“Screw those plans,” he said immediately, and we both burst out laughing. “We’ll do all that tomorrow,” he said, gaze back on my breasts. “But now…”
I took his glass and set it next to my own. “Now.”
We dove at each other.
*
When I wokethe next morning, I was shocked to see it was almost 10:00 a.m. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so late and so hard. Of course, I’d gotten quite a bit of exercise in the last twenty-four hours, and we hadn’t slept more than an hour or two at a time.
I sat up in bed, wincing. My hip flexors downright ached from all of the, ahem, thrusting. I was going to need to take up Pilates or something. Not that Bobby had had any complaints about my flexibility. Indeed, he’d been pretty damncomplimentary about the way I’d bent myself over in front of the bathroom mirror, so that we could both watch him—
Where was he, anyway?
His side of the bed was empty and the sheets were cool. “Bobby?” I called. My voice carried out of the bedroom, and the bungalow wasn’t large. No answer. Hmmm. Maybe he’d gotten antsy waiting for my sleepy ass to wake up. Maybe he’d gone for a run or for coffees or something.
I dug through my suitcase and pulled on pajama pants and a T-shirt before heading out to the kitchen and living room to see if he’d left a note or text on my phone. Nope. I poured myself a glass of water from the tap and opened the French doors. It was a beautiful morning, sunny and cool, probably about fifty degrees. Goose bumps rose on my bare arms. Where was he?
Fifteen minutes later, Bobby finally walked through the bungalow door. He was not in running clothes or carrying coffees. A worry line creased his forehead—something I’d rarely seen. “Hey,” I said from my perch on the sofa. “Everything OK?”
He nodded quickly, but the worry line held firm. “All good.”
After the kind of night we’d spent together, I expected him to come to the sofa, to kiss me with a loud smack, and make a flirty, sexy, or charming-Bobby comment. But he circled the small room instead, chewing his lip and giving me way too much space.
I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat. Did he regret last night, the day before? I couldn’t imagine why, but I’d never seen him this agitated before. “What is wrong?” My voice was small and tight.
His gaze darted over, took in my wide eyes and newly hunched, defensive posture. “Nothing!” he exclaimed, finally swooping over to cuddle me. He squeezed me against him, pressed a kiss to my forehead. Just as I was about to relax,though, he stood again. “Sorry. I was just thinking how we should go to the pool. Right now.”
I raised my eyebrows. Really? He was acting all weird and impatient because he wanted to go to the hot springs? “OK,” I said slowly, drawing the word out. I supposed that’s why we were here. But really? Right now? He wanted to leave our beautiful private cocoon to head to the pool where the majority of the resort’s guests were sure to be on this beautiful morning?
“Great!” Bobby practically ran from the room. “I’ll get my suit on. Meet you out front when you’re ready.” The bathroom door slammed behind him.
I stood up, stomach churning. Was he bored of me and desperate for the company of others? Or somehow freaked out that I’d expect our relationship to change in some way now that we’d slept together? I hadn’t known what to expect from our morning after, but I certainly hadn’t expected this nervousness and distance.
I pulled on my swimsuit and the heavy white robe the resort provided to all guests. My messy hair went in a bun on top of my head. I wanted to put on the armor of makeup, but that didn’t make any sense as we were headed into what was essentially an enormous hot tub.
Bobby was waiting for me out front, pacing, on the path. His sunglasses were on, hiding his eyes. They couldn’t hide that worry line though, or the way he was practically vibrating with tension. Or the way he didn’t speak on the three-minute walk to the pool. In the six weeks I’d known Bobby, this was the only completely silent time between us.
This was ridiculous. Something was clearly wrong, and I was going to find out what it was. I bit my lip and marched in front of Bobby to the entrance of the pool. Hundreds of other guests be damned. I’d find a private corner for us somewhere and demand to know what was going on.
I was so determined and distracted that I was ten feet into the enormous pool space before I realized that it was completely empty.
I stopped in my tracks, and my mouth dropped open. The Olympic-sized pool of geyser-fed water was gorgeous, steam rising from its entire length, like a scene from a modern fairy tale. I swiveled my head from side to side, taking in the surrounding stone architecture, the multiple levels where hundreds of reclining chairs lay side by side, all empty. Had we make a mistake? Was the pool closed?
“Bobby,” I started, and turned back to face him.
He was on one knee.
Oh my God. Oh my freakin’ God. What was happening?
The sunglasses were on the ground next to him, so I could see his turquoise eyes now: so serious, so scared. In his hands, proffered up to me, was a ring box from one of San Francisco’s most famous jewelers.
“We only have the pool to ourselves for an hour,” he whispered. “That’s the most I could get from the hotel manager, even with a lot of begging and pleading and my trademark charm. It’s not enough time for me to tell you how much I love you or all the reasons I want to marry you, but it’s enough time to start the conversation at least.”
Something was wrong with me. I couldn’t stop blinking—oh, that’s because tears were brimming in my eyes. My shuddering breaths were loud and echoing in this cathedral of silence and steam. My brain was broken. Bobby loved me? I had hoped he did, with every fiber of my being, but I’d never even dared to think further than him saying it aloud.
Oh my, he was still talking and I really, really needed to listen to him instead of the incredulity in my own mind. “I started to fall for you the first night we met. I’ve fallen deeper with every hour that we’ve spent together. I never want to stop. I neverwant to stop falling for you or talking to you or making love to you. I love you, Em.”
The fat tears finally fell from my eyes and slid down my hot face. “I love you too. I feel like I always have. Like I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.” I didn’t like that he was down on the cold pavement by himself. I knelt in front of him, my bare knees grinding against the sidewalk. I grabbed him by the back of the neck and we kissed, feverishly, my tears intermingling with his.