“Egomaniac much?” she muttered.
“It’s not ego. I simply know what I’m good at and what I’m not good at.”
Lily gulped. She did not need Sean to tell her he was good at making women want him—she had a lifetime of proof all on her own.
“And I certainly don’t enjoy putting moves on anyone who isn’t feeling it.” He came closer, though whether it was intentional or not, Lily had no idea. “So, I’m perfectly happy to sleep on the floor if it makes you more comfortable.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I won’t make you do that. I’m sure we’re perfectly capable of sharing a bed without getting handsy.”
For some reason, she didn’t feel as confident about that as she would have liked.
“Okay, we have batteries and we have torches.” Ethan’s voice accompanied the bright yellow sweep of torchlight as he walked back into the dining room. “You guys are really getting the full winter experience here. The power is probably going to be out for a while, Monroe tells me. Possibly overnight.”
He handed the torches out. Light bounced around the room, turning the shadows into sharper objects.
“The lack of power is going to make the bedrooms chilly, I’m afraid,” Ethan continued. “I’ll head upstairs and put some extra blankets on your beds. Although I’m sure you won’t need too much help there.”
Oh God. If Lily’s face got any hotter, they wouldn’t need to worry about keeping warm. Her embarrassment was stronger than any heating system. But what did she have to be embarrassed about? Wasn’t this exactly what she wanted—for people to think she’d moved on from Brock by hooking up with a hottie from her past?
Stop being such a prude.
“Thanks, mate,” Sean replied, unaware that Lily was blushing up a storm. “You’re a real pro at this hosting thing.”
“It’s my job now,” he said with a good-natured shrug. “I never thought I’d leave the corporate life behind, but I love this work. It’s great meeting new people all the time and helping them have an enjoyable experience here. Power issues notwithstanding.”
“Do you live on the property?” Lily asked.
“Yeah. This past summer we moved into what used to be a guest cottage out back and we’ve fixed her up good. Makes it easy for me to manage the property, since the owner is getting older.”
Monroe started clearing the dinner plates with a torch wedged in her armpit, shooing away anyone who tried to help her—and Ethan went to stock the bedrooms with extra blankets.
“We should head up to bed,” Lily said. “I’m sure you’re dead tired from the jetlag.”
“Are you coming?”
Lily swallowed, finding that her throat felt suddenly tight. “Yep.”
“I’ll walk ahead so you can follow. I don’t want you twisting an ankle on the stairs or bumping into anything.”
“Since when did you turn into such a gentleman?” A smile quirked her lips.
“Excuse me, I have always been like that. I hold doors for people and… other gentlemanly things.”
“So, you’re going to accompany me to my chambers?” she teased. “How kind.”
“Yep. See, I am a gentleman.”
He angled his torch toward the door that led into the foyer, and she walked close to him, trying not to bump into anything. The storm outside obscured the moonlight, and the old inn was pitch dark. It creaked and groaned in the wind as they slowly made their way toward the stairs. He walked ahead, lighting the way—keeping one torch in front and the other behind him pointed down.
“There you go,” Ethan said as they made it to the top of the stairs. “Extra blankets on the bed. If the power comes back on, the heating will kick in automatically.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Sean replied smoothly. “We’ll be out like a light soon enough.”
Ethan bid them a good night, and Sean pushed open the door with his shoulder.
“After you,” Sean said. “Do you think we should rattle the bedhead a bit, just to sell it?”
“What? No, we’re not—”
“I’m kidding.” He laughed and the sound was deep and delicious. “You can relax, Lily. I promise I’ll be on my very best behaviour.”
Oh boy. The most worrying thing of all wasn’t that she didn’t believe Sean, but that in this moment she very much hoped he was lying.
Lily looked up at him, the torchlight flickering in her dark eyes and catching on the fine angles of her face. She was undeniably beautiful—wide eyes with thick lashes, high cheekbones, and heart-shaped full lips. A strand of her dark hair tumbled free of her ponytail, and she tucked it behind her ear.
What he found most attractive about her was the fire inside, however. The spirit that drove her to excel and the tenacity with which she tackled her goals. She was joyfully, wonderfully alive. Motivated. On a trajectory Sean could never even hope for.
“Go on,” he said gently, pulling the door closed behind them and turning to face the wall. “I’ll avert my eyes while you get changed.”
He stashed the torches on the bedside table so he could strip out of the jeans he’d worn to dinner and change into something comfy and warm. The room was still cosy, but he trusted Ethan when he’d said it would get cold overnight.
“I bet this is what they did back in Jane Austen times,” Lily said. There was a shuffling sound, like fabric whispering against skin. “Get undressed awkwardly in the dark.”
“I would try to make a witty remark here, but that would require me to know anything about Jane Austen,” he replied. “Blah, blah, Mr. Darcy.”
She laughed. The sound was raspy and deep, and it sent a blade of attraction through him. “Blah, blah, Mr. Darcy? That’s seriously the best you can do?”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “The one time I was forced to watch Sense and Stupidity, I fell asleep.”
Lily’s laugh was even heartier this time. “First, it’s Sense and Sensibility, not Sense and Stupidity. Second, Mr. Darcy is from Pride and Prejudice.”
Sean scoffed. “Sense and Stupidity sounds way catchier, if you ask me.”
“No. It sounds like the people who made Dumb and Dumber did a Jane Austen adaptation.” The sound of a zip—probably from her suitcase—cut through the air. “Which is something nobody needs in their life.”
“Disagree. I would watch that.” He listened to see if she was done, but the rustling told him she was still changing. “How many layers do you have on, exactly?”
“Enough that I am going to feel like a Jane Austen character getting undressed in the morning,” she joked.
“Does it get cold in LA?”
He’d never been the kind of guy to be curious about other parts of the world. Maybe it was because he’d grown up feeling like travel was a privilege not accessible to him, so why wonder about somewhere you’d never get to visit? As he’d gotten older, the time he’d spent away from Patterson’s Bluff had done more harm than good.
“Nah, it’s lovely there. Very warm,” she replied. “You’d like it. And you can turn around now, I’m all done.”