Page 8 of Triple Tidings
For fuck’s sake.
What am I going to do? Stare at these walls all day? Go downstairs and try to smooth things over with Lacey?Ha. The shop might be closed, but I’m sure as fuck not going to hang around here for the whole day.
Lurching forward, I snatch my coat off the back of the armchair and step out into the hallway, which is lined by wood-paneled doors, each adorned with its own Christmas wreath. It’s quiet, and my footsteps are muffled by the plush runner as I head for the stairs, hoping and praying that I don’t encounter Lacey in the lobby.
Luck isn’t on my side.
I’ve barely made it halfway down when a familiar, curvy blonde emerges from the dining room, bearing a small, doily-lined tray of freshly baked scones. She doesn’t see me, but the back of my neck prickles as I watch her make her way over to the desk and set them down on the corner, turning the tray a fewdegrees so it’s visible from the front door. When she’s satisfied it’s just right, she goes to round the desk but pauses when her gaze finds my frozen form.
“Oh! Good morning!” she offers, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as I manage to get my stiff limbs moving again, resuming my path to the front door.
“Morning,” I grunt, careful not to look at her as I pause in the little entryway, shoving my arms into my coat.
Before I’ve even reached for the zipper, however, Lacey’s cheerful voice comes from behind me. “Would you like a scone? They’re my grandmother’s recipe, rosemary and cheddar.”
They smell incredible, and my stomach—which is ordinarily full of a bagel or two by this point in the day—growls. Reluctantly, I turn to face her. Lacey is hovering beside the front desk; her full lips curved in a tentative smile.
Fuck me, she’s pretty. “Uh.” I glance at the door again. “I should really get going.”
“Oh! No problem. Next time.” Her smile doesn’t slip, but some of the brightness in her eyes dims as she moves to the other side of the desk, busying herself with sorting through a pile of mail as I stand there like the world’s biggest asshole.
Who am I kidding? I’ve had athingfor Lacey Lovette for years, and even a hint of disappointment in her face is enough to get my ass in line.
Clearing my throat, I edge away from the door. “Yeah, okay. I’ll take one.”
Lacey’s eyes are wide as she looks back up at me. “Oh, you don’t have to!”
“Nah.” I wave her off, drawing closer now. “They smell great. Thanks.”
They really do, too.
I don’t meet her eye as I stop beside the desk and take the napkin resting atop the neat little spiral she’s set out, helpingmyself to one of the scones. They’re still warm. Sensing her eyes on me, and knowing what she’s hoping for, I take a bite.
Jesus fuck.Is there anything about this woman that isn’t perfect?
“Incredible,” I mutter, shaking my head in mute disbelief once I’ve swallowed the first mouthful. My pulse skips as I glance up, meeting the eye of the beautiful young woman standing just a few feet away from me, her lips pressed together to stop herself from looking too pleased at the praise.
It’s all too easy for my filthy imagination to conjure up a whole list ofotherways she could be a good girl for me.
I’m thankful for the thick denim of my pants as my cock swells at the thought. Jesus, the way she looked on her knees for me…
“You can take another for the road, if you want,” Lacey offers sweetly, lowering her eyes as I take another bite. “I guess it’s been a terrible flu season, and we lost almost all our bookings for the weekend. It’s just you and another guest.”
That has me frowning. “You’re staying here for two people? That’s not right. Tell us to get lost.”
Lacey giggles, shaking her head. “Oh my gosh, no! It’s my job, and I really don’t mind. Besides”—she fixes me with a playfully stern look—“I couldn’t possibly turn you away. You’d freeze!”
“I appreciate that,” I chuckle, the tension in my shoulders loosening a bit. “Pick out a book next time you come in. On the house. For taking me in.”
She waves this off, but there’s a cute-as-shit little blush on her cheeks as she leans forward, watching me finish off the scone. I could eat the entire plate, they’re so good, and my eagerness to get the hell out of here has evaporated into thin air as we stand here talking. It hasn’t even been a few minutes, and I’m already kicking myself for telling her I had to get going.
“Did you grow up around here?” I ask, searching wildly for a way to keep her talking.
“I did,” Lacey confirms. “My family lived right over on Crescent Street.”
“No shit? I was over on Maple Ave.”
She leans in a little closer, eyes bright. “Right around the corner, huh? How did we miss each other?”
