Page 93 of Handle with Care
Now, I very much don’t want to be fired too. But if the exhibits stay missing, that will be my inevitable destiny.
At the very least, if the exhibits don’t turn up, it will guarantee that I don’t get to stay in London at the museum in a permanent job. Or stay together with Will to explore what’s between us. Neither one of us has dared breathe mention of the idea of a long-distance relationship. Any sort of relationship is new territory for me, never mind by phone and video calls. It’s a lot for me to wrap my mind around.
I’ve got to stay in London.
Because I can’t handle the idea of going home alone to Vancouver when home really is here with Will. Vancouver’s special for lots of reasons, like memories of my mom and good friends like Stephen. But right now, it feels like my future is here, between my work hopes and my new relationship with Will.
There’s a text from the museum to come in a few hours before the evening’s party to help set up, an all-hands-on-deck situation. Which is also my opportunity to do some more sleuthing when I get a chance. Gray said to look anywhere that a medium-sized box could fit, because the obvious places have turned up nothing.
I have a shower and get dressed before I go back in to wake Will.
Soon, I bring Will a cup of tea, which I set on the bedside table, and I sit on the edge of the bed. For a moment, I gaze at him, the way his skin looks luminous in the morning light, the glossy darkness of his hair, the curve of his bicep. I catch his fingers over the white duvet, interlacing our fingers. He stirs.
“Hi, sleepy. I’ve brought you tea.”
Will opens his eyes a crack. Then, a smile slowly spreads across his lips. I can’t help but smile back. “Morning,” he whispers, shifting in bed.
“Morning.”
Will sits up, delightfully tousled and bare-chested, all the better for me to openly admire him.
“Breakfast is served,” I tease him. “What a delightful snack.”
I’m rewarded with his rich laugh. Goose bumps appear on my arms.
“You letch,” he teases right back before taking the tea. “I could get used to this kind of treatment.” He sips. “It even tastes good. Who knew?”
I snort. “If it tastes bad, then it’s your fault. I’ve only done what you do when you make tea.”
“Good observational skills.”
“Usually.” Though if my observational skills were better, I would’ve found the missing Vivienne Westwood exhibits.
Will gazes at me, lifting his eyebrows as he takes stock of my clothes. “You look ready for the day. When I thought I could convince you to come back to bed.”
I grin, pleased at the idea. “If only. They’ve asked me to go in early to help for tonight’s private view.”
“Mm.” He acknowledges my comment with a bob of his head. Then he works on the tea, quiet.
“I’d rather stay with you.” It’s the truth.
“I understand, don’t worry.” Will nods.
“Would it be weird to have you as my date tonight?”
Will laughs, giving me a knowing look. “Dylan. They’ve fired me. I can’t turn up at their event.”
“Why not? You did nothing wrong. I’ll die on this hill.”
“Obviously, they disagree. Go. We’ll catch up tomorrow instead.”
“I’d still rather stay,” I say again. I lean over to kiss him, his mouth yielding to mine. Heaven. Kissing Will is way better than any daydream.
When I straighten with blood rushing in my ears and quite possibly somewhere lower, there’s amusement in his eyes, turned silvery in the morning light. He reaches up to tug my hair. “Noted.”
“Or you could come.” My lips twitch. It’s too much to resist. “I love it when you come.”
“Behave.” Will gives me a knowing look. But there’s amusement written across his face, which thrills me to no end. Like he’s still unfazed by the full Dylan experience, which would have scared off most men, I’m sure. “I don’t think the museum’s ready for that sort of display. Frankly, neither am I.”
