Page 47 of Howl You Doin?
Stepping outside, I tiptoe across the wood floors until I reach a set of stairs I found yesterday that lead down to the kitchen—well, the sliding fireplace door, but close enough. It’s perfect because now I don’t have to walk all over the castle to get to work anymore. I just wish Connor would have told me about it sooner, but I guess if I were a castle owner with a bunch of hidden passages, I wouldn’t tell anyone either.
The black soles of my shoes touch the stone steps as I hold the railing that swirls along the wall, thankfully because going up and down this place makes me dizzy.
I pull at the lever on the stone wall and wait for it to retract, and the fireplace swivels with just enough space for a person to stand, allowing me into the kitchen easily. I only plan to whip myself up something quick since it’s late. Maybe some tea will settle my nerves.
Grabbing some bread from the nearby bread box, I set about making a sandwich while waiting for the kettle to boil. As I’m eating my turkey bacon sandwich and drinking my Earl Grey tea, I realize it’s nice to be in my clean kitchen with no one around. Sometimes the castle at night gives me the creeps, and it can be a little cold, but I’ve come to adore the work here—except for Connor when he’s being a dick. The guests are mostly lovely, the place is beautiful, and it’s nice to get away from the bustle of America.
I also really like being alone, and I soak in the silence with a small smile.
After enjoying my snack, I flick the lights off and make my way back to my room. I head through the fireplace entrance and up the stairs to the north wing.
My thoughts stop on Connor again, and I snort. He hasn’t come to find me since yesterday, so it looks like he’s been avoiding me too. So stupid. The idea that he regrets it eats at me, leaving my food to feel like lead in my gut, but I try to ignore it.
I reach the top of the stairs and collide with a hard male chest.
“Whoa there.”
“Crap.” I wince when my forehead knocks with something hard, and I realize it’s an elbow when he turns to me.
“Whitley, my love,” Connor slurs, staggering about in the hallway with a loud hiccup. “I would bury my dick so far inside your arse whoever could pull it out would be crowned king of all England.”
I rear from what just came from his mouth and a face, pink and almost delirious, grins at me like the sun shines out of my ass.
“You’re just so beautiful,” he shouts.
My jaw drops. “Shhh.” I shove a finger over my lips, and glance up and down the hallway, forgetting in the moment that we are the only people on this floor. So much for avoiding him now.
He clears his throat and waves a hand like he’s holding a freaking weapon. “Whoever doth pull out this sword.”
I cackle, my hand flying to cover my mouth. “Are you drunk?”
The alcohol on his breath smells sweet and minty, making me crinkle my nose and wonder what he’s been drinking. It’s nothing like anything I’ve drunk before, and I can handle some hard liquor.
Connor doesn’t answer me, but his right knee bends like he’s about to collapse before he steadies himself. He staggers to the side where the door to my suite is, leans against the wall for support, and starts patting at his body. His suit is in complete disarray, the front of his jacket open while his white dress shirt is half tucked in. Even his navy tie is loose and skewed around his neck, as if he pulled on it in frustration.
“Shit. I can’t find your keys,” he says when his search comes up empty.
I try not to laugh at that.
“I think you should go to bed,” I tell him, as I grab my keys from my pocket and move toward my door. He’s obviously drunk as a skunk, and as funny as it is, I don’t think he’d be pleased with me if something embarrassing comes out of his mouth.
“Milady.” He smiles like he didn’t hear me telling him to go to bed. “May I come in?”
I take a look at him and decide he looks harmless enough, his cheeks a rosy color and his eyes bloodshot but happy. Hopefully if he does say something stupid, he’s too drunk to remember it.
“Come in, but only for a minute.” I tilt my head toward my room, gesturing for him to follow as I step inside, dropping my keys onto the wooden dresser with a clatter.
He manages to make it into the room on his own, stumbling a bit as he weaves his way over to the bed.
“What have you been doing with yourself?” he asks, and embarrassment stops me from telling him that I’ve spent all my time going above and beyond to avoid him.
I turn to face him after locking the door, unable to stop my lips from curling at the sight of him struggling with his gray jacket. He looks sort of cute the way he’s floundering to get his clothes off, a boyish expression on his face.
“Umm, reading mostly,” I say honestly. “At least trying to. You’ve apparently ruined that for me as well.”
He brings a hand to his heart as soon as he gets free of his suit jacket, tossing it to the bedroom floor.
“Ahh, the woman offers me thorns.” Then he glares and wags a finger at me. “I have had fuck all to do with any book reading, madam. I haven’t even begun to educate you yet.”
