“Ah yes. We’re part of the Johnson party,” Grant said, matching her bored tone as if it were his natural state.
“You’re the son of Irish shipping magnate Carlyle Johnson?” she asked, raising a very well-groomed eyebrow and stepping behind the check-in desk.
“Cousin,” Grant said, without flinching. This, Sam decided, was the upside of Grant’s imperious nature. She would have given up on thewhole shenanigan by now, but he was sticking to it as if he had every right to call himself an heir to a shipping empire.
“Right.” The ponytail person’s expression did not change, and she was opening her mouth to say something more when they were interrupted by a harried-looking person in an immaculate maroon suit.
“You’re with the Johnsons? The wedding planner just called like twenty minutes ago to say that you had decided to cancel the engagement party.”
“My cousin did, but we have a last-minute event that we thought we would check out the venue for. My admin called you a day or two ago to confirm the venue was available, I believe.” Turning to Sam, he scowled and said, “If Sherilynn messed up again, I swear—”
“Not to worry, sir,” the person in the suit jumped in. Extending a hand to Grant, they said, “My name is Yesenia.”
“Grant, and this is Sam,” Grant said, releasing Yesenia’s hand and gesturing to her.
“Nice to meet you,” Sam said, shaking Yesenia’s hand and fighting the feeling of schadenfreude as Ponytail glared at them.
“Aren’t you lovely? I assume you’ll want the same sort of bridal amenities as the former future Mrs.Johnson?” Sam’s mind had only just processed Yesenia’s assumption when they added, “If so, I can show you our smaller wedding staging rooms and our exclusive pregathering spaces.”
“Oh, I ... we—” Sam stumbled, trying to find a way to explain that while the Johnsons might have wanted a wedding, she and her coworker wanted no such thing.
“She is lovely,” Grant jumped in, his mischievous streak firing back up as he looked between Sam and Yesenia. “Well, would you like to see them, honey?”
Sam looked over at Grant, and their eyes met. In that look, it was like the two of them had an entire conversation—Grant raised an eyebrow, Sam blinked, and both of them smiled. Sam’s apprehensionmelted. If they were going to be in the Johnson family, they were going to do this all the way. No need to discuss it. Their understanding of one another just clicked.
Turning to Yesenia, Sam said, “Thank you for the compliment. We would love to see the preparation rooms and the prewedding space.”
“All right. Let’s get started,” Yesenia said, turning to walk into the venue.
Looking over at her, Grant tried to press a grin into a straight face before extending his arm to her. It was such a casual movement that Sam didn’t think about it until she touched the fabric of his sweater. The material was thin enough that she could feel the warmth of his skin and the muscles of his forearm flex just slightly under her palm. Such a small gesture shouldn’t have sent her mind reeling—she had basically clobbered the guy playing basketball—but for some reason this was different. It felt more intimate in a way she hadn’t prepared for. Heat and craving swept over her in waves so intense that she wondered if she would be able to focus on anything other than the feel of him so close to her.
“Ready?” Grant asked.
Sam nodded and hoped that Grant would be more interested in the decor than whatever shade of pink had to have appeared on her face by now. Clearing her throat, she said, “Lead the way, future husband.”
Grant snort-laughed, and Sam considered kicking herself.Future husband ... could I be any less chill right now?
Letting Grant guide her up a few stairs into the room, she started to pay attention right as Yesenia said, “And the space is fully ADA compliant, so if you have guests who need ramp access, we are happy to work with you and them to make sure their needs are met.”
“Uncle Yìchén will be delighted by that,” Grant said, maintaining the bored-rich-boy manner. Sam snickered, and Grant looked over at her, simultaneously trying to give her the get-it-together look andfighting a smile himself. Sam made a mental note to ask him if he even had an Uncle Yìchén.
While Yesenia rattled off facts about other well-heeled individuals who had recently used the space, Grant gently guided them around the room. With each step, Sam became more aware of their closeness. The feel of his sweater against her upper arm. The brush of his thigh against hers if they didn’t walk in a perfectly straight line. His smell—
“I bet they have easels you could rent for the pictures your mom wants to display. That way she wouldn’t have to ship or buy them.” Grant’s whisper interrupted her thoughts.
“Good idea.” Sam realized that she needed to put some space between the two of them. He hadn’t brought her here so she could think about his forearm. They were two not-enemies on a mission to find her mother a party venue so she could dedicate all her energy to opening the center; therefore, she needed to pay attention to the task at hand.
Taking a deep, mostly thought-cleansing breath, Sam released Grant’s arm quickly, as if she were ripping off a bandage to avoid prolonging the pain. He looked down at the place she had been, then back at her with a question in his eyes. Ignoring how cold her arm felt without him next to her, she focused on Yesenia. “Do you by chance have easels available? I think we would like to have photos from our engagement shoot and our travels on display.”
“Yes. We have some, as does the vendor we rent from ...”
“Travels?” Grant quirked an eyebrow. Putting his hands in his pockets, he leaned close to her so they couldn’t be heard, his shoulder brushing hers and triggering a cascade of sensation as he whispered, “Good one.”
“Just playing my part.” Sam tossed her hair playfully over her shoulder. Attempting to disregard the tingling of her skin where they’d just touched, she wondered how they had gotten so close to one another again. When she’d set out to create space to focus, this intimate huddle was not what she’d envisioned.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the server with the suspenders walking toward them with two glasses of sparkling wine. Breaking the spell Grant’s nearness had on her, she backed away and flashed him her best this-is-acting smile, before turning to Suspenders with the drinks and saying, “Are those for us?”
“They are. Here you go, Miss...” Suspenders echoed her playful tone as they held out a glass to Sam, who passed it to Grant. Turning back to take her glass, she offered Suspenders a smile and opened her mouth to answer the question.
