Page 23 of Hidden Hearts

Dominic's arm is wrapped around my waist, spooning me from behind. How in the world we ended up in this position, I have no idea. But somehow it resulted in him invading my dreams.

"You okay?" he sleepily asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? You jolted out of sleep like you were having a nightmare or something."

Or something.

Like a mind-blowing orgasm from your piratical counterpart.

But no way in hell am I ever telling him that. Because he doesn’t belong in my dreams or my bed.

"I'm good," I insist. "But you should go. It's getting late, and Elsie's probably uncomfortable being confined to the living room." Our bedroom is the only way to the bathroom, and while I know she’ll walk through if she needs to, I’m not above using her as an excuse to kick Dominic out.

"You're right. I didn't expect to stay this long, anyway. I have some other work to do at home." He removes his arm from my waist and sits up. "I'll check with you tomorrow about possibly going over some more of the office details. See if you're feeling any better."

I nod and scramble out of bed to escort him to the front door. After saying goodbye, I shut it with relief.

"That was interesting," Elsie drawls from her place on the couch. I'm guessing she watched movies all day while I was with Dominic.

"Yeah, sorry about that. We fell asleep."

"Strange… Since you're supposed to hate him."

"I wouldn't say I hate him, but we're not friends. He bothers me too much," I state firmly, unwilling to admit to any other feelings.

"Well, he may have gotten under your skin, but I think you want under him." Her eyebrows twitch suggestively.

There's no way Elsie could know about my dream, but that doesn’t stop a hot flush from rising at how close she is to the truth. Hurrying back to the safety of my bed, I yelled at her to shut up.

Elsie just laughs—knowing she hit the nail on the head.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

AVERY

A few weeks ago, I met up with Louise at Daffodil’s, and she asked me to help her set up for a Young Professionals event at the Hearthstone Lodge, a popular mountain resort located just outside of Suitor’s Crossing. Louise used to work at Design Time but quit after one too many arguments with Mike, so now, she putters around town pitching in where she can. Like volunteering with the YP group as a mentor and offering to organize their Summer Soiree.

Completing the final centerpiece, I stepped back to take stock of the room. The walls are lined with giant balloon installations while leafy branches covered in string lights decorate the dozens of tables circling the dance floor. The gorgeous backdrop of mountain peaks adds to the atmospheric glow of LED candles.

The Hearthstone Lodge earns its reputation as a classy venue for weddings, vacations, and business retreats every day of the year—summer or winter—and though I’m partial to its late fall/early winter charm, the current July view isn’t too shabby.

"I think we're ready to open the doors. You did a great job!" Louise says before hugging me.

I thank her for the compliment, but she’s the one who organized everything. I was just along for the ride.

“If everything’s good to go, I’m going to change. See you soon.” Exiting the ballroom, I find the elevators and head up to the room I booked for tonight, choosing to treat myself with a mini staycation this weekend rather than driving home when the evening ends.

Elsie is already waiting in the room since I let her in earlier. “Are you ready for this?” She wields a mascara wand like she's my fairy godmother and pats the chair in front of her.

“For the one time I get to dress this fancy? You know it!” My normal routine is pretty basic, and most days I don't even bother with makeup since I'm mostly in the back of Design Time hidden by an embroidery machine.

But tonight is different.

Sitting down in front of the mirror Elsie brought, I let her work her magic. She’s talented at hair and make-up, spending a lot of time watching YouTube tutorials. I’ve told her she should look into switching to cosmetology rather than sticking it out at the elementary school, but she keeps saying it’s just a hobby.

While Elsie primps and curls, my gaze wanders to the dress hanging on the back of the wardrobe. It's a deep blush with a pretty lace overlay. The hem falls a few inches above my knees, but the neckline is modest enough for a professional event. An empire waist draws attention up to my breasts without being sleazy, and the skirt skims over my round belly. When I first tried it on, I felt like a delicate princess in it, which is saying a lot because I’ve never used the word 'delicate' to describe myself. Neither has anyone else.

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