“We couldn’t,” Blake argues, but Liza isn’t listening. She’s haphazardly packing up her stuff, desperate to get to her sister.
“Here,” I start. “Let me help you pack all your stuff up to say thank you.”
Blake looks at me quizzically, and I kiss the tip of her nose. “Just wait for me here, okay?”
Like the gentleman my mama raised me to be, I hop off the bed, put my shirt and shoes back on and wait for Liza to zip up her collection of camera bags.
Without a second thought, I hike the multiple straps over both my shoulders. “Lead the way,” I say.
“Thanks for this.” She sighs. “I will contact you both in a few days, and if you’re up for it, we can reschedule. You guys have paid and there’s no way I want you to walk away with a less-than-stellar experience.”
“It’s okay,” Blake soothes. “Worry about your sister, we can work whatever’s easier out when your niece or nephew is born.”
Her kind words don’t shock me, but rather, they add one more thing to the list of reasons it’ll be very hard to walk away from this woman.
When we finally make it to the lobby, Liza turns to me and reaches for her bags. “I’ve got it from here,” she states. “I really appreciate you helping me.”
“Of course.”
“I’m really sorry I had to cancel,” she reiterates while walking to the concierge. “But something tells me today hasn’t been a total bust.”
When she pulls out a credit card, I place my hand on her shoulder and stop her. “I’ll pay for the room.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “That’s completely unnecessary.”
“Seriously.” I drag out my wallet from my back pocket. “I think you may have just changed my whole world. I owe you.”
“You know, I do these shoots often, and each time my romantic heart plots out a happy ever after for each couple. It almost always eventuates into nothing. But this, with you and Blake, this could be it.”
“So it wasn’t all in my head?” I ask, confiding in a complete stranger.
“Oh my God,” she exclaims, placing her hand over her heart. “Definitely not. Just wait till you see the photos, because trust me when I say a picture really is worth a thousand words.”
Liza’s honesty, as well as her understanding, fills me up with hope that I can trust myself and the way I’m feeling. That maybe after a horrible marriage, and a shitty year, I can make the leap and Blake could catch me.
Finally, it's our turn at the reception desk, and Liza explains the situation to hotel staff. Without too much hassle, they switch over the credit card details on file to mine so it can be charged upon checkout.
Once we’ve signed off on everything and said our goodbyes, I race back to the room, desperate to get back to Blake.
I rush in as soon as the door unlocks, taking big, purposeful strides to the main bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I ask, a flutter of panic settling in my bones as I lean on the door jamb. I watch her meticulously step back into her dress and slide it up her body before zipping it up. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t do this,” she breathes out, her voice full of indecision. “I just don’t do things like this. On a whim, you know? That isn’t me.”
Pushing off the wall, I stalk toward her. “I know we just met, and this is an impossible ask, but please, please, don’t walk out that door.”
Looking pensive, she chews on her bottom lip, and I take the fact that she’s still standing before me as a sign that there’s a chance she might stay.
“We can keep our clothes on,” I state. “And I can sit on the opposite end of the room if it makes you feel better. But, please, Blake.” Needing even the simplest of touches, I step forward and grab her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. “Please don’t leave me wondering,” I beg. “If you leave right now, every part of me knows I could be missing out on potentially the best thing that’s ever walked into my life.”
Chapter Three
Blake
I should be running for dear life. And before he walked back in here, that’s exactly what I was going to do. Any sane woman would walk right out of this room and away from this man. But I can’t.
Logically, I know the things coming out of his mouth are impossible. They’re too much, too soon. Too… everything.
But my heart… my soul. They feel electrified at Rosario’s insistence. Everything about him is inviting and welcoming, and everything about that should scare me.
Strangers don’t feel this way about one another.
Not this quickly, and possibly not ever.
His hold on my hand tightens. “What do you say?”
“I’ll stay,” I say, trying to sound way more put out than I feel. “But can we move whatever this is to the living area? Take the pressure off and keep it light?”
I don’t know why I expect his mood to change, as if taking the possibility of sex off the table would turn him into a grumpy, unsatisfied prick, but he remains unfazed by my decision to keep my legs closed.
“Of course. We’ll order room service and find something to stream.”
“And no sex,” I repeat.
“Oh, Blake. Baby,” he croons, pulling my hand and moving me closer to him. “Tonight is just the beginning.”
I raise a questioning eyebrow. “The beginning of what?”
“Of us.”
The words roll off his tongue without hesitation or preamble. The expression on his face and the sincerity in his voice add to the honesty of the statement.
In truth, the words are perfect. They’re promising. They’re words I would’ve expected and accepted from the man I devoted three years of my life to.
But from this stranger?
From this stranger, they should be comical. Absurd. One hundred percent unbelievable. But even as my mind tries to talk me out of this unrivaled connection, my heart starts to beat to a new rhythm. One made up of two words and a stream of endless possibilities.
Bringing my hand up to his cheek, I lean into his mouth and softly kiss his lips. “You have one night,” I tell him. “One night to make me want and see and feel what you do.”
Mirroring my actions, it’s his turn to kiss me, except his lips linger, and his hands wander, and I almost forget all the reasons why we were already not doing a rough and tumble in the sheets together.
As if he can read my mind, he drags his mouth away from mine.
“Let’s eat first,” he suggests breathlessly. “Food would be a nice distraction right now. Are you hungry?”
Knowing we need to put the brakes on the physical touch, I find myself leading us out of the bedroom and away from temptation. “I don’t know if I could stomach anything right now,” I tell him honestly.
“You’re not one of those people, are you?” he asks, stopping mid-stride, a hint of worry in his tone.
I straighten my back in defense. “What people?”
“Someone who doesn’t eat in front of someone they’re attracted to.”
I want to dismiss his assumption and level out his cockiness, but who am I trying to lie to? I’m very much attracted to him, but the nervousness… that’s new. I’m usually confident in my own skin, doing what I want, when I want. But right now, this isn’t me.