Page 10 of Her Steamy Cowboy
Grace waves off the apology, moving behind a weathered desk that looks like it’s seen a century of travelers.
“Don’t worry about it, honey. You’re hardly the first folks to get caught out in one of our surprises. Though—” She pulls out a heavy leather ledger, running one finger down the page with a slight frown.
Something in her tone makes me tense.
I’ve heard that note before, usually right before someone’s about to tell me something I don’t want to hear.
Sure enough, after a few moments of page-flipping, she looks up with an apologetic smile. “Well folks, I’m afraid I’ve got good news and bad news. Good news is, I do have one room left.”
“And the bad news?” Lindsay asks.
Grace’s eyes flick between us, and I swear I see something knowing in her expression. “Bad news is, it’s got just the one bed.”
Chapter Four
LINDSAY
One bed.
Of course, there’s only one bed.
Because, apparently, the universe has decided that my life needs to be even more complicated right now. As if keeping secrets from my best friend isn’t hard enough.
“We’ll take it,” Jace says immediately.
My head snaps up to look at him, but his expression is unreadable. There’s something almost challenging in the set of his jaw, like he’s daring the world to make this a bigger deal than it needs to be.
“Are you sure? We could?—”
“I’m sure.” His eyes meet mine for a brief moment, and something in my stomach flutters. He’s using that tone—the one that means he’s made up his mind and nothing short of an act of God is going to change it.
“Do you have maybe a rollaway cot or—” I start to ask Grace, my voice embarrassingly breathless. I can feel the tips of my ears burning. A cot would be safe. A cot would mean not having to lie next to him all night, trying not to remember how many times I’ve dreamed about exactly that.
But Jace cuts me off smoothly. “We’ll make it work,” he tells Grace, already reaching for his wallet. “Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice.”
My mind is racing with the implications of his words.
We’ll make it work.
What does that even mean? Is he planning to sleep on the floor? Is he expecting me to? Or does he really think we can share a bed like it’s nothing, like we’re still the same people we were before I started noticing the way his shirts stretch across his shoulders or how his voice gets all gravelly when he’s tired?
Grace is already pulling out registration forms, her pen scratching against the paper.
“Room 12, up the stairs and to the right. There’s extra blankets in the closet, and the bathroom’s fully stocked.” She slides an old brass key across the desk. “Dinner’s at six in the main dining room, but we’ve got soup and sandwiches in the kitchen if you’re hungry now.”
“Some soup would be great, actually,” Jace says, glancing at me. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
The fact that he noticed, that he’s been keeping track—it does something to my chest that I really don’t want to examine right now.
“I’m fine, I?—“
“Lindsay.” He gives me that look. “You get hangry. Remember the Jensen contract meeting?”
Despite everything, I feel my lips twitch. “That wasn’t hunger, that was justified irritation at their ridiculous demands.”
“Uh-huh.” His eyes are twinkling now. “And I’m sure it had nothing to do with skipping lunch.”
I reach for my wallet, desperate to change the subject before I do something stupid like tell him how sexy he is when he’s being overprotective.