Merger to Marriage (Boardrooms and Billi - By Addison Fox Page 0,40
on the way to their hotel, and Holt had figured it was their best bet.
He laid down his menu. “You were really good with the kids.”
“Right back at you. They loved you. And I think Annette has a little crush.”
He took a moment to weigh his words, before simply opting to say what was on his mind. “They weren’t what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“Children who didn’t have any hope.”
Her curiosity was evident in the tilt of her head. “And what do you think now?”
“I think the time you spend up here must refresh your soul and renew your belief in the goodness of others.”
“That’s rather poetic.”
“It’s not poetic if it’s true.”
She laid a hand over his and the warmth that simply defined her zinged up his arm at the contact. “Can’t it be both?”
“Mayson—” Her name caught in his throat as they stared at each other across the old, scarred Formica table. The need for her—at times so blindingly urgent he could barely take a breath—rose up to swamp him. How had she become so necessary? And in such a short period of time.
“What is it?”
“It’s not just for the business deal. And it’s not just about my mother.”
Understanding dawned deep in her eyes. “What’s it about, then?”
“Us. It’s about us.”
Long moments stretched out between them, an ocean of calm and quiet amidst the noise of the diner.
…
Mayson stepped into the hotel lobby, her hand linked with Holt’s. The need to touch him was constant, a living, breathing fire under her skin.
Us. It’s about us.
His words played on a loop in her mind, over and over again like a lullaby.
She’d seen a new side to him today. His gentleness with the horses, and his innate kindness to the children, Annette especially. He’d given her a special gift—the gift of his attention and his respect—and another piece of her heart had crumbled.
In that moment, when Holt had stood admiring Annette’s paintings, she caught a glimpse of the father he’d be. While the two of them might need work, if she had any concerns about his ability to parent, they had vanished in that moment.
“Here you go, Ms. McBride.” She’d volunteered to book the room since she stayed in town so frequently, and had suspected Holt would be all right with the arrangements she’d planned. Even with the expectation he’d be fine with it, she still didn’t miss the subtle widening of his eyes as the desk manager handed her one set of room keys.
Holt came to a stop before their assigned room, shifting his overnight bag to deal with the lock. “You’re sure this is okay?”
“More than okay. You?”
“No, Mayson.” With a broad smile, he pushed one foot against the door to prop it open before leaning back and pressing a quick kiss to her mouth. “I’d rather sleep down the hall.”
Lifting up onto tiptoes, she nipped a kiss on the underside of his jaw. “You’re such a stickler for propriety.”
Strong arms came around her as he dragged them both into the room. “That’s me.”
His lips came down on hers and all the pent up need and longing from the last few weeks came crashing through both of them with the strength of gale-force winds. Mayson did the only thing she could think of, the only thing that felt right: she clung to him and held on.
Heavy knots of lust tightened her muscles, pushing her body on as each of them shed the items they carried. His overnight bag fell to the floor near their feet with a heavy thud, and her small suitcase lay on its side, fallen where they’d both knocked against it.
As they moved further inside, mouths fused and hands roaming, their clothing fell in piles, like a trail of breadcrumbs toward the bedroom. When Holt finally came down on top of her on the bed, his heavy weight a lush reward for the journey, Mayson could only giggle. “That was a pretty impressive feat, Mr. Turner. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten out of my clothes that fast.”
“It’s a rare skill.”
“And a dangerous one.” She shifted her hand between their bodies, her fingers closing over the hard length of him.
His eyes glittered in the dim light of the room. “You’re a temptress.”
“With you.” She pressed her lips to his, trying to say with her body where words failed her. “Only with you.”
When he responded, his mouth a carnal feast on hers and his body pressed intimately against her, Mayson knew the words she spoke were truth.