Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)

Vaughn tugged on the handle before I could reach for it. He lifted it from the bed and walked toward the apartment door.

“Coming?” He turned to wait for me.

I grabbed the keys, my purse, and locked the door behind us.

“Is this your car?” It was simple and non-descript. I pictured him driving something sleek, not a four-door sedan.

I waited on the curb while he placed my suitcase in the trunk. It had already started getting dark.

“No. I rented one for the weekend.”

“Oh.”

He held the door for me and I climbed into the passenger seat.

I watched his confident strides as he walked in front of the headlights. Once Vaughn was behind the wheel I let my shoulders relax.

“Hard day?” he asked. He must have noticed the change in my posture.

Everything about the trip felt surreal. I didn’t realize until now that I had been holding my breath, waiting for something to happen. Something that would keep us from leaving. Garrett. Work. Vaughn deciding this was too much too soon. I hadn’t let myself fully believe we would go away together until I sat in the car. It hit me, all the anxiety had been a useless waste of time.

Vaughn started the car and led us away from the row of brownstones. I frowned when I saw the endless line of taillights ahead of us. Everyone was trying to get out of D.C. for the weekend.

“How long did you say it takes to get there?” I asked.

?

??Longer with the traffic, but we should be there in a couple of hours.” He squeezed my knee.

Country lanes or city lights—I didn’t care. I was ok with a long car ride. I was ok with being stuck in a traffic jam. I was ok because I was with Vaughn. My hand slid over top of his and I sat back for the trip.

When we pulled up in front of the inn, I looked around for other cars.

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

Vaughn hopped from his side and walked around to let me out of the car.

“Must still be in traffic,” he suggested.

I followed him inside. The door creaked as he opened it. But the house was full of charm. I loved it. The weathered beams overhead. The worn hardwood floors. It was gorgeous.

“Wait here,” he directed. “I’ll check us in.”

I stood by the door as he exchanged information with the man behind the desk and received the key.

“We’re ready.” He dangled it in front of me. “Why don’t you go upstairs and I’ll get the bags?”

“I can help you.”

He shook me off. “No. Go on up. I’ll be there in a minute. There isn’t much to carry.”

I reluctantly turned from him, taking the key, and walking up the staircase that extended from the center of the foyer.

It felt good to stretch my legs. Our room was at the end of the hall on the second floor. I turned the key in the lock. There was a monstrous four-poster bed. Across from it was a fireplace. There was a small fire burning. I walked toward it, feeling the gentle waves of heat floating in the air.

The flames crackled and popped, licking the logs in the grate. I wondered if Vaughn had called ahead to make all these arrangements.

It was easy to feel as if we had escaped the city and all the complications that lived there. It might be for only a weekend, but I could pretend Vaughn had rescued me. H was keeping me safe and protected where the only thing we had to worry about was each other.