Page 71 of Just Say Yes

When we got closer, I gestured toward the end of the hallway. “That way and to the left.”

Our room was nestled at the back of a long corridor. The suite was secluded from other parts of the hotel, offering an upscale and private experience.

I didn’t know if a fancy room could fix a shitty day, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. The second I saw the view and the plush bed, I knew it was exactly what MJ needed: space to breathe, to feel safe.

The team didn’t normally stay at such a ritzy hotel, but I had made special arrangements. I’d wanted to give her something nice after what I knew was a brutal day. Maybe it was overkill, but if it made her smile, it was worth every penny. And sure ... I wanted to impress her a little. The boutique hotel was ridiculously expensive, but for good reason.

Using my key card, I unlocked the door and moved aside to allow MJ to enter first.

“What the hell ...” she called out.

I grinned and stepped in beside her. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered an impressive view of the city skyline and Lake Michigan.

The suite came with a private butler, who nodded with a subtle bow. “Welcome to the presidential suite, Ms. King. Mr. Brown.”

I stepped past MJ’s gaping stare and extended a hand. “Thank you. What’s your name, sir?”

“Benedict, sir.”

I shook his hand. “Thanks, Benedict. I’m Logan. This is MJ.” When I looked at MJ, her mouth was open. With a grin, I used my knuckle to push it closed and diverted my attention back to Benedict.

“A pleasure,” he said. “I can take that.” He gestured toward MJ’s duffel on my shoulder, and I passed it to him. “The other piece of luggage was delivered this morning, and I took the liberty of unpacking it in the primary bedroom.”

“Thanks, Ben.” I smiled and gently patted a shocked MJ on the back.

Benedict was completely unfazed by MJ’s gawking. “May I prepare some coffee or tea? If you’d like, I can arrange for room service or a dinner reservation, if you prefer.”

I smiled at him. “I think we’ll take a minute to settle in. If we need anything, I will let you know.”

Benedict bowed again. “Very well, sir. If you need anything at all, you can pick up the phone and dial nine-two-four. That is my direct line, or you can communicate with me directly via the hotel’s app.”

I held out my hand again. “I appreciate that.”

Benedict shook my hand and disappeared into the primary bedroom with MJ’s bag.

“Pretty nice, right?” I asked.

MJ turned and blinked at me. “Pretty nice?” She gestured around the room. “Pretty nice?”

I grinned. The suite was bigger than the apartment I was renting, and the atmosphere in the suite was cool and casual. The architectural details were evident in each space. The kitchen area was spacious and clean. There was a sitting area near a fireplace. One bedroom was to the left, tucked behind French-style doors, and another to the right. I may have canceled the extra room, but when given the opportunity to upgrade to the presidential suite, I took it.

Benedict silently exited, and I felt the knot in my shoulder release. I’d spent the entire day distracted with worry about MJ and how things were going for her. My head wasn’t where it needed to be, but now that she was here, I could relax.

I watched as MJ explored the suite, her fingers grazing over the back of the chairs near the fire. She stopped by the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out over Lake Michigan.

“Think we can see Outtatowner from here?” she asked with a wistful note to her voice.

The way her lips curved into that soft smile—god, it did something to me. For a moment the shadows under her eyes faded, replaced by this quiet hope that lit her up from the inside.

An undefined part of me wanted to be the one who kept that light burning.

I sidled up behind her. “I think if I squint really hard, I can almost see the lighthouse.”

She hummed a laugh, knowing it was bullshit. My hands smoothed up her arms, hating the layers of fabric between us. I could feel the tension radiating off her, but she hadn’t opened up about how her meeting had gone.

It felt too awkward to ask, so I figured distraction was the next-best option.

“So what do you feel like?” I asked. “The team dinner is at Nivori, a French-Japanese fusion restaurant. Or we can order something and hang out here. Lady’s choice.”

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