Page 82 of The Hookup Plan
He’d first pictured London living in a high-rise condo with sleek lines and ultramodern furnishings, like the corporate apartment he’d rented, only nicer. When he found out that she owned a single-family home, he’d expected lots of steel, stucco, and glass. Something with an open-concept floor plan and not a window shutter in sight.
This was…cute. It was cozy and welcoming and so unlike anything he’d expected from no-nonsense London Kelley. The woman continued to be a fascinating conundrum, and Drew was enjoying every aspect of peeling back her layers and learning more about her.
He wanted more of that this weekend. He’d decided this trip to the Hill Country would be his best opportunity to convince London to see him as something other than a temporary hookup partner. He still wasn’t sure how to properly define what they were—something between being friends with benefits and an official couple.
They were much closer to being the latter, and it was his goal to continue steering them in that direction.
Drew slid from behind the wheel of the black Porsche Cayenne he’d rented for the weekend. It had taken a minute to acclimate himself to being behind the wheel, it having been over a year since he’d driven a car. He used a car service to take him where he had to go in New York.
He walked up to the short wooden gate just as a postal worker arrived carrying a collection of envelopes and glossy mailers. The man tipped his wide-brimmed hat to Drew.
“Good morning,” Drew said, following him up the stone-paver walkway to the porch.
London opened the front door before either of them could knock.
“Hey!” she directed at Drew. She reached out a hand to the mailman and smiled. “Thank you.”
Another delivery van pulled up to the curb as the mailman started down the steps.
“You’re popular this morning,” Drew said.
“I wasn’t all that popular in high school. I’m making up for lost time,” she answered. She accepted this second package with a curious frown. “I don’t remember ordering anything, but who knows. I probably did.” She gestured for Drew to follow her inside as she tore into the padded yellow envelope.
Drew entered the house and was once again surprised by the homey feel of it. The flowered patterns, the cool blues and yellows and soft peach colors, the warm oak furniture—it was hard to reconcile this coziness with the woman he knew.
Yet another reminder that he didn’t know her as well as he wanted to.
Drew turned at the sound of London’s laugh. She held up a journal of some type, again in a flowered pattern, along with stickers, glittery pens, and rolls of colorful tape.
He lifted a brow in question. “Not something you ordered?”
“No. It’s a self-care journal,” she explained. “My friend Samiah had this overnighted because she thinks it will help me to decompress.”
Drew shrugged. “From what I hear, journaling does help some people. To me, it just seems like more work.”
“I’ll indulge her once I return home,” she said. She stuffed everything back in the padded envelope and placed it on the oak console table in the entryway, next to her mail. Then she lifted a set of keys from a ceramic dish along with her purse.
“Okay, Mr. Sullivan. Take me to the Hill Country. I’m ready to drink all the wine.” She motioned to a camel-colored duffel with leather straps that sat next to the door. “You mind bringing that to the car for me while I lock up?”
She told him that she was going to take one last glance around to make sure she’d turned off everything. Drew waited at the passenger-side door for her, opening it as she made her way down the front steps.
“Nice car,” she said as she slid in.
He stowed her bag with his on the back seat, then got in on his side and pulled his seat belt across his chest.
“Maybe I’ll consider one like this when my Mini gives out on me,” London said.
“You know, between your Mini Cooper and this house, I realize that you reallyarefull of surprises.”
“What’s wrong with my house?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s just not what I expected. You have chintz wallpaper,” he said, putting the car in drive. “I pegged you as more of a sleek-gray-and-black-with-splotches-of-red kind of person.”
“You sound like someone who watches way too much HGTV in your spare time.” She laughed. “And you never got the chance to see my bedroom last week. Red velvet walls. Whips. Chains.”
Drew slammed on the brakes and immediately put the car in reverse. London burst out laughing and covered his hand on the gearshift.
“I’m joking,” she said.