Restraint - Adriana Locke Page 0,32
ask, sinking back into my chair in anticipation of Blaire’s voice.
“Hi, Holt.”
“Hi, Blaire.”
My internal rhythms change immediately, evening out into a steady pace. The wariness from my conversation with Wade and the uncertainty I felt as I studied the plans are gone. In their place is an excitement that I can’t—and don’t want to—deny.
“Are you having a good day?” she asks.
“Wade just left my office so … not really.” I laugh. “I’m in the office. What about you?”
“Am I interrupting? Because I can call back or—”
“No,” I say, sitting up. “It’s just me now. I need a break anyway.”
She blows out a light breath.
“What about you?” I ask again. “Are you having a good day?”
“Yes, actually. Well, I was until the baby across the hall started crying again. I’m starting to think it has colic.”
I furrow my brow. “What’s colic?”
“It’s when babies cry for no apparent reason. My youngest brother, Machlan, had it when he was a baby. He would cry every afternoon from four o’clock to seven thirty on the dot. It was the strangest thing.”
“Huh. Well, I don’t know much about babies other than I’m not sure I’m built for diapers.”
She laughs. “Me either. My nana keeps pushing me to have kids before she dies, which is a completely morbid thought in my opinion. I’m hoping my brothers hurry up and have kids so the pressure gets taken off me.”
“But you’re the only girl, right?”
“Yes.”
“That might make a difference,” I counter. “She might want to see her maternal line move another generation.”
“Well, she should’ve had more children and upped her odds.”
“That’s what I tell my mother. She’s always telling us that we need to have daughters since she had five boys. I tell her it’s not my fault.” I laugh. “Then we tell her that Boone will definitely have daughters with all the estrogen in his blood so it’s not a worry.”
Blaire laughs. “So Boone is the one you tease?”
“Nah, we all get teased for different things. Boone’s the baby, so he gets punked a little more just because of birth order … and the fact that he really embraces the baby-of-the-family role.”
“Machlan is the baby in our family, and he does the punking. Except to Walker. I don’t think they’ve ever actually fought, but I’m not sure who would win.”
I fiddle with the top button of my shirt. It takes a few tries before I get it undone.
Rising to my feet, I walk over to the windows. The sun is still warm even though it’s flirting with the horizon. The day whizzed by. This time last night, Blaire and I were on our way to Picante. That seems unreal. It also seems unreal that I might not see her again if she leaves tomorrow.
“Did you give any thought to my offer?” I ask.
She hesitates. “Yes, actually. I did.”
“And …?”
“I was thinking that it might not be a terrible idea to stay in Savannah for a few more days and see the city.”
My reflection in the glass shows just how big my smile grows.
“I think that’s great,” I say.
“Do you? Because I can always get a hotel room in Chicago. I don’t want to be a charity case. I’ve considered that maybe—”
“Blaire?”
“Yes?”
“You’re rambling,” I tease.
She laughs. “I’m sorry. I just … I don’t know what to say right now, to be honest. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”
I lean against the window. The tension in the back of my neck is gone, as is the ache in my jaw that developed when Wade walked in the door earlier. I feel like I could go for a run or turn on the television—both things I never feel energized enough for or peaceful enough to do, depending.
“How about you just say that you need my address?” I offer.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
She sighs. “Okay. Holt, I need your address so that I can come tomorrow after check-out. So probably around noon-ish.”
I shove off the glass. “Why don’t you just come now?”
“Because I just told you I’d come by tomorrow.”
I hear the edge in her voice—the one that serves as a warning not to push her. The strength and fearlessness in her tone makes me fucking hard. It also makes me want to push.
“Fair enough,” I throw back. “Stay in the room with the crying baby instead of coming to my house where I’ll be working in pure silence while ordering takeout. That makes total sense.”
I hold my breath as she analyzes my point. It’s a good one. I’m sure of it.