Page 82 of Love You
“Should we go over the itinerary again?” She’d worked on it all night Tuesday while he’d worked on her.
“Darce, you ever think you might be wound a little tight?”
She laughed. “Maybe, but that’s how I get stuff done. Although in this case, I don’t know why I bother, since you’re just going to make your own last-minute plan.”
“You’ve gotta admit that the impromptu hike, the bike ride, the picnic . . . it gave us an edge.”
“You have an awful high opinion of yourself.”
Instead of arguing, he pulled her in for kiss. She tasted like coffee, sugar, and something distinctly Darcy, a flavor that he constantly craved.
“We shouldn’t do this in here,” she said against his lips, but didn’t try to pull away.
He wanted to tell her that he was falling for her but wasn’t in the mood for one of her flippant remarks. Most women he’d dated would’ve given their right arm to hear those words, but not Darcy. She was a tough one to climb but he’d mastered some of the most difficult mountains in the world.
“No one can see us in here,” he said. “Stop always trying to run the show.”
For a second, she relaxed against him, tucking her head under his chin; then, just as suddenly, she grew restless. “We need to get this done.”
He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed but he was starting to see a pattern. She wasn’t so much of a control freak as she needed to feel useful. Organizing, setting up schedules, making busy work, Darcy could be like a machine sometimes.
There was nothing wrong with being productive. In fact, most people would see it as an asset. With Darcy, though, it was overcompensation. For her mother’s digs or Lewis’s neglect? Who could say? He certainly wasn’t Sigmund Freud but she sure as shit didn’t have to overcompensate with him.
“You want to work instead of making out, fine,” he said. “But tonight, you’re mine, baby.”
“You might be a sex addict, you know that?”
“So far, you seem to be benefiting from my so-called addiction.” He shot her a look, taking a slow visual slide down her body.
“I might need to stay home tonight. I don’t like leaving Nana alone too often. Besides, we both need our rest for tomorrow.”
Win sloughed off the rest bit. He could operate on very little sleep but Hilde was another story. “How is your grandmother?”
“She’s doing much better. It seems the change in her medication made all the difference. But I want to keep an eye on her.”
“I could come over to your place.” He started sorting through the helmets.
“We’ll see,” she said coyly.
“Darce, it’s not like we haven’t been sleeping together for weeks.” He backed her up against one of the shelving units and began kissing her all over again.
* * *
Darcy thought Madison De Wolk was ten times more beautiful than her bio photo on the FlashTag website. She was tall and slender with dark hair and blue eyes. Madison reminded Darcy a little of Delaney. At least lookswise. She deboarded a small plane in business attire—a pencil skirt, white blouse, and high heels—and Darcy assumed she’d come straight from the office.
The pilot loaded a small designer travel bag into the back of the van and Madison swung up into the passenger seat and nodded to Darcy as if to sayI’m ready to go now.
Darcy suddenly got an attack of the shies but managed to mutter, “Welcome to Glory Junction. I’m Darcy Wallace and I’ll be—”
“Pleased to meet you, Darcy. The Four Seasons, right?” Madison turned away and began texting on her phone.
“Yes,” Darcy sputtered. When she didn’t immediately start the engine, Madison glanced up from her screen with impatience in her eyes.
Okay, right, she wanted to go. Darcy nosed out of the small airport parking lot and headed to the hotel. She’d hoped to talk a little bit about Saturday’s schedule but Madison continued tapping away on her phone, not even bothering to look out the window at the passing view. Perhaps she was dealing with a work emergency. As Madison was the CEO of a burgeoning start-up, Darcy assumed she’d have to deal with crises.
As she drove, she snuck a few sideways peeks at Madison. Even Darcy’s mother would’ve been impressed with how put together she was. Her blouse looked custom tailored, her shoes were Jimmy Choos, and her bag, Tory Burch. The long slit up the side of her skirt showed off a pair of tan, shapely legs that practically went up to her eyeballs. Win was always going on about Darcy’s legs. Wait until he caught sight of Madison’s. Maybe Darcy should tell her that tomorrow’s activities would require long pants—and a super-baggy top.
She was almost relieved that his all-day white-water rafting tour had kept him from picking up Madison. Stupid, but Madison and Win were in the same league. The league of beautiful people.
