The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,294

You?”

Libby chuckled. “Well, I’ll give it a go.”

“Be careful, Libby. Just don’t let your heart get hurt, okay?”

“I walked out on a wedding, Blair. I think my jaded heart is safe.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Just send my stuff to Caesar’s Palace in care of Noah. He made the reservation.”

“When are you planning to come home?” Blair asked again.

Libby hesitated. “I don’t know.” She wouldn’t admit that part of her was tempted to take Noah up on his offer to move to Seattle and stay with him, albeit only temporarily. She could room with him until she found her own place. There was nothing for her in Kansas City anymore, and besides, Noah was right. The art scene was much better in the Pacific Northwest.

Maybe she needed a change. Maybe it was time to reinvent herself.

Chapter Eleven

It was still early after they finished eating, so Noah suggested a change of plan. They pushed on to Amarillo, three hours away. This time the room had two queen beds. After Libby got dressed for bed, Noah tried to ignore the tantalizing fact that her pajama shorts and camisole left more parts of her exposed than covered.

When he came out of the bathroom, she was already in one of the beds, propped up on pillows, her hair spilled out around her.

She was gorgeous. He knew this, yet sometimes when he saw her, she took his breath away. But her earlier words—“Noah’s not husband material”—still rang in his head. He really needed to get Abrahams to sign the deal so he could get his job back and prove himself to Libby.

He climbed into bed. “You ready to go to sleep?”

“Yeah,” was her soft reply.

He flipped off the light and let his eyes adjust to the dark as he put his hands behind his head.

“Thank you.” Her words were so quiet, he almost missed them.

He laughed. “For taking you to see a hairball? Most women would have taken off running.”

“Just goes to show how much you really know me.”

And he did know her. He knew that she liked her coffee with several tablespoons of hazelnut creamer. And that she hated to wear socks, even in the winter. That she sucked at parallel parking and had accrued a whopping seven unpaid parking tickets. He knew she often got so absorbed in a photography project, she’d go all day without eating. But when she did eat, she didn’t pick around her food—she had a healthy appetite. He knew she had a kind and loving heart and that she’d do anything for her friends.

And he knew that he loved her.

He expected to be more surprised by the revelation, but perhaps he’d been warming up to it since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. A part of him had guessed at the truth for months. The real question was how he could make her see that they were meant for each other.

“It was a perfect day. I don’t think anyone else would have guessed what I truly needed today. So, yes, a giant hairball and world record egg were perfect. One day, when you finally decide to settle down, you’ll make some woman very happy.”

“What about you?” he asked, deciding to go for it. His pulse quickened and he forced his breathing to remain steady, every sound amplified in the dark.

She released a soft chuckle. “I think maybe it’s time for me to reexamine my life.”

He mentally kicked himself. Obviously, he’d posed the question the wrong way. “Like what?”

“I’ve been thinking about your offer.” She rolled onto her side to face him, propping her head on her upraised hand. He could see her profile in the light filtering through the cracks of the draperies. It reminded him of her photography project and he suddenly wished he had a camera to preserve this moment. But he knew he’d never capture it the same way she would.

“Oh?” What was she talking about? He couldn’t remember making any offer. “And what did you decide?” he asked, hoping her answer would jog his memory.

“I think I want to move to Seattle and stay with you.”

Blood rushed to his head as he fought his emotions. Could it really be that easy?

“It wouldn’t be for long,” she added.

What? Then he remembered how he’d posed the offer. He’d suggested that she move in as his roommate, not his partner. He struggled to form a response, finally settling on, “You can stay as long as you want, Lib.” Stupid. That was stupid.

She laid back down on her back.