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Always You: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection Books 5-8)

Page 46

by Brenna Jacobs


  He stayed quiet until they were both seated in his car, then he turned toward her without starting the engine. “Would you mind very much if we postponed seeing Taming of the Shrew?”

  Alice’s mouth fell slightly open, and she ran her fingers under the collar of her blouse before stuttering, “Of course not. It’s been a long day, and I still have to pack, so that’s probably best for both of us.”

  He saw the hurt in her eyes and took her hand in both of his. It looked so tiny cupped in his hands, and he rubbed his thumb over her slender fingers. “I don’t want you to think that kiss meant nothing to me, or that I wouldn’t like to do it again, but—”

  “You’re worried about how it looks.”

  Geoffrey raised his gaze from her hand to her eyes and was grateful for the understanding he saw there. “I don’t want anyone to think you didn’t earn your job for any other reason than that you are the best candidate for the job.”

  “I don’t either.” With her other hand, she smoothed his hair away from his forehead, sending an electric charge that started at his scalp and ended somewhere near his toes.

  “You have to know that I’m in real danger of falling for you.” He kissed her hand, because if he didn’t, he would kiss her lips again, and that would make it impossible to say what he had to say. “Which is why we can’t let this go any further. At least not until you’ve established yourself here as the expert that you are. As much as I want to explore where this may lead right now, I don’t want to get in the way of your career.”

  Alice moved her hand from his hair to his cheek, leaving it there until his gaze met hers. “You are the real deal, Lord Geoffrey. An authentic masterpiece.”

  His heart thumped, both soaring and breaking at the same time.

  “Now kiss me one more time, so we have something to remember until the next time. Because there will be a next time.” She took her hand out of his and put it on his other cheek, then leaned toward him until their lips met for the second time that day.

  Geoffrey pulled her closer, leaving as little space between them as he possibly could. Within twenty-four hours there would be an ocean between them, and a gulf even wider that would be harder to cross. He made the kiss one she wouldn’t forget, and she did the same for him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Geoffrey dropped Alice at her hotel an hour later. What had started as one kiss goodbye had turned into a full-blown make-out session that had Alice doubting everything she’d ever heard about British men being subdued and slightly repressed. Alice hoped Geoffrey had meant what he’d said about “being in danger of falling for her,” because she felt the same. And she didn’t know how long his kisses would tide her over.

  Alice stepped into the hotel elevator, still thinking of Geoffrey, and leaned against the wall as soon as the doors closed. If he hadn’t been feeding her another one of his lines—and she didn’t think he was—how long would she have to wait before they could kiss again? Or hold hands? Or even have dinner together, talking nonstop over their food? Would there ever be a point, as long as she was working for him, when they would be able to date?

  The elevator dinged at the third floor, but Alice was so busy calculating how long it would take to curate the exhibit that she wouldn’t have gotten off if someone hadn’t stopped the doors from shutting so he could get in. As the man stepped in, she stepped out into the hallway. The carpets and wallpaper with their contrasting patterns of greens and blues made her feel almost as dizzy as Geoffrey’s kisses had.

  By the time she got to her room at the end of the hallway, Alice had determined that if she worked her tail off, she could have the museum ready to open in six months. Maybe. If Geoffrey would admit to being G and allow her to use his pieces, especially Re-Collecting, she’d be more likely to meet her self-imposed deadline. She wondered if she were staying a few more days whether he would have fessed up to his secret identity. If they’d had more “kissing” time, maybe she would have been able to convince him to not only come clean but also agree she was right.

  And then she got distracted thinking about kissing Geoffrey. And not kissing Geoffrey. Which forced her to order room service, including a hot fudge sundae to cheer her up. But before the food came, she got a text from Geoffrey.

  I changed my mind. We should definitely spend tonight together.

  Alice stared at the text, without a doubt tempted by his offer, but also disappointed by it. Was that all Geoffrey wanted? There was no way she was opening the can of trouble that would cause. But she felt a little sick at the thought that what they had was only a physical attraction for him. Before she could think of how to respond, another message appeared.

  THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!!

  Alice let out a relieved laugh as dots appeared on the screen. She stared at her screen and waited for words to appear.

  I want to have dinner with you. Nothing else. Just time with you.

  She smiled and was about to answer when another message from him appeared.

  And, perhaps, another kiss. If you’re very good.

  She wanted the same thing, and almost told him so, but then erased the message. Telling him goodbye again would be too hard. Even though she’d be back in a little over two weeks, their relationship wouldn’t be the same. It would have to be strictly platonic. Nothing else. And if she couldn’t even go a few hours before giving in to his pleas to see her again, how would they ever spend the next six months or longer working together without getting involved?

  I’ve ordered room service. I’d invite you up, but after your first text, I’m afraid I might give you the wrong idea. :)

  She pressed send, then decided to add more.

  And I will want to kiss you again, so inviting you to my room might be very, very dangerous. But if you order your own dinner, and we both watch the same terrible TV show at the same time, it will almost be like we’re together.

  Geoffrey took a very long time to answer, but she finally got a response just as her food arrived. She read the text while the bellhop brought in her food.

