Dating the Boss (Blue Harbor #2) - Jaclyn Osborn Page 0,21
was in a damn fairy tale. I had the amazing mansion in the middle of the forest, now I just needed my prince. “More like… you’re this sophisticated badass, and I’m the lowly servant.”
He shocked me with a deep chuckle. “You’re not a servant, Reed, and you’re far from lowly. You’re confident and know what you want in life. A go-getter. I admire that.”
He admired me?
Why the fuck did that make my heart skip a beat?
We reached the top of the stairs and turned right. I appreciated the design of the manor. It was classy and elegant, but also lived-in and kind of old-fashioned. Quinn would’ve loved it.
“Here we are,” Daniel said, stopping at the last door in the hall.
A corner room. Yay. That meant more privacy. Not that I expected us to do anything once inside. We’d sleep in our separate beds as far away from each other as possible.
“Open the door,” I said. “The suspense is killing me.”
He slid the key into the lock and turned the handle before entering the room and flipping on the light.
“There’s a freaking fireplace?” I asked in awe, walking in behind him. “Oh hell. If only we had some wine. Then it’d be perfect.”
Daniel stopped walking so suddenly that I bumped into his back. I was about to gripe at him when I saw what he was looking at.
“There’s only one bed,” I whispered, eyes wide and my heart beating faster.
Oh, fuck.
Chapter Six
Daniel
“I’ll ask Ian if there’s a cot,” I said, placing my laptop bag and briefcase on the bed before turning around.
Reed was so close, and when he glanced up at me with big, hazel eyes, my cock swelled. There better be a cot because there was no way in hell we could share a bed. I could barely restrain myself enough as it was.
“Do you want me to go instead?” he asked. “You look exhausted.”
“So do you.” I stepped around him and headed for the door. “I’ll be back in a minute. Go ahead and get ready for bed. It’s been a long day.”
Understatement of the century.
The sound of clothes rustling behind me had my cock hardening even more, and I quickly left the room, then adjusted myself once outside in the hall. I took a deep breath, held it, and released it, hoping my desire for Reed fled with the rush of expelled air.
A door opened, and a young woman with short brown hair stepped out. She was wearing a red silk robe over cotton pants and fuzzy slippers.
“Good evening,” she greeted me with a smile. “Did you just get in?”
“Yes. Forced here by the lovely weather.”
She chuckled and pulled her robe closer around her. “I’m Claire.”
I didn’t know why she was being so friendly. Usually people at other hotels just ignored everyone else during their stay. But maybe the comfortable environment of the bed-and-breakfast affected that.
“Daniel Sawyer,” I said, shaking her hand.
“Well, don’t let me keep you, Daniel. I was just going down to the kitchen for something to drink.”
The door opened again, and a shirtless man with messy red hair and lovesick eyes leaned out. Scratch marks covered his back. “Can you see if there are any snacks too? I’m starving.” He looked at me. “Oh. Hey.”
“Hello,” I said, fighting a smile. Newlyweds, probably. “Have a good night.”
I continued down the hall and descended the stairs to the first floor. Neither Ian or Cole were at the front desk, so I ventured farther through the manor. I found the two men in a large parlor, sitting in front of a blazing fire as they sipped wine and laughed to themselves, Cole resting against Ian’s arm.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said.
“Is everything okay?” Ian asked, gently shifting out from under Cole and standing.
“Yes, everything’s fine. Well, almost. There’s only one bed in our room, so I was wondering if there was a cot we could have for the night.”
“Of course,” Ian responded, setting his glass of wine on the side table and walking across the room toward me. “I’m sorry. That didn’t occur to me.” He led me down a corridor and to what looked like a storage closet. He opened the door and stepped inside, coming back a moment later rolling a cot. Sheets and a pillow were tucked under his arm. “I’ll help you take it to your room.”
“How long have you run this place?” I asked, grabbing the sheets and pillow from him.
“Five years,” he answered as we made our way back to the entryway toward