Page 49 of All of You

No. It had been her hands running over my skin, her tongue responding to mine, her lips moving against mine, her body pressing closer, her cheeks flushed, her balance off-kilter. I hadn’t imagined it.

But every polite smile she gave to someone else, every small laugh she gifted out, every simple nod or handshake, felt like a test. It wasn’t, of course, but ultimately, it still felt like it. All I wanted to do was pull her into a corner and take up where we’d left off. And the brutal part was, Nikki had tasked me with doing just that.

But when? Where, exactly? And how to get back the Whit I’d had earlier today and not this polite, accommodating one now?

After probably the twentieth mini-conversation, schmoozing like she’d taught a master’s class in it, she excused herself to the bathroom. I was left to sip a cocktail—something over the top and too sweet for my taste, so I was barely sipping—and talk to a nice couple who’d paid whatever it was people had paid to come here.

Then up sidled two younger couples who surrounded me.

“So you’re with Whit Grantham?” one of the men, decent-looking and slugging away at a martini, asked.

“I am.” I’d learned quickly that keeping my responses minimal was the key to not getting too wrapped up with any given conversation too long—a tip Whit had given me the first time we went out, and I’d stuck to it with great success.

“I can see why,” the man’s date, a glamorous-looking woman said as her eyes took me in from head to toe, then she tipped her drink to me and drank some down.

The other couple both chuckled gamely, but the other woman said, “And how do you feel about her being with Jamie Morris whenever you’re not around?”

I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a microphone shoved into my face, but so far, no sign of one. I took a sip of my too-sweet drink to buy time.

“He must be fine with it,” the other guys said. “I’ll admit I’d take what I could get from Whit Grantham if she wanted to give me some.”

He raised his eyebrows at the other guy, and they laughed like old friends.

“Hey, I would too. The woman is?—”

“I’m honored to be with Whit,” I cut in, not interested in what descriptors these two would use. My neck was getting hot, my jaw tightening.

“You sound thrilled, yeah. So what’s she like?” one of them asked.

“Yeah, does she use that voice in bed? My God, that’d be enough to?—”

“Excuse me, folks. I’ve got a call.” I waved my phone and hoped I could make it across the room and away from these idiots before my temper exploded. My heart racing, my jaw clenched, I went to find Whit and see how much longer we’d have to stay.

I didn’t want to be a creeper, but I wanted to make sure she was okay while I also made sure I was okay. I didn’t want to stage the kiss if she was upset, or concerned, or… anything other than ready for it. But if those jerks were questioning me about Morris, then obviously, we had work to do. I took a slow breath in through my nose, held it, let it out.

The restroom doors were tucked away in a dimly lit alcove. Just as I turned the corner, Whit came out of the bathroom, and her brows jumped at the sight of me.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, coming right to me, right into my space.

I shook my head once. “Nothing. I think I’m just tired—too much touristy stuff today, I guess.”

I wasn’t about to complain to her that the room was full of vulgar idiots. She’d come here to do a job—charming people for some reason or another, which I dumbly didn’t even remember.

“I don’t buy it, Holder,” she said softly with a half-smile on her glossy lips.

Something about that dulled the edge of my frustration.

I grabbed for her free hand and slid the other one along her neck and into her hair. “Some of the guests here are idiots.”

She chuckled, even though her eyes were flickering all over my face, likely trying to read where this intensity was coming from. “That’s almost always true.”

“How do you stand it? How can you stand people speculating about you and every part of your life?”

I wanted to press my lips to hers, to back her up against the wall and run my hands over all that dark green velvet. But I stayed standing right in my spot, watching as she responded.

One bare shoulder shrugged, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight, my eyes sliding along the slim line of her collarbone and up to her neck. My thumb stroked along the side of that graceful column, and I pushed my hand a little farther into the hair at the back of her head.

“You just do. I try to keep the main thing the main thing, and all that… it’s not the main thing.” She squeezed my hand and then dropped hers.

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