I chew my lip, looking down at the phone. “But I don’t want to be obvious about it either. I don’t want to invite myself to his hotel.”
“Be flirtatious about it. Tell him you’ll show up, wearing a raincoat and nothing else.”
“That’s a little heavier than flirtation.”
“It’ll get the desired results, won’t it? Unless you think he would turn you down.”
“He’d damn well better not.” I chuckle. Of course, now, she has me wondering. “Maybe I should tell him the truth?”
She waves her hands around. “No way! Jeez, for a romance writer, you’re clueless about emotions.”
“Gee, thanks a lot.”
“You can’t tell him about Matt. That would just make things more awkward.”
“Of course.”
We both look at the phone when it buzzes with a new text.
I’m going to freshen up and grab something to eat. Want to come by?
“See? No worries.” Hayley sits back with a smug smile, like she had anything to do with what just happened. Like she somehow mentally sent a message to Paxton, who she has never met, advising him to have me over for a booty call.
“No worries,” I echo, polishing off my drink.
And that might be true, too, if only I could stop worrying about Matt and his feelings. Of all the times for him to decide he has feelings for me.
Of all the times for me to wonder how many signals I missed along the way.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Contrary to Hayley’s opinion, I’m wearing normal street clothes by the time I walk into the lobby of The Plaza Hotel. I’m all about making memories and everything, but there are limits.
Though she did give me an idea for my book, and goodness knows, Maggie would love a scene like that.
But this is real life, and it’s my heart that’s really thudding as I look around the lobby. He told me he would meet me here rather than have me go to his room by myself. I got the feeling he was afraid the front-desk staff would think I was a professional, somebody the wealthy cowboy had called in for the night.
Expect he’s not here. The man sticks out like a sore thumb. There’s no missing him. Yet there’s no sign of him in the lobby with its intricate floor and magnificent chandelier hanging in front of the elevators. This has always seemed like such a magical place, like a fairy-tale land.
Right now, I feel like an intruder. Like somebody’s going to know just by looking at me that I’m not staying here and only here to hook up with a guest. I’m a grown woman. Why does that bother me so much? I’ll never see any of these people again.
It’s not like any of them could possibly know I already kissed another man today—rather, that I was kissed by another man.
Yikes. I can’t get over the feeling that I should tell Paxton, but it really isn’t any of his business, is it? We’re not even seriously dating. I would never call him my boyfriend, not yet anyway. For all I know, he could’ve made out with another girl today.
Terrific. Now, I’m imagining that, and it’s not doing me any favors.
Rather than stand around, feeling like I don’t belong, I wander toward the lounge with its circular bar. The skylight above the bar is made entirely of stained glass and is gorgeous enough to take my breath away.
There’s another gorgeous thing sitting underneath the intricate glass ceiling. He’s on his phone with a tumbler of whiskey in front of him, and he does not look happy.
I take a minute to watch him, to stand back without him knowing I’m here. He turns the glass around and around, scowling at it like it did something to offend him.
Who could he be talking to? Isn’t his father staying here in the hotel with him?
He heaves a sigh that makes me remember the rise and fall of his shoulders when he got off the phone a few nights ago while we were in the park. This is a far cry from the genial, charming man I’ve been spending time with.
“Can I help you, miss?” The bartender waits expectantly in front of me. He raised his voice a little louder than he needed to, like he’s trying to send a message. Buy a drink or get out of here.
It’s enough to get Paxton’s attention, and he’s suddenly smiling. The difference is so sudden, so complete. Within seconds, he’s off the phone, waving me over. I give the bartender a look and make my way over to Paxton.
“I didn’t know you were there,” he says as I approach the table.
“I didn’t want to disturb you while you were on the phone.”
“You’re so sweet.” He nods to his glass. “Would you like a drink?”
“No, thanks. I met up with my best friend earlier, and we had drinks.”
“That’s Hayley, right?”
“Yep. The genius lawyer who will probably be the youngest partner her firm has ever seen.”
“Good for her. And she still has time to have a drink with her friend. She’s better at balancing work and her personal life than I’ll ever be.” With that, he finishes his drink all at once before signing the slip, which the bartender discreetly left in front of him.
He stands, wrapping me in a chaste hug. “You have no idea how much I want to tear your clothes off right now,” he growls in my ear.
I bite my lip and try to give him as coy of a look as I can. “But, Mr. Cleary, what would everyone in the bar think?”
“They’d think I’d found the most beautiful, most interesting, sexiest woman in the world. I don’t think anybody would blame me.”
I have to fight the impulse to correct him. Why is it so hard for me to accept a compliment? Why do I immediately want to shut him down and tell him he’s absolutely crazy for being attracted to me? Where does that start, I wonder?
He’s clearly not worried about it, draping an arm over my shoulders and leading me out of the lounge and toward the elevators. “How was your day?” he asks as we walk.
Oh boy. There’s no way he could possibly know what a loaded question that is. For a split second, I almost want to tell him that my day was insane enough to warrant a 911 text to my bestie, begging her to meet me for drinks before I lost my sanity.
“Pretty good,” I settle on replying.
He surprises me by frowning at this. “Just pretty good? Maybe I didn’t do all I could last night …”
I can’t help but giggle, ducking my head a little as I do. “Trust me, I don’t know what else you could have done.”
“Ma’am, there’s always room for improvement.”
The elevator doors open, and we step into the empty car.
Paxton takes advantage of this. The second the doors close, his hands are on me, his mouth covering mine. He kisses me like a man who’s starving, desperate for me.
If there’s anything sexier in the entire world, I don’t know what it is. And while I’ve always heard the threat of being discovered only makes a situation like this sexier, I’ve never known from personal experience just how true it is.
Now, I do. Now, I understand. Here we are, in this swanky hotel, with Paxton pushing me up against the wall and one of his hands up under my blouse. If the car came to a stop, we might have time to fix ourselves up before the doors opened, but it would be a close call. And there’s no way whoever joined us wouldn’t know what was going on before they showed up.