Page 41 of All of You

I took in the lobby, feeling shabby in the upscale entrance of this no doubt extremely expensive hotel. My reflection bounced off the large black and gold squares on the floor and from just about every other surface—marble counter tops at check in and concierge, pristine windows and doors, mirrored table tops without a smudge.

I’d flown in from Nashville this morning, not able to get off work to leave earlier in the week and travel up with her—the Army was good about giving leave during block leave periods, but rarely could you finagle an earlier departure, not that I’d had enough leave built up for that, anyway.

I hadn’t gotten to talk to Whit—it had been from the airport into a car (admittedly, I’d felt more than a little swank having someone hold a sign with my last name on it—that was a first), then to the venue. Some hulking bodyguard had shown me to the greenroom area, but Whit hadn’t been there. A while later, she’d shuffled past in a small group, and then the lights in place must have gone down because the crowd’s screams had been making the backstage area vibrate. Unreal didn’t cover it.

By the time I was escorted to her room by Amanda, who insisted I should go there first, my heart was about to pound out of my body. The build-up of the journey, of the concert, and of having no time to even say hi, had me ready to crawl out of my skin from the anticipation of being with her.

So, yeah. I was there. Things for me had escalated.

A bodyguard stood posted outside her door. My first thought was that he looked terrifying, maybe only two inches taller than me, but he outweighed me by fifty pounds or more and had a case of disappearing neck. My second thought? Good. I wanted anyone approaching that door to be terrified unless they had official business with Whit.

He nodded to Amanda and opened the door, then pushed it wider, and she charged through. My heartrate ticked up—her scent tickled my nose, the faintly floral and citrus essence that was purely her.

Whit stood at the far end of a large, modern living room, looking out at the city’s lights and the newly snow-covered Boston Common that stretched out below her feet. Her hair was still wavy and flowing, her dress still nearly indecently short, and her toned legs looked like they might be glowing, but her feet were bare, and she’d lost the cowboy hat backstage, I assumed. And she was yelling into the phone.

“Where is he? I’ve been here an hour. He should have been with me. I shouldn’t have to call you directly to find out where my?—”

She stopped abruptly, and Amanda elbowed me and raised her eyes to say told you so.

Amanda tossed her stuff on the dark gray couch, and I propped up my suitcase and dropped my backpack next to it on the gray and white patterned carpet.

“If he left half an hour ago, how is he not here?” she asked whoever was on the other end of the call with one hand propped on her hip, still evidently oblivious to our arrival.

I walked to stand behind her and leaned down to say in her ear, “I’m here.”

She startled, then swirled around and threw her arms around my neck and tossed her phone onto a nearby plush chair. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me, the unmitigated thrill of having her close pulsing through my whole system.

She held me close, tight, and long. Then, when she pulled back, she held me away from her by the forearms and surveyed my face, letting her gaze dip down to run over my jacket, the little water droplets no doubt catching her eye.

“Hi.”

I smiled back at her like a doofus. I was such a sucker for this woman, and she had no idea. “Hi there, Ms. Grantham.”

“I was just yelling at Nikki because she didn’t get you to me to ride with me. They were supposed to bring you straight to me before the concert!”

She pulled me back in and hugged me around the waist, my arms pinned to my sides by her surprisingly strong ones.

“I’m sorry. I just did what I was told, tried to stay out of the way. I didn’t want to bother you or mess up your pre-show routine.”

I had wanted to see her, almost desperately, which was pathetic in itself, but knowing she wanted to see me, too, that it hadn’t been her plan to let me get shown around by unknown people and then corralled by bodyguards, made me feel good.

Real good.

“I wish I’d known when you got there. I thought maybe you were late and had just arrived when I saw you after—no one would update me. Did you see the show?” She pulled back, her beautiful teal eyes glittering at me.

“I did. I was right off stage. You were awesome.” Those words were impressively inadequate.

“I didn’t see you. I’m so sorry,” she said, squeezing my arms where she still held me.

If only I wasn’t wearing a jacket or sleeves so her hands would be on the skin of my arms. I wanted her touch with a suddenness that shook me.

I swallowed that desire down. “Don’t apologize. You were in the zone. I loved seeing you perform again. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

Suddenly, the droplets on my jacket seemed fascinating, everything to focus on to avoid seeing her response.

“That’s… I’m glad. I’m going to get cleaned up, and you can get settled, and then we’ll hang out a while? I’m always wired for a while after a concert.” She dropped her hands and moved over, giving a wordless hug to Amanda who’d set a few things in Whit’s room.

“Sure. Do you know what I do about getting my room?” I asked, searching back and forth between them to indicate I wasn’t sure who might know.

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