Page 38 of The P Arrangement

“Found it. First name Delaney in a nonsmoking king. Does that sound right?”

“Uh…”

“Yes,” I answered for her.

“And will you also be staying with Ms. St. James?” he asked me with a smile. “Can I get your name?” He moved on to the second question without waiting for an answer to the first.

“Preston St. James.” I never bothered withthe thirdpart unless I had to. It was a pain in the ass sometimes not to have my own name.

There were a few more clicks on the computer.

“I’ll have your key cards ready in a moment,” the clerk said and stepped away.

I slid closer to Delaney. “Why do you look so confused?”

She shrugged. “I guess, in my head, I thought I was staying with you inyourroom. When you showed up today, I realized I’d forgotten to cancel mine. It’s a good thing I didn’t, or we wouldn’t have a place to stay.”

“Did you really forget, or were you keeping it so you could get away from me?”

“I really did forget.” She eyed me up and down. “But it did occur to me that I might want to escape you for a while,” she joked.

Placing my hand on her hip, I squeezed. “Oh, no, there’s no way you’re getting away from me. You’re mine for the weekend.”

Her eyes heated, and I thought about all the things I wanted to do to her. I was about to suggest we say screw the meet and greet.

She turned my way. “But what if you get sick of me?”

She was still trying to be playful, but I could see the seriousness in her eyes.

Squeezing her side again, I said, “Never.”

If only she knew how much I’d missed her every day since she’d left, she wouldn’t even suggest that. I wasn’t going to waste any time this weekend being apart any more than we had to.

The clerk came back and slid two cards in envelopes to us. “Here you go. You are all checked in, Mr. and Mrs. St James. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

We grabbed our stuff to head to the elevator.

“I suppose that’s going to keep happening, isn’t it?” Delaney asked.

I didn’t tell her I kind of liked it. “Yeah. It happens when we have the same last name.”

“I could be your sister,” she pointed out.

We reached the elevator, and I pushed the button to our floor. “I don’t think so.”

“Just because we don’t look alike doesn’t mean we’re not siblings.”

I chuckled. “I think it has less to do with how we look and more to do with the looks on our faces.”

She wrinkled her nose. “And what look is that?”

“The one where we want to fuck each other.”

When the elevator doors opened, a family of four stepped out, and we got on.

“Two seconds earlier, and those parents would have had to do some explaining to their kids about the new word they’d just learned.”

I laughed. “I’m sure they’ve heard it before.”

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