  Or you could forget your room service, and we could have fish and chips in Piccadilly. Or bangers and mash in a pub somewhere. Experience some real British food.

  She smiled, then realized the gray-haired bellhop was waiting for her with the bill. “The flowers are from a gentleman who stopped me on the way up.” He wagged his head in the direction of the coffee table where he’d set up the food and a bouquet of roses and lilies. “He asked if this was your food. He looked familiar—one of those bluebloods that’s in the papers. I didn’t tell him it was your food, but he gave me the flowers anyway. ‘Just in case’ he said. Also paid your bill and my tip.”

  Alice looked at the bill he’d handed her and saw it was a receipt with a note on it.

  In the lounge in case you change your mind. Will be watching Carjackers until then. Currently the worst show on the telly. Channel 4.

  “Thank you,” she said to the bellhop after she’d read the note.

  “Thank you, ma’am. And the gentleman. He gave me a very generous tip. Best not let that one get away.” He smiled in a grandfatherly way and tipped his hat to her.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She waited for him to take a few steps down the hall before she closed the door. Once she was alone again, Alice grinned and leaned against the door, looking across the room at the flowers.

  Geoffrey knew how to charm a girl, that was for sure. Alice crossed the room, debating whether to change into something nicer than the jeans and sweatshirt she’d put on and go downstairs. Every part of her wanted to do just that. How could she sit and eat dinner by herself, like she did most nights, when a guy she could legitimately fall hard for was right downstairs willing to buy her dinner? A second dinner, actually. She’d be crazy not to take him up on his offer.

  Or she might be crazy to take him up on it. Seeing him again would put her right in the spot she had just convinced herself she didn’t want to be in—making their goodbye even harder. Whi
ch, in turn, would make working together more difficult.

  Alice put her nose to the flowers and smelled them. The roses actually had a scent. Alice wondered where Geoffrey had found them in the last hour or so since they’d said their goodbyes, and what he’d paid for them. A rose that hadn’t had its scent bred out of it was difficult to find, and not cheap. These weren’t flowers he’d bought from a vendor on the street.

  If she had an ounce less self-control, she would have run—not walked—to the lounge. But she hadn’t gritted her way through college and the LA art scene without a healthy amount of willpower.

  So, as hard as it was, she sat down on the sofa and turned on the television to channel four, then texted Geoffrey.

  Thank you for the flowers. They smell heavenly. She had no idea how she’d get them home, but she’d figure out a way, even if she had to hold them in her lap for the entire nine-hour flight. I’ve turned on Carjackers. What are you eating for dinner?

  FaceTiming would have been easier on her fingers, but harder on her resolve. It was taking every ounce of self-control she had not to go downstairs or invite him up. Seeing his blue eyes and the cleft in his chin on her phone screen, knowing how easily she could see them—him—in person would turn her willpower into a puddle of mush.

  Hamburger and fries. They cater to Americans here.

  I ordered the same. Plus, a hot fudge sundae.

  Ketchup and mustard?

  Ketchup and mayo. And extra pickles.

  Sounds horrible. Trying it now.

  Seconds later she got a picture of Geoffrey’s hamburger, the top bun off and Geoffrey’s hand piling pickles onto the mayonnaise covered meat patty.

  It’s the way hamburgers were meant to be eaten, she wrote back.

  Hamburgers are meant to be eaten at Shake Shack.

  If she hadn’t already been convinced they were a good match, those words would have done the trick. With bacon and cheese. Cheese fries on the side.

  You’ve just talked me into going back to LA with you.

  Alice laughed, then wondered if he was being serious. After all, he’d shown up at her hotel and was currently eating in the lounge. Would he go back to LA with her? Did she want him to?

  She didn’t have to think twice about that answer. Obviously yes. No one knew him in LA. No one would care if they were together. He could work on his art, and she could . . . do something. In two weeks, she wouldn’t have a job in LA anymore, since she’d given her notice as soon as Geoffrey had hired her. And Geoffrey hadn’t actually told her he was an artist. That would have to come first before she started making any more plans about their life together in LA.

  Really? She texted back and held her breath. She honestly didn’t know how she wanted him to answer.

  As much as the idea appealed to her, he couldn’t walk away from his obligations in England, and she wasn’t ready for him to meet her “obligations” in America. As much as she loved her mom and brother, Alice couldn’t stand the thought of Geoffrey judging them on their appearance rather than loving them as much as she did. They were very different people from his own family, so the risk he would see them as less than what they were was very real.

  There are actually quite a few Shake Shacks in London. When you come back, we’ll go, he texted back.

  Relief and disappointment sometimes work hand in hand, and Alice felt them both simultaneously. Her mind drifted back to wondering what their relationship—if it could even be called that—would look like in LA, away from photographers and his family but closer to hers.

  Before she got too far down that path, she shook her head and turned back to reality, quickly answering his text with a short reply. Can’t wait.

