Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,39

seeking an escape by trading their city island for a more rural one.

Ben hangs up a phone call and meets me in the middle of the lobby. He looks like a boarding school orgasm in a navy polo that fits his muscled torso perfectly, exposing tanned arms and neck and linen shorts. His hair is wavy and long, his Ray-Bans stuck back on his head.

I smile brightly, and he returns it, cocking his head in curiosity. “Everything good?”

“Yeah. Great.”

The bellhop leads the way to our suite, and Ben sends him off with a tip. When the man’s gone, I survey the living area. There’s a couch and a wingback chair facing a TV, plus sliding doors that close off a separate area with a king bed.

I’m still staring at that bed, anticipation running through me, when he speaks.

“So you have some kind of photo shoot this afternoon?”

“I hired a photographer to capture the couple being more relaxed.”

“Smart.”

“I hope so. Then a reception tomorrow and the bachelorette.”

He follows my gaze toward the bed, and I grimace. “I asked for two beds but they couldn’t accommodate.”

Ben hangs his garment bag and mine in the closet by the door. “Vane expects us to be a couple.”

Irritation rises. I shift on my platform heels and smooth down the fabric of my black sleeveless D&G jumpsuit. “He won’t be dropping by our room.”

“So what’s the problem—you think I’ll attack you?” He turns back and his wolfish grin makes me press my thighs together.

I open my rolling suitcase on the luggage rack and take my small bag of makeup and hygiene products to the bathroom, avoiding his gaze. “Of course not. It’s a busy weekend and I want to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Which you won’t get on account of all this hotness in arm’s reach?” He leans in the doorway of the bathroom, watching me set out my toothbrush, toothpaste, and skincare products.

I turn toward him, folding my arms. “I’m regretting this already. Please leave me the dog and go.”

Instead of complying, he steps into the bathroom, stopping when his hips brush mine. “Do something for me, darling.”

My breath sticks in my throat.

“Scope out the liquor. If I’m on the clock, I’m damn well enjoying it.”

“If you promise not to call me that.”

“What would you prefer? Sweet thing? Baby?"

They're both ridiculous, but the casual way he says them makes me wish he'd say nothing else all day.

I shove his shoulder before brushing past him to get back out into the suite.

“Enjoy the photo shoot, darling,” he calls after me.

“Don’t drink yourself into oblivion, sweet thing,” I toss over my shoulder.

I go down to the photo shoot area, a private stretch of beach within view of the hotel. The photographer shows up after I’ve spent a couple minutes scoping the sand for a good location.

"I want it to feel easy and natural," I tell the photographer, going over what we discussed already. "Get the property in the background if you can but make it effortless."

As planned, Aiden and Camila show up fifteen minutes later, looking flawless and elegant in a linen suit and a designer sundress.

As the photographer works with the couple, I cast a look back at the hotel. On the porch, Ben’s pacing and on his phone. I should’ve known Ben was joking about drinking in the middle of the day. He probably lied about having nothing to do this weekend too. The awards gala is coming up, and though he says it's a done deal, he must be feeling nerves.

Him coming here feels like a big deal. He prefers to take his weekends off, when he can get them. Pretending for my job doesn’t seem like much fun, and certainly not relaxing.

I’m still admiring him when Camila comes over on a break. “The handsome ones are the most dangerous. How long have you been together?”

“We’ve been friends since school.”

“That’s lovely. Don’t let him go.”

My chest tightens at her words. I’m not the kind of woman who gets swept off her feet by the gorgeous rich guy with the wicked smile.

But he’s not a type. He’s Ben.

He plays Fortnite.

Wears his hair “I’m in a band” long.

Worries about his mom.

Carries my dog in his pocket.

I have friends, but Ben's the closest person in the world to me—next to Lil, and even then, there are things I tell him that I won’t tell her. Professional fears, personal ambitions.

The other night, the admiration on his face seemed to blur with something intense, something that had me wishing