Page 43 of Make Me Yours

Sully glances over her shoulder. “Do we need to get the bags?” she asks in a soft voice. “Or give them a room number once we have one or something?”

“No, they know where to take the bags. I checked in online this afternoon. The key to our room is already on my phone.”

Her eyes widen. “Wow. I love an old-fashioned key, but that’s swanky.”

“And convenient.” I tip my head to the uniformed men at the top of the steps, who leap to open the copper and glass doors as we approach. “It will give us time to do a little shopping before dinner.”

Her brows lift. “Shopping for what?”

“Jewelry,” I say. “You could use some.”

Her nose wrinkles. “I know. But I didn’t have anything that looked good with a dress like this, and Elaina’s earrings are all enormous. I’m not a big earring girl.”

“Absolutely not,” I agree. She’s far more understated than that, elegant though I know she doesn’t think of herself that way. But she is, a fact proven when she selects a stunning, butdiscreet pair of diamond-and-pearl drop earrings from the gift shop beneath the grand staircase leading to the second floor.

“I can pay for them,” she whispers, as I tell the clerk we’ll take them and reach for my wallet.

“No, it’s my treat, consider it an early birthday present.”

“All right. Well, thank you.” She smiles, but her grin vanishes when the clerk gives me the total before taking my extended card.

“Five thousand dollars?” she mouths when the clerk dips her head, her eyes wide and scandalized.

“It’s fine,” I mouth back. “You deserve it.”

Her lips press into a thin line, but she leaves the earrings in her ears as I finish paying and takes my arm again as we leave the store. It isn’t until we’re halfway up the staircase that she says, “I had no idea they were real. I thought they were costume jewelry. We can take them back before we leave.”

“We’re not taking them back.”

She scoffs. “You don’t buy a five-thousand-dollar present for a friend.”

“I buy whatever I want, whenever I want,” I say, smiling down at her as we reach the top of the stairs. “It’s one of the benefits of being a heartless finance guy who invested wisely in his twenties.”

She makes a considering sound beneath her breath. “The only thing I’ve invested in in my twenties is new traps when someone stole some of our old ones last season.”

“We’ll have to change that,” I say, leading her toward the entrance to the ballroom on the far side of the impressive lobby. Soaring ceilings, two-story windows, and bronze Art Deco accents give the space an old-world feel. They also give me hope this party won’t be the usual cheesy, skeletons-and-fake-spider-webs Halloween affair. “We’ll get you set up with a retirement account that reflects your risk tolerance before I leave. Even asmall monthly investment will grow with compound interest. It’s not too late to make sure you’re taken care of when you’re older.”

“Okay, that sounds smart,” she says. “I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”

The reminder that our time together is flying by dampens the mood for a moment, but by the time we reach the small line forming in front of a woman dressed in a gold ball gown, we’re both smiling again.

“What is this?” Sully asks, her eyes shining as she reads the velvet banner draped across the top of the ballroom door. “Harvest of the Mystic Moon?”

“A Halloween party,” I say, “but no costumes, thank God.”

She snorts. “I can’t imagine you in a costume, Mr. Fancy. Far too undignified for the likes of you.”

“Damn straight,” I agree, pulling my cell from my pocket and scrolling to the event app for our tickets.

She laughs and squeezes my arm. “But you’d make a great brooding Mr. Darcy. At least the Weaver I see around town would.”

My brows draw together. “Yeah?”

She nods, glancing forward as the line starts to move. “Yeah. That Weaver never smiles. Which is a shame.” She shifts her gaze back to mine. “Your smile is pretty special.”

I want to tell her thatshe’sspecial, that I wish I never had to be the Weaver I am in town, the one who has to walk around the world without her in his impenetrable shell. The realization hits hard, making my stomach tighten as we amble the final few feet to the check-in desk, and confirming the fear that’s been sneaking up on me with every amazing night I’ve spent with Sully this past week.

I’m falling in love with this woman.

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