it’s a comfortable one.”
“You did this on purpose.”
Now both eyes popped open. “Did what?”
“Got a room with only one bed. I’ve read a few thousand romance novels, so I know this plot device very well.”
“I didn’t make the hotel arrangements. The governor’s office did.” I sat up, weary to the bone. “You do know everyone thinks we’rereallymarried, right? Your family might doubt us, but the rest of the world does not. Thus, one bed would not be considered abnormal.”
Rubbing her arms, she stomped to the thermostat, then punched a few buttons. “Most hotel rooms have two beds.”
