Page 50 of Black Ties and White Lies

She turns around, taking a set of keys off a nail behind her. “We have our honeymoon suite left. The people who’d reserved it for their honeymoon’s flight got canceled.” She jingles the keys in front of her. “Lucky for you,” she adds, her tone chipper once again.

Dread settles in my stomach. Beck must be coming to the same realization as me. The honeymoon suite doesn’t strike me as a room that has two beds.

He clears his throat, taking the keys from her hand. “The honeymoon suite has two beds?”

She shakes her head. “No, dear, only one. It’s rather large though if you’re waiting for marriage or you know”—she looks between us awkwardly—“need some space between you and your girlfriend.”

I cough, choking on my spit in embarrassment. It might be a slight tinge of amusement too becauseoh my godis Beckham Sinclair blushing?

“Are there any other inns or hotels around that would possibly have something with two rooms? Nothing against this place, but myassistanthere and I need two beds.”

“I’m afraid not. There’s a few in the heart of Sutten, but I don’t think there’s any transportation that could get you there.”

I lay my hand on his bicep, taking in the frigid fabric of his button up. The starched, freezing cold fabric seems almost frozen to his body. “It’s fine.” I try to keep my voice calm. “We’ll figure it out.”

His nostrils flare as he stares me down. I’d give anything to know what’s going on in his head. He’d been so angry with me earlier, the two of us bickering more than an old married couple. Now he doesn’t look as angry, but there’s another emotion I just can’t get a read on. He shoves the keys into his pocket and then pulls out his wallet. He lets out a resigned sigh. “We’ll take it.”

I bite back the urge to tell him he shouldn’t sound so put out with the thought of sharing a bed with me. He’s told me various times all the ways he wants to fuck me, so clearly he doesn’t find me disgusting. I’d gladly share a bed with him if it meant my toes would thaw and I could get out of these freezing clothes.

Speaking of, I lean over the counter and smile softly at her. “Is there any chance you have a gift shop here or anything where we can buy new clothes? I’m desperate for something warm and not completely saturated in freezing cold water.”

She finishes writing something in a small little journal of hers, running Beck’s credit card and handing it back to him. “We sure do, hon. Let me take you to it. This inn is run by my husband and I. He’s out making sure the snow doesn’t make us lose any power so I can get you taken care of in the shop as well.”

The woman slowly walks toward a small opening with a wood sign above it identifying it as their gift stop. As soon as we step in, there’s various animals carved out of wood covering an entire shelf. She catches me looking at them. “My husband carves those,” she says proudly, picking up a carved moose the size of my finger and turning it in her hand.

“They’re stunning,” I tell her. I can’t imagine the steadiness it takes in a hand to get the details so perfect using a knife. I’m more than impressed by the craftsmanship.

She hums a response, ushering us deeper into the store that’s no bigger than my own room at Beck’s place. Her hand reaches out to point to two racks of clothes. “I’m afraid these are the only options we have.” She looks at Beck, starting at his head and looking all the way down to his feet. “Although I’m unsure if these will quite fit you,” she says apologetically.

He takes a step forward, beginning to rifle through the rack. “I’m sure I can find something.” He pulls a hoodie off the rack, looking inside at the tag. Apparently meeting his standards, he hands it over to me. “Take this.”

“I’ll leave you two to look. Come to the counter at the front when you’re done and I’ll get you all rung up.”

I politely smile as she turns around. “Thank you.”

Beck shakes the hoodie, gesturing for me to take it.

“Beck, this thing is like three sizes too big for me.”

He continues to look through the clothing, not bothering to look at me. “It’s the warmest fabric they have. Your lips are blue from being so cold, so forgive me if I don’t give a flying fuck how big it is on you as long as it keeps you warm.”

My mouth snaps shut as his response takes me off guard. His words alone send warmth down my body. My silence has him looking over his shoulder for a brief moment. “No arguments from you? I’m shocked. It’s seemed to be your mission to argue overevery damn thingtoday.”

I scoff, hugging the sweatshirt to my chest. I stick my hands inside the fabric, loving how soft and warm the fleece inside feels against my cold hands. “I wouldn’t call it arguing if I was pointing out the fact that we shouldn’t have been out on the roads with an impending snow storm and all.”

He pulls a set of plaid pajamas from the rack, checking the tag for the size. A grunt leaves his chest. I fight the grin that wants to make an appearance at fancy Beck dawning a pair of red and black plaid pajamas, a giant bear on a pocket on the chest that readsI’m beary tired. It’s something that belongs on a child’s pajama set, not one made for a grown man.

“There’s nothing else in my size,” he groans.

I lift the sweatshirt. “There’s no way this wouldn’t fit you.” Taking a step toward one of the racks, I try to find one of the cheesy pajama sets in my size. They don’t look as warm as the hoodie in my hand, but still far better than the frozen outfit I currently wear.

Beck suddenly turns to me, eating up all the distance between us until our mingling breaths warm the other. “Do you not listen? I’m not taking the warmest thing for myself because you need it. Now find a pair of pants that’ll fit you and let’s go find some other things we’ll need for the night.”

He leaves me standing there watching his retreating form, my jaw almost hanging to the floor. No matter how much he’s pissed me off today, that primal, nurturing side of Beck I just witnessed has me feeling a range of mixed emotions.

Following his instructions, I look through the options, not finding much. Eventually, I find a pair of long johns I’m almost certain are supposed to be worn as underwear when you go skiing, but it’s the best I can find given the circumstances.

When I find Beck, he’s piling various toiletry items in his arms. A box of toothbrushes almost falls to the floor as he shoves two phone chargers into the pile.

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