Page 17 of My Surprising Valentine

I was so screwed—and not in the naked, sweaty, fun way.

I splashed some cold water on my face and touched up my makeup, taking far longer than necessary in an attempt to compose myself. I couldn't hide in here forever, though.

When I finally emerged from the bathroom, Max was standing at the windows, his suit jacket draped over one of the mahogany chairs, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, as he talked on his phone.

“Yeah, we just got here,” he was saying. “No, everything’s fine. The room situation got a little complicated, but we worked it out.” His eyes met mine in the reflection of the window, and something in his expression made my breath catch. “Listen, I should go. Hannah’s got the rehearsal in—” he checked his watch “—shit, thirty minutes. Yeah, I’ll tell her. See you tomorrow.”

He ended the call and turned to face me. “David says hi. He can’t make it to the rehearsal dinner, but he’ll try to be here first thing in the morning. He said Melody was surprisingly understanding about it.”

I nodded, trying not to focus on how good Max looked with his tie loosened and his collar unbuttoned. “How’s he doing?”

“Tired. But he sounded okay.” Max's expression softened with concern—the same look he always got lately when discussing my brother. “Said the new medication seems to be helping.”

“Good.” I moved to my suitcase, partly to get my dress for the rehearsal but mostly to put some distance between us. “Did you get the sofa sorted?”

“Yeah, it’s …” He cleared his throat. “It’ll work fine.”

I glanced up at him. “Are you lying to me?”

His lips quirked to the side in a small, wry grin that I loved. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

An awkward silence fell between us then, heavy with all the things we weren’t saying to one another. Through the window, the sun was sinking lower, painting the sky in shades of purple and pink that seemed to amplify the romantic setting we found ourselves in.

“I should change,” I said finally, grabbing my garment bag. “Aunt Marie will never let me hear the end of it if I’m late to the rehearsal.”

Max nodded, already reaching for his jacket. “I’ll head down and give you some privacy. Meet you in the lobby?”

“Yeah, perfect.”

He paused at the door, his hand on the handle, looking like he wanted to say something else. But then he just gave me a small smile and slipped out, leaving me alone in our ridiculously romantic suite.

I unzipped my bag with shaking fingers, pulling out the burgundy dress I’d ordered from Amazon only a few days ago. When Percy had taken me dress shopping in Boston, I’d forgotten all about needing a separate outfit for the rehearsal dinner. When Melody had sent a reminder about the dress code, I panicked. Thank god for women whose reviews included photos and cited their height, weight, and measurements; otherwise, I don’t know what I would have done.

Now, as I changed into the wrap dress with a low, plunging neckline, I couldn't help but wonder if Max would like it—if he’dlook at me the way he had that day on my couch—like I was something he desperately wanted to taste.

Stop it, I ordered myself. This weekend was going to be hard enough without letting my imagination run wild.

Chapter Eight

I smootheddown my dress for the hundredth time as I stepped off the elevator into the hotel lobby, my heart doing a little flip when I spotted Max waiting. He was engrossed in checking something on his phone, giving me a moment to appreciate how the cut of his jacket emphasized his broad shoulders.

Eventually, he looked up, and for a split second, his expression slipped. His eyes traveled down my body, lingering on the way my dress hugged my curves before snapping back up to my face. I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice a deep rumble, when I finally reached him.

Before I could return the compliment, a familiar screech pierced the air. “Hannah Elizabeth Carlisle!”

I froze, my eyes going wide as I turned to see my mother practically running—a feat given she claimed she could barely walk on a good day—layers upon layers of Pepto Bismol chiffon floating behind her like wings.

“Mom—” I started, but she was already wrapping me up in a surprisingly strong hug.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, pulling back to hold me at arm’s length, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “All this time! I justknewthere had to be a reason neither of you had settled down yet.”

Oh god.

What have I gotten myself into? What have I gotten Max into? Wait—this was his idea! What has he gotten me into?

“Mrs. Carlisle,” Max started to speak, but my mother rounded on him, jabbing a perfectly manicured talon into his chest.

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