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Authors: Tiffany King
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niece's shoulder. "Grant and Jamie, this is my niece, Maggie. Or Mags to those of us who watched her grow up from being a peanut. Maggie, this is Grant and Jamie." He finished the introductions with a nod in our direction.
"It's nice to meet you two. I expected to see you earlier after Aunt June called today," she said, reaching out to shake our hands, which was a bit awkward since I was still in Grant's arms. "You're in luck. I had a cancellation on the Washington room," she said, wiping her hands on her Christmas apron that was covered in flour. "Are you on your honeymoon?" she asked, probably wondering why Grant hadn't put me down yet.
Her question was simple enough to answer, but for some reason, it suddenly felt like the white elephant in the room. I dared not look at Grant, afraid of the mocking that was sure to be there. Knowing him, he'd come up with some kind of joke at my expense. To beat him to the punch, I jumped in with the first thing that popped into my head. "Hell no," I all but shouted, hearing myself echo in the small foyer. An uncomfortable silence filled the room and I wouldn't have blamed Grant if he dropped me on my ass.
"I mean, I hurt my ankle," I finally said, finding the rational answer. "That's why my friend Grant is carrying me."
"Oh, you poor thing. Let me show you up to your room," she said, grabbing an old-fashioned looking key off an elegant key rack that hung next to the small reception desk. "Do you want me to call Doc Jones, or are you going to go get him?" she asked Tim.
"I'm going to fetch him. That ole pickup truck of his has been giving him some issues. I keep telling him it's time to drive to the city to get a new model. You know him though. He feels if he fiddles with it a little, it'll be good as new."
"That's Doc for ya. He feels there ain't nothing broken that can't be fixed," Maggie told us with twinkling eyes as she headed for the staircase. "I'll get these two settled in then," she threw over her shoulder.
Grant followed behind her with me still tucked in his arms, which I was thankful for. After my slip of the tongue, he could have left me in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.
Maggie led us down a long hallway, stopping at the last door at the end of the hallway. She inserted the key into the lock and pushed the door open. "Welcome to the Washington Honeymoon Suite," she said, holding her arms out in a grand gesture.
"Oh hell," Grant mumbled under his breath.
Chapter 8
Turning my head, I took in the room. Our room. For a honeymoon suite, it definitely lived up to its name. Maggie got a fire started in the massive fireplace that was across from a king-sized sleigh bed, which would have dominated the space if not for how large the room was. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases covered the walls on either side of the fireplace. As beautiful as the room was, my eyes only seemed to be able to focus on the one bed.
"You folks were actually pretty lucky. This storm made it impossible for the newlyweds who paid for this room to make it. They decided to fly to Bermuda instead, but that means all the amenities they bought are now yours," Maggie said, pointing to a bottle of champagne that was chilling by the fireplace next to a platter of decadent chocolate-covered strawberries. I would have laughed if the whole situation didn't seem so ridiculous. How did I go from flying home for the holidays to being laid up in a honeymoon suite with my high school crush?
"This is fantastic," Grant said in a strangled voice, depositing me on the bed and backing up toward the door. "I better go see if the doctor is here," he said before fleeing from the room.
Maggie looked at me questioningly as I burst out laughing. "He's a bit of a commitment-phobe," I said, though it really wasn't funny. I had officially lost it.
"How long have you two been dating?" Maggie asked, taking my jacket and hanging it in the closet.
"Oh, no, we're not dating," I said, leaning back against the stack of pillows
"It's nice to meet you two. I expected to see you earlier after Aunt June called today," she said, reaching out to shake our hands, which was a bit awkward since I was still in Grant's arms. "You're in luck. I had a cancellation on the Washington room," she said, wiping her hands on her Christmas apron that was covered in flour. "Are you on your honeymoon?" she asked, probably wondering why Grant hadn't put me down yet.
Her question was simple enough to answer, but for some reason, it suddenly felt like the white elephant in the room. I dared not look at Grant, afraid of the mocking that was sure to be there. Knowing him, he'd come up with some kind of joke at my expense. To beat him to the punch, I jumped in with the first thing that popped into my head. "Hell no," I all but shouted, hearing myself echo in the small foyer. An uncomfortable silence filled the room and I wouldn't have blamed Grant if he dropped me on my ass.
"I mean, I hurt my ankle," I finally said, finding the rational answer. "That's why my friend Grant is carrying me."
"Oh, you poor thing. Let me show you up to your room," she said, grabbing an old-fashioned looking key off an elegant key rack that hung next to the small reception desk. "Do you want me to call Doc Jones, or are you going to go get him?" she asked Tim.
"I'm going to fetch him. That ole pickup truck of his has been giving him some issues. I keep telling him it's time to drive to the city to get a new model. You know him though. He feels if he fiddles with it a little, it'll be good as new."
"That's Doc for ya. He feels there ain't nothing broken that can't be fixed," Maggie told us with twinkling eyes as she headed for the staircase. "I'll get these two settled in then," she threw over her shoulder.
Grant followed behind her with me still tucked in his arms, which I was thankful for. After my slip of the tongue, he could have left me in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.
Maggie led us down a long hallway, stopping at the last door at the end of the hallway. She inserted the key into the lock and pushed the door open. "Welcome to the Washington Honeymoon Suite," she said, holding her arms out in a grand gesture.
"Oh hell," Grant mumbled under his breath.
Chapter 8
Turning my head, I took in the room. Our room. For a honeymoon suite, it definitely lived up to its name. Maggie got a fire started in the massive fireplace that was across from a king-sized sleigh bed, which would have dominated the space if not for how large the room was. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases covered the walls on either side of the fireplace. As beautiful as the room was, my eyes only seemed to be able to focus on the one bed.
"You folks were actually pretty lucky. This storm made it impossible for the newlyweds who paid for this room to make it. They decided to fly to Bermuda instead, but that means all the amenities they bought are now yours," Maggie said, pointing to a bottle of champagne that was chilling by the fireplace next to a platter of decadent chocolate-covered strawberries. I would have laughed if the whole situation didn't seem so ridiculous. How did I go from flying home for the holidays to being laid up in a honeymoon suite with my high school crush?
"This is fantastic," Grant said in a strangled voice, depositing me on the bed and backing up toward the door. "I better go see if the doctor is here," he said before fleeing from the room.
Maggie looked at me questioningly as I burst out laughing. "He's a bit of a commitment-phobe," I said, though it really wasn't funny. I had officially lost it.
"How long have you two been dating?" Maggie asked, taking my jacket and hanging it in the closet.
"Oh, no, we're not dating," I said, leaning back against the stack of pillows
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