Page 7 of One Summer Weekend
“It’s about the vibe of the house. Look at her face. She’s trying not to smile and she’s got that eyebrow arched a little. And judging by the way his arm goes around her and where his hand would be, I’m pretty sure I knowwhyshe’s trying not to smile.”
“I have no idea what kind of vibe the guy feeling up his wife gives the house, but there’s already an epic screw-up with the room.”
She turned away from the painting to look at him. “How epic?”
“Instead of two doubles, our room has one king-sized bed.” He wasn’t sure what reaction he’d been expecting from her, but it wasn’t the quick bark of laughter. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Just remembering something Zoe said.”
“Care to share?”
“Nope.”
He’d expected her to push back about the sleeping arrangements, since the possibility of accidental spooning hadn’t been part of the deal. Although, come to think of it, she hadn’t actually asked about the beds to begin with. “When Jim was talking about the situation with the rooms and who should get which, I offered to take the double beds because you practically sleep on top of me, anyway. You like to snuggle.”
“Oh, I do?”
“That’s what I told him so, you know, he wouldn’t think it was weird that I offered to take two doubles over a king. But between them reserving rooms and now, the inn remodeled that room and went to a king, and nobody informed the wedding planners.”
He practically held his breath, waiting for her reaction. It would suck if Carly balked and he had to explain to Jim and Emily why they got back in his truck and went home before they even got to meet her.
“I guess it really doesn’t matter,” she said. “We’ve slept in the same bed before.”
“Yeah, when we were, what? Eight? Nine?”
“If you’re scared of me, you can build a wall of pillows down the middle of the bed like you did then.”
“For the record, I wasnotscared of you. I just didn’t want to catch girl cooties.”
“I still have girl cooties, you know.”
“Yeah, but you’re...” He waved a hand at her. “You’re not a girl anymore. And you’re Carly.”
“You’re an idiot. So where’s our room?”
“Third floor, but there’s an elevator.” He frowned. “The guy at the desk stressed three times that itreally is safe, so there’s a good chance we might die. I don’t know.”
They didn’t die, although they barely fit in the antique elevator, even with only one bag each. And it made a hell of a lot more noise than any elevator he’d ever been in before. But they arrived on the third floor and he found their room with no problem.
“Okay, thisdefinitelydoesn’t suck,” Carly said as she entered.
Noah had to agree. The room was spacious and elegant, with none of the nautical-themed décor people on the Cape seemed to love to serve up to the tourists. The color scheme was pale blue and tan, like water and sand, and a small desk and armchair were the only furnishings. No love seat, so he didn’t have to worry she’d try to make him sleep on the couch.
She went straight to the window, which he could see from the door had a great view of the ocean. He peeked behind the two closed doors, finding a closet and a bathroom. It wasn’t big and it had a single shower stall instead of a tub, but they didn’t have to share it with everybody on the third floor, so that was good.
“The drive took longer than I thought,” he said, even though he’d factored in the unspeakable traffic. “We should go downstairs soon.”
Tonight there was a cocktail mixer on the beach, so everybody could get to know each other before tomorrow’s ceremony. Because he’d been listening to Jim and Emily talk about the wedding for months, he knew there would be food, too.
Carly turned away from the window and unzipped the suitcase he’d put on the stand for her. “I have to unpack real quick first.”
“Unpack? We’ll only be here for the weekend. You don’t have to move in.”
“Maybe you don’t, Mister Permanent Press, but I’d rather not look like I dug my dresses out of the bottom of a laundry basket.”
“Dresses? Plural?”
“It’s a wedding, dumbass.”
