Page 13 of My Grumpy Sweetheart
I sighed. There was pressure forming behind my temples, a dull ache just waiting to turn into a full-on raging headache.
Gripping the reception desk, I felt the smooth wood beneath my fingers. Usually, I’d appreciate the craftsmanship that had obviously gone into making this masterpiece, but not today.
Today, I could only think about me gripping the wood hard enough to leave dents in it because my nightmare of a weekend just turned into hell on earth.
“That’s no problem,” Bailey said. He had the audacity to step up right next to me and put a hand on my forearm. “We’ll just ask for a room change.” Turning his head to the receptionist, he put on the widest, brightest smile I’d seen up until now. “We really appreciate the offer and kindness of your boss. However, we just met three hours ago, so we’d be more comfortable with a regular room with two beds.”
I had to give it to him, he could be charming. It wouldn’t work on me, but it definitely did on the receptionist. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears and started tapping away on the keyboard in front of her. After a while, the tapping sped up, sounding more and more desperate.
“I’m so sorry…” she started, but I didn’t need to let her finish to know what was coming next.
“No,” I said and just shook my head.
“What?” She blinked, looking at me like a deer in the headlights.
“You were going to tell us that there is no other room available. And I said no. That’s unacceptable.”
“Please, Mr.…”
“Nolan,” I supplied even though it didn’t fucking matter.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Nolan, but we’re booked…”
“No,” I repeated, shaking my head again for good measure. “Not acceptable. Try again.”
Her eyes got wider, and wider, the color draining from her face, lips pressing into a thin line. “If you’d listen, Mr. Nolan…”
“Oh, I am listening,” I told her, my voice sharper than intended. “And I know it’s not you who got the dumb idea to book two virtual strangers into a room with only one bed, really, I do hear that. But the fact remains that someone — your boss, apparently — had the dumb idea. And I’m telling you I’m not comfortable with that.”
I wouldn’t survive more than forty-eight hours with Bailey without a minute of reprieve. I’d probably claw his eyes out or kill him. He’d wanted a date with an axe murderer, right? Well, by the end of the weekend, I’d probably be one.
“I understand,” she said again, swallowing heavily. “But there’s a festival the next town over and that always draws a big crowd. I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Nolan. I can assure you my boss only had your best interest at heart when he booked the honeymoon suite… but there really isn’t any other room available until, well, Sunday. Which, I realize, is when you’re leaving.”
I was almost at the point of calling this entire thing quits and just cough up the money for the charity myself when I heard Bailey’s fucking bright voice again.
“It’s fine, Hailey,” he said in a soft, comforting tone. “I’ll just sleep on the couch, no harm done. We know it’s not your fault, which is why my date’s behavior is a lot less acceptable than the suite you’re so kindly accommodating us with.”
Yeah, I probably deserved that jab. He looked at me expectantly with raised brows, his signature smile almost — but still not completely — gone from his face. It was obvious what he wanted me to do. However, I wasn’t a little kid he could force to apologize. He cleared his throat, and…dammit.
“I apologize,” I told Hailey begrudgingly, because I hadn’t done anything wrong. “I still think booking a room with only one bed for a couple you know is on their first date is pretty presumptuous, but I could’ve been kinder about voicing my opinion.” I glared at Bailey. “Happy?”
He grinned, suppressing a giggle. “Ecstatic.”
God help me to survive this weekend without committing a felony.
CHAPTERFIVE
BAILEY
The room was beautiful. Truly stunning. When I’d heard apple orchard, I’d expected the décor to be a little grandmotherly. Warm pinks and reds, throw pillows, maybe even ruffles.
But this suite looked everything but grandmotherly. White walls, exposed wooden beams, dark hardwood floors. Taking the suite in, I whistled through my teeth. Color me impressed. Really impressed. Like… I’d take the whole interior home and redecorate my apartment impressed.
“Could you actually head inside and get your monstrosities out of the way?”
Rolling my eyes, I suppressed a snort and followed Dakota’s… request. Well, it’d sounded like a demand, but I chose to think of it as a request.
He roughly shoved his way into our suite, took a second to orientate himself, then confidently walked over to the left where the bedroom was separated from our living room by an archway. Not a door.
