Page 12 of Hold Me Tight

That she might be here to supplant one of us is an unsettling thought, but it’s not enough to get the memory of her curves in those jodhpurs out of my mind.

Angela

I’m seated between Timothy and Beaumont again for lunch. I think this might be my assigned seat for the whole vacation. Bill’s odd that way. I tuck into the delicious pea and ham soup and freshly baked bread. I seriously need this recipe. I’m so totally sneaking into the kitchen later to chat with the chef, who is going to be my new best friend, whether or not they like it.

“How are the ribs holding up?” Timothy leans closer as he speaks to me. Inhaling sharply at the reminder of my humiliation, I catch a hint of his honey and oak scent. Uh-oh. Getting a crush on one of Bill’s nephews would be the worst idea in the entire world. It’s a line that I shouldnotbe crossing.

Too bad that all I could smell this morning when he showed me the horse ropes was that freaking honey and oak scent. Horses. Oh yeah, my embarrassment. My cheeks heat. I can’t believe I fell. Judging by the comically shocked looks on Bill and Rodney the groom’s faces as they raced toward me, they couldn’t believe it either.

“Sore, but I’ll live.” I take another sip of my crisp white wine. I don’t think I’ve ever had wine with lunch before unless I planned for the afternoon to be a total write-off. How on earth do these people get anything done after two o’clock? I know for a fact that Timothy, Ryan and Beaumont will go to the breakfast room to answer emails and make phone calls after this. I hope they manage to keep their head in the game. I’m going upstairs to lie down and read a book. Bill only works mornings when he’s on vacation.

Timothy seems about to say something else when Beaumont cuts him off, drawing my attention. “So, you like books, huh?”

I offer Timothy what I hope is aplease excuse mesmile and turn my head toward Beaumont. Flashinghima warm smile, I respond.

“I’ve always loved books. Growing up, the public library was one of my favorite places.”

Beaumont nods, toying with his wineglass as his narrowed eyes study my face.

“And you work with books and authors now?” His words are slow and measured. I’m pretty sure he’s on a fishing expedition.

When we were all at tea, he didn’t seem to like Bill asking me about that new author. I read her book after it was suggested by my online book club and couldn’t put it down.

When I staggered into work the next morning, Bill asked if I’d had a late night. Not wanting him to think that I was coming in to work hungover or something like that, I wryly admitted that I could not put this book down.

Bill asked me to source a copy of the book, and when I saw him the next day, he looked hungover and sleep deprived. Of course, he wants to offer the author a publishing deal. He asked me to make a note for him when he saw Beaumont during this vacation. So, I did.

I offer Beaumont another smile. “Not really. I get to set up meetings with them occasionally, and I meet them at events sometimes, but other than that, I’m a closet reader.”

“If you’re openly discussing how much you love reading, you’re not a closet reader,” Timothy drawls on my other side, smirking at Beaumont and me. I’m glad Timothy jumped in because Beaumont is still eyeing me suspiciously, and for whatever reason, I feel more at ease with Timothy than any of the rest. Maybe because he’s the only one who has tried to be a little nice to me. Yeah. Sure, that’s why. Nothing to do with him looking gorgeous and smelling heavenly. Ugh. Get it together, Angie, and keep it light!

I laugh, rolling my eyes at Timothy. “Oh no. I mean, I’m literally aclosetreader. I read sitting in my closet.”

Now both Timothy and Beaumont are staring at me.

“But… why?” Beaumont asks, scrunching his nose up while Timothy’s lips twitch like he’s trying hard not to bust out laughing.

I shrug. It’s weird, but I have a good explanation. “Because growing up, I shared a bedroom, and they didn’t like the light on, so I used to read in the closet with a flashlight. My college roommate also hated the lights on at night, so I kept up my closet reading habit. Then it became a habit that stuck.”

I’m not even kidding. I have an entire studio apartment to myself back in Chicago, and the first thing I did was put an armchair in the walk-in closet to read. It takes up most of the space, but I love it more than clothes.

Chapter Four

Angela

I blink at Bill in disbelief. He did not just say that. He looks up from his iPad, across the desk at me, his eyebrows rising slowly.

“Uh, what?”

“The car will no doubt be arriving soon. Spa day. You’re a woman. You’ll enjoy it.”

But who booked the car? I sure as shit didn’t. I don’t even need to ask, Bill reads it in my face and smirks, amused. The asshole. “I had Gladys organize it. She knows the area better than you do. The others will already be waiting. Off you go.”

I blink, slowly rising, my phone gripped in both hands. Sure, I’ve had a massage before. I’ve even had a single spa day. Bill had someone organize it for me after my disaster of a Christmas last year. It was amazing, but it was also… you know, alone. I have nothing in common with Tiffany and Sarah. Why would he think I would enjoy a spa day with them?

“This is the perfect opportunity for female bonding. Get to know the weaknesses in their relationships, and then we’ll use those to run them off. God knows, Maxwell and Ryan aren’t going to do it on their own.”

Oh, yeah. The plan. The plan that I’m not doing well at. At all. Right. “Okay. I’ll see you later then.”

---