  Picking up a couple of fries, she dipped them in ketchup and stared at the TV, very much aware of how close Geoffrey was. Even though she was forcing herself not to go to the lounge, she wasn’t ready to tell him goodbye and checked her phone every other second for the telltale dots that would notify her he was replying. She hadn’t really been paying attention to what the TV show was about, but suddenly a man was freaking out about his car being stolen, and she had something she could say to Geoffrey.

  This show is actually about cars getting stolen? she texted then pushed send.

  Only somewhat. Just wait.

  A few minutes later the man discovered his car had been stolen by his fiancée who was having it made into a giant chicken nugget for him. Because he loved chicken nuggets.

  This can’t possibly be real.

  You said you wanted terrible television.

  Touché. I didn’t realize just how bad it would be.

  British TV is either very, very good, or very, very bad.

  They spent the next few hours going back and forth about the terrible life choices people were willing to make in order to be on TV, ideas about the Grey museum, dreams, favorite books and movies, good TV, and so on. Alice packed while they texted, never forgetting that tomorrow Geoffrey would be much further away than a minute-by-elevator.

  When the urge to go to him got too strong, she kicked off her jeans and changed into her night shirt before climbing into the king-sized bed that was the size of a small island compared to the futon she slept on in her LA studio apartment. Flat prices in London would be even higher than LA rent, and she’d have to find something even smaller than her apartment if she were still going to send money to her mom. And there wasn’t really a way not to do that.

  Alice checked the clock on the bedside table and was surprised to see it was after midnight. The lounge would be closed, and Geoffrey had probably gone home. As much as she hated to, she switched off her light and reluctantly texted Geoffrey goodnight. Long flight tomorrow.

  I guess I’ll go back to my flat then. I’m counting the days until I see you again. Good night.

  Alice popped up. Wait? You’re still downstairs?

  Of course I am. Just me and the barkeep. Do you think he likes the way the chairs look on top of the tables, or is he closing up?

  Alice stared at her phone. Geoffrey had stayed for hours just hoping to see her one last time? She dropped her phone on the bedside table and flung back the covers she’d burrowed under. Jumping out of bed, she threw on a pair of pajama pants and grabbed a hoodie to pull on over her t-shirt. There was no time to put on a bra. She bolted toward the door, stopping only long enough for a quick application of lip balm and a glance in the mirror. She didn’t look great, but she did look presentable.

  Her door slammed shut behind her as she ran into the hall, its echo following her to the elevator. She spent ten unsuccessful seconds pushing the call button before heading for the doorway to the stairs.

  Even though she only had two flights to go down, Alice was out of breath by the time she made it to the bottom. Her heart had been racing since the moment she’d made the decision to do what she was about to do.

  She flung open the door and ran to the lounge. The barkeeper was locking the door when she got there, and she stopped only long enough to look through the glass windows and confirm Geoffrey wasn’t in there. Then she ran for the lobby.

  Geoffrey was walking into the revolving door when she got there. She skidded to a stop and called, “Geoffrey!”

  He glanced over his shoulder but couldn’t stop the momentum of the door pushing him through, but he followed it around until he was back inside again.

  “Alice?” A tentative smile made its way across his face to become a full-grown grin when his eyes drifted to her Minnie Mouse pjs.

  She followed his gaze, and for a split second questioned her sanity. But she’d come this far for what she wanted, and she wasn’t going back to her room without it. Alice looked straight into Geoffrey’s face and walked toward him. When they were within a few feet of each other she said, “I’ve been very good.”

  Then they were inches apart, and she tilted her head to him. “Can I have that kiss now?”

  Geoffrey didn’t hesitate to comply, placing one hand on her cheek and the oth
er on the small of her back in order to pull her toward him and close the distance between them. He kissed her tenderly, without any of the hunger Alice had felt in him earlier. This kiss felt more authentic, like real champagne. It held a promise that his others hadn’t.

  This kiss promised he could wait for her.

  For them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Geoffrey had just woken the following morning when Ardis came into his bedroom.

  “Clarissa is on the phone,” she said, handing him the house telephone. For Clarissa to call on the landline meant she’d been trying to reach his cellphone and hadn’t gotten through as quickly as she’d wanted. Whatever she might be, Clarissa wasn’t an impatient woman. Usually she would leave a message and wait for him to call her back. What was so urgent today that she couldn’t wait for his return call?

  “Did you tell her I was asleep?”

  Ardis answered by lifting her eyebrows in a way that made it abundantly clear she had, obviously. “She insisted I wake you.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  He’d meant to go see Clarissa the night before. Had every intention to break things off with her. But as he was driving to her place, he’d passed the flower shop he knew carried the best roses in the UK. The kind specially delivered from a breeder in France who had figured out how to keep them disease-resistant without compromising the scent.

  And they seemed like the kind of thing Alice would like, so he stopped to order a dozen to be delivered. But then he thought about it being her last night in London for a few weeks and that when she returned, he wouldn’t be able to kiss her. And once he was officially her boss, he’d have to limit the amount of time he spent with her in order to avoid the temptation he was sure he’d give in to.

  He had to see her one more time before that happened.

  So he’d delivered the flowers himself. Or, rather, had the bellman do it when Alice had, justifiably, refused to see him.

 

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