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“Yeah.Great.”
The bellhop leads the way to our suite, and Ben sends him off with a tip. When the man’s gone, I survey the living area. There’s a couch and a wingback chair facing a TV, plus sliding doors that close off a separate area with a kingbed.
I’m still staring at that bed, anticipation running through me, when hespeaks.
“So you have some kind of photo shoot thisafternoon?”
“I hired a photographer to capture the couple being morerelaxed.”
“Smart.”
“I hope so. Then a reception tomorrow and thebachelorette.”
He follows my gaze toward the bed, and I grimace. “I asked for two beds but they couldn’taccommodate.”
Ben hangs his garment bag and mine in the closet by the door. “Vane expects us to be acouple.”
Irritation rises. I shift on my platform heels and smooth down the fabric of my black sleeveless D&G jumpsuit. “He won’t be dropping by ourroom.”
“So what’s the problem—you think I’ll attack you?” He turns back and his wolfish grin makes me press my thighstogether.
I open my rolling suitcase on the luggage rack and take my small bag of makeup and hygiene products to the bathroom, avoiding his gaze. “Of course not. It’s a busy weekend and I want to get a good night’ssleep.”
“Which you won’t get on account of all this hotness in arm’s reach?” He leans in the doorway of the bathroom, watching me set out my toothbrush, toothpaste, and skincareproducts.
I turn toward him, folding my arms. “I’m regretting this already. Please leave me the dog andgo.”
Instead of complying, he steps into the bathroom, stopping when his hips brush mine. “Do something for me,darling.”
My breath sticks in mythroat.
“Scope out the liquor. If I’m on the clock, I’m damn well enjoyingit.”
“If you promise not to call methat.”
“What would you prefer? Sweet thing?Baby?"
They're both ridiculous, but the casual way he says them makes me wish he'd say nothing else allday.
I shove his shoulder before brushing past him to get back out into thesuite.
“Enjoy the photo shoot, darling,” he calls afterme.
“Don’t drink yourself into oblivion, sweet thing,” I toss over myshoulder.
I go down to the photo shoot area, a private stretch of beach within view of the hotel. The photographer shows up after I’ve spent a couple minutes scoping the sand for a goodlocation.
"I want it to feel easy and natural," I tell the photographer, going over what we discussed already. "Get the property in the background if you can but make iteffortless."
As planned, Aiden and Camila show up fifteen minutes later, looking flawless and elegant in a linen suit and a designersundress.
As the photographer works with the couple, I cast a look back at the hotel. On the porch, Ben’s pacing and on his phone. I should’ve known Ben was joking about drinking in the middle of the day. He probably lied about having nothing to do this weekend too. The awards gala is coming up, and though he says it's a done deal, he must be feelingnerves.
Him coming here feels like a big deal. He prefers to take his weekends off, when he can get them. Pretending for my job doesn’t seem like much fun, and certainly notrelaxing.
I’m still admiring him when Camila comes over on a break. “The handsome ones are the most dangerous. How long have you beentogether?”
“We’ve been friends sinceschool.”
