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He reached over, picked her up, and pulled her onto him.
“I can fake sick,” he said. “And I would, if I didn’t think you’d feel guilty later. But by my calculations, we don’t need to get up for another forty-five minutes, if you’re willing to grab breakfast at the airport.”
“I love breakfast at the airport. Cold eggs and stale bagels are the best.” She leaned down, hair falling to tickle his face. “We can shave off even more time if we shower together.”
“Mmm, not sure that would save time.”
“Fair point. We should start with the shower then.”
“Excellent plan.” He scooped her up, and he was just about to lift her out of bed when someone knocked on the door.
Chris glanced over. “Did you preorder breakfast?”
“Kinda wish I’d thought of it, but no.”
“Because that would require the hotel having a restaurant.”
“True.” She swung her leg over him and slid to stand beside the bed. He waved that he’d get the door and started looking for his clothing.
She continued, “Can we hope they decided to make up for the bullshit yesterday by ordering us a breakfast tray from somewhere?”
“Sadly, I doubt it. But on that note, we should have time to take the town car through a drive-thru. Better than airport food.”
He was still hunting for clothing as the knock became a banging.
“Do you even remember where you took off your clothes?” Daphne said, looking around.
“Pretty sure I wasn’t the one who took them off.”
“Right. Not sure how I forgot that. Definitely memorable.”
He smiled and grabbed his gym shorts from yesterday; as he pulled them on, he headed into the sitting room part of the suite. There was his shirt. He yanked it on and checked through the peephole.
Sakura stood there, raising her hand to knock again.
He checked his watch, which he wasn’t wearing. It was only seven, right? Car pickup at eight thirty? Flight at eleven?
If there was a problem, Sakura would have texted or called.
Except they’d both turned off their phones last night, determined not to be interrupted again.
He opened the door. “Did you try calling? I’m sorry. We switched off—”
“Is Daphne in there with you?”
“Uh, yes…”
“Of course she is.” The snap in Sakura’s voice said they’d definitely missed urgent messages.
“Is there a problem with the flight?” he said.
“I need to talk to both of you. Put on some clothes.”
He glanced down. He was decent—gym shorts and an unbuttoned shirt—but he wasn’t going to argue.
“Just a sec.”
He let the door go. Sakura caught it and stepped into the entranceway. He strode into the bedroom, where Daphne was dressing.
