“We’ve gone this far,” I teased. “Might as well finish this thing.” As soon as I said it, I turned beet red, setting Harper on the ground again.
I covered my face trying to hide my humiliation but her laughter brought me back out into the open and I peeked between my fingers.
“Please,” Harper said, grabbing my hands and pulling them down, “I knew what you meant.” I smirked and shrugged my shoulders. “It was funny, though,” she said and I couldn’t help but laugh with her.
“So,” I said, suddenly realizing we were alone in a very posh hotel room with absolutely nothing to do.
“So,” she copied.
“So,” I said again.
“Okay, let’s just get it out in the open.”
“Get what out in the open?” I asked.
“You know.” She hesitated.
“What?” I questioned, raising one brow. “Get what out in the open, Harper?”
She turned beet red.
“I’m beat,” she said, chickening out. “I’ll think I’ll take a bath. I haven’t had one of those since I was a little girl.”
This made my heart sink a little for her. She deserved daily bubble baths in giant porcelain claw tubs. I yanked her hand back as soon as she started to walk off. She crashed into my chest, breathing hard.
“Yes?” She said timidly.
“I meant what I said tonight when I said you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen,” I said, studying her face.
She looked at the ground for an answer before bringing her eyes back up to mine. “I know,” she simply said, pushing herself closer to me.
Suddenly the room felt smaller, too intimate, too dark.
“I can’t believe you can kiss like that,” I murmured before I lost my nerve, remembering the passion we had in our first kiss earlier that afternoon.
She swallowed hard. “I can’t believe we kiss like that.”
“We are very good at it,” I whispered in her ear, bringing her cheek to mine.
“You’re beard is coming in,” she whispered back, making me smile.
“It is late. Sometimes that happens,” I chuckled.
She openly smelled my neck, making me laugh yet again.
“Are you smelling me, Harper Tate?”
She laughed. I dug my nose through her hair and inhaled.
“Are you smelling me, Callum Tate?”
“Yes I am, Mrs. Tate.”
She brought her face from mine and looked at me.
“Do you like that I’m Mrs. Tate?”
“I do,” I confessed but she moved further away, turning from me, confusing and wounding me.