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“Where does that go, Narnia?” I turn to see her pointing across the room at another door.
“No, smart-ass, that’s the hallway. My dad had it installed so that his personal shoppers wouldn’t have to step into his office.”
Bell snorts. That pretty much sums my father’s actions up.
She steps fully inside and spins in a circle. “Your office closet is bigger than my bedroom in Houston.”
“I thought everything was bigger in Texas.”
She gives me a long, leisurely look, ending with a pointed stare below my belt. “Not everything.”
“Why, Miss Campbell, I do declare!” I mock with the worst Southern accent imaginable.
“Please. Gone with the Wind is Georgia, not Texas.”
I tilt my imaginary hat. “My apologies, ma’am.”
“Oh. Now those are fighting words.” Her eyes light up, the brown sparking with mischief and seduction.
My favorite combination.
My favorite everything.
24
BELL
Something’s up.
Chase is saying the right things, doing the right things, but something feels… off.
“Want to stop and get dinner on the way to the hotel?” he asks, opening the car door for me.
I bite my lip, handing him my laptop bag to put in the back. “Sure.” Ugh, god, I hate being unsure. It’s like I’ve unlocked a new part of myself that I haven’t had practice with. Mentally slapping myself straight, I pause before getting in, going onto my tippy toes to whisper in his ear. “Or… we could grab a quick bite at the hotel restaurant? Makes the time between dinner and the hotel room that much shorter.”
He doesn’t answer right away. That’s what I mean by something being off. Before I told him I loved him, Chase would’ve been all over getting me into a bed. “Or not.” I drop back to my heels, feeling embarrassed.
“No. The hotel restaurant is fine.” He waits until I’ve cleared the doorway before shutting me inside his sleek car. He takes a moment to hang the garment bag and place my bag on the back-seat floor before sliding into the driver’s seat. “You’re right. It is that much closer to the bedroom.” He throws me that signature smirk of his, but it’s missing the wicked light in his eyes.
As soon as he pushes the ignition button, his phone goes off, the car dash displaying “Thomas” on the screen.
Chase cancels the call with a press of the button on his steering wheel, then pulls out into rush-hour traffic.
Thomas calls again.
With agitated movements, Chase stabs the button on the wheel, silencing the call again.
Well. Now it’s just awkward.
“Are you okay?”
“Yep.”
Uh-huh, sure. That’s why his knuckles are turning white from his death grip on the steering wheel.
“That was your brother, wasn’t it?”
He nods, but his eyes never stop staring in front of him. Even when traffic slows and we come to a stop.
