“Okay. Let’s get your stuff together.” I pause. “I’ll go and make you a plate of food from the buffet first though. They set it up while you were outside doing a stunt driver impersonation.”
“You don’t have to,” he protests.
Yes, I do. “You’ve hardly eaten anything.”
“And how do you know that?”
I wink. “I watch you occasionally.”
An intrigued look crosses his face that fills me with a sudden shaft of hope.
“I’ll be back in a second.”
I duck into the reception room. Most of the wedding party have migrated into the bar. Now there are just a few people loudly and drunkenly talking by the big table groaning with food.
After filling a plate with all the things he likes, I make my way quickly back to him. I don’t know where this feeling of urgency is coming from, but I have to be near him.
I stop dead at the entrance to the foyer. Joe’s talking to a handsome man with red hair and blue eyes. I grit my teeth as he laughs up at him.
Then Joe catches sight of me, and a huge welcoming smile crosses his face. “Lachlan, did you meet Dougal the manager?”
My shoulders immediately relax, and I join them. “I did see you around earlier, yes.”
“Nice to meet you,” he says.
My gaze travels over his features. “You don’t look too good.” He’s pale, with two bright spots of colour on his cheeks, and his eyes are fever bright.
“I just said that,” Joe says, looking at me as if we’re a team. It’s extraordinarily nice.
“I’m okay,” Dougal says. “I feel like I might have a cold coming on, but I’ll be fine.”
“Can’t you go to bed?” Joe asks.
It’s one of his nicest characteristics—his caring about other people. We balance each other out well in that respect, as I don’t give a shit.
“No. We’re on a small staff now.” Dougal essays a crooked smile. “I got the rest of the staff home a few hours ago.”
Joe nods. “I wish I’d done the same.”
I don’t. I wisely keep my thoughts to myself.
“We’re used to it here,” Dougal says. “Drifts frequently cover the lane. It’s a good job you didn’t make it off the forecourt. It can get a bit dicey farther down, especially in the dark.”
I shudder at the thought. He could have been trapped in his car and caught hypothermia, with no one the wiser. Luckily, I’d come looking for him, drawn by a feeling that he wasn’t coming back.
I edge close to him needing to feel his warm body against mine, and Joe looks up at me in astonishment, but Dougal offers me a weak grin as if he understands.
“So, who have you got left?” Joe asks. He’s incurably nosy which is one reason he’s so good at his job. He never met a question he couldn’t ask, and everyone seems to fall over themselves to give him the answers.
“I’ve got Cameron, a waiter who lives in. He’s going out with my niece Isla who’s doing me a favour by waitressing. They’ll clean up tonight.”
“Can we help?” Joe asks.
Dougal immediately shakes his head. “That’s very kind of you, but no. I’m only sitting behind the bar until everyone goes to bed. Yours is the only party in the hotel tonight. I can get an earlyish night, and then I’ll be cooking your breakfast tomorrow if the chef can’t get in.”
“Okay, we’ll go up,” I say quickly. I hand Joe his plate and he looks at me in bemusement.
“How much do you think I can eat?”
“Not enough. You survive on party favours.”
“Not true at all.”
“I bet if I look in your fridge, I’ll find a packet of sugared almonds and a slice of wedding cake.”
He rolls his eyes and then immediately winces.
“Enough. Let’s go upstairs. You need bed,” I command.
“Okay. But only because I want to.”
“Of course.”
We nod goodnight to Dougal who seems to be fighting a smile and make our way up the stairs. DABBA is currently massacring “Waterloo”.
“I thought they couldn’t hit any more wrong notes after the last song, but I live to be wrong. They’ve succeeded,” I observe.
He chuckles and I eye his face worriedly. His nose is swollen, and a bruise is already starting to come up on his forehead. I let us into the room and taking the plate of food from him, I push him gently to the bathroom. “Go and shower and get warm,” I instruct. “I’ll put some more logs on the fire.”
It’s a sign that he’s not feeling well that he does as he’s told. I’ve never met anyone like Joe for his charming wilfulness. He’s like a pretty cat stepping daintily through life, forging his own path.
The shower starts, and I move around the room switching the lamps on and drawing the duvet back on the bed. It’s a nice room, and I know Joe will get a kick out of being in a turret room with its huge four-poster bed made up with white linens and a squashy duvet. I could have done without the lime-green tartan wallpaper though. It hurts the eyes. The designer has obviously never suffered from a hangover.
My phone rings and I look down at the display and curse softly. Rafferty. Clicking to answer the call, I whisper, “Make it quick.”
There’s a startled pause and then Joe’s best friend’s voice comes through with that ever-present note of amusement running through it. “Not possible, I’m afraid. I do have my sexual reputation to uphold.”
“Joe’s in the shower.”
“Wow. You’re a quick worker, Lachlan.”
I sigh. “He drove his car into a snow drift, so he’s getting warm.”
“Is he okay?” he asks immediately.
I want to smile. I’d been jealous as fuck over Rafferty when I first met Joe. Joe had mentioned him so many times I’d felt incredibly threatened. But then I’d met him and been immediately reassured. The two of them are very close, and unholy partners in their ability to find trouble, but there’s no spark of lust—just a bone-deep friendship. And for that, I love him.
“He’s fine. As recalcitrant as usual.”
“That’s my boy. Anyway, I’m ringing to give you a warning, Lachlan.”
“How very godfatherish of you. Will I be finding a horse’s head in my bed?”
“No, because I don’t get on well with snow. But make no mistake I would travel up there and shove one under your duvet if you mess this up and hurt him again.” He pauses. “Obviously not a real one, though. I like horses, although I’m not a very good rider. Once, I—”
“Thank you for the warning,” I interject. “I’m suitably scared.”
“You should be. I may be sunny, but I’m extremely fierce when I care about someone.”
“Joe is very lucky to have you.”
“I’m not so sure he’ll think the same when he finds out it was me who gave you Erica’s contact details and helped you with this insane plot. Let’s try and keep that between ourselves.”
“I will. Thank you,” I say fervently. “I love him, and I won’t waste this chance.”