I kiss him back slowly, then turn back to the door. “Go on, then. Show me my surprise.”
He taps the keycard against the keypad. A light flashes green, and he gestures for me to turn the handle. My eyes widen as the door swings open.
FORTY-SEVEN
LAYLA
The guys haven’t just got us a hotel room: they’ve booked out a whole suite. The place is gorgeous. Huge, with high white ceilings and softly glowing chandeliers. The walls are covered with splashy watercolours, and one corner of the room is set up as a bar, complete with rows and rows of bottles of liquor.
Luke and Zack are already there, shoes and jackets off, sprawled out on the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. It’s probably two metres wide, and stacked high with plush-looking pillows.
We’ll all fit.
My heart flutters. I float over and touch the pristine white sheets, smiling as my fingers slip over the glossy fabric. “This is real silk,” I practically purr.
Zack snorts. “Told you she’d notice.”
“We requested them from the hotel specifically,” Luke admits. “I thought you’d appreciate it.”
Appreciate it? I want to get on my knees and rub my cheek against it. I want to gather all of the fabric up and take it home to make a wedding dress. This quality of silk is wasted on bedsheets.
“I found her with a guy at the reception,” Josh says behind me, taking off his jacket. “He was inviting her up to his hotel room.”
Luke’s smile drops off his face. Zack gasps, scandalised. “Are you fake cheating on me?” He clasps a hand to his chest.
I shrug. “You told me to practice flirting.”
“Baby. I didn’t mean it. You’re the best fake girlfriend I’ve ever had, I can’t share you with another man!”
Luke coughs.
“Okay. I can’t share you with a third man,” Zack allows. “Two is my limit.”
“Sorry. Instructions were unclear. Now I’m in love with a stranger.” I look around with wide eyes. “Guys, what the Hell is this?”
“We’ve got it for the long weekend,” Josh says. “After the wedding is done tomorrow, we’ll have Sunday and Monday to ourselves. I think after the last few weeks, you deserve a minibreak.”
“This is ridiculous,” I breathe, turning to the nightstand. It’s overflowing with complimentary gifts: a box of chocolates wrapped in a gold ribbon, a gift basket full of soaps and massage oil, and a massive bouquet of red roses, wrapped in shiny cellophane. There’s a tiny card nestled in the flower-buds, and I pick it out, reading the embossed writing.
Welcome to the Honeymoon Suite.
My mouth falls open. I spin back to face the guys. “The Honeymoon Suite?”
Zack puts up his hands. “Only room with a big enough bed, babe. Not our fault the peasant suites are for sad little boring couples.”
“But—” I sputter, then turn to Josh. “Shouldn’t your brother be in here? He’s the one getting married!”
“The Bridal Suite is different,” Luke says, sitting up on the bed. His white shirt has been unbuttoned at the collar. He looks deliciously rumpled. “It has separate rooms for the bride and groom, so they can get ready without seeing each other before the wedding.”
“That’s boring,” Zack mutters. “What if I want a last-minute quickie?”
Luke looks amused. “There’s an inter-joining master bedroom in the middle of the suite, for their last night of pre-marital life. Or, as you so romantically put it, any last-minute quickies.”
I frown at him. “How do you know all that?”
He reaches for me, tugging me between his knees. “I’ve spent the night there, remember?”
It takes me a second to work out what he means. “Wait. Is this the same venue you got married at?”
His smile is tight. “Amy clearly didn’t want to go through the hassle of organising a wedding again. Even the invitations are the same template we used.”
My mouth falls open. “That’s screwed up. Are you okay?”
“It’s fine,” he says, smiling unconvincingly. I reach up to trace the lines under his eyes, worry tugging at me.
He’s tired. He didn’t join me, Josh and Zack in bed last night. When I got up in the middle of the night for some water, I found him just sitting on the couch in the living room, reading. At four in the morning. Clearly I’m not the only one who’s anxious about the wedding.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Luke curves his hands over my hips, then pulls me closer into his body. “I’d much rather be here,” he says into my hair. “With you.”
I smile, letting him tug me into a kiss. When we pull apart, my brain is fizzing with sparks, and Josh and Zack are both watching with hungry eyes. I lean forward to press my mouth against Josh’s —
There’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Josh calls. The front door of the suite opens, and a bellboy dressed in a dark burgundy outfit steps inside, pushing a gold tray full of covered dishes.
I sit up, my stomach rumbling. It smells amazing. “Wait. What’s all this?”
Josh joins the man and starts helping him uncover the plates. I stare as the dishes are revealed: plates of steaming linguine, pizza, garlic bread melting with butter. My mouth waters.
“We’re celebrating,” Josh says simply, lifting up a silver cloche to reveal a plate of chocolate fondants. “I think you deserve it.” He glances at the bed. “If we put a towel down, do you wanna eat in bed? We have seven courses.”
“That’s the hottest thing a man has ever said to me,” I breathe. All three men laugh.
Luke wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his lap. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’m feeding you tonight.”
Half an hour later, I’m pretty much in heaven.
We’re all sitting on the bed, eating from the massive array of plates. Zack and Josh are sprawled out on the sheets, their collars loosened and sleeves rolled up. As promised, Luke has sat me on his lap and is feeding me himself. Every time I try to pull free and reach for something, he makes a low noise in his chest and drags my hands back to his thighs. I’m pinned in place.
It’s kind of hot. And judging by the hard-on nudging against my backside, he thinks so, too.
We’ve managed to demolish most of the courses by now, and I’m full and sleepy and happy as I lean against Luke’s chest. He scoops up a forkful of chocolate fondant and holds it to my lips, watching intently as I eat the bite. My eyes flutter shut as chocolate fudge melts all over my tongue.
Josh clears his throat, stretching out his legs. “So,” he says, nudging me with his socked foot. “I’ve been meaning to ask.”
I force my eyes back open. “Mm?”
“Tell us more about this invitation from Anna.”
I smile, sinking back against Luke as he takes a bite of cake. “She offered to fly me out to New York in a couple of weeks, so she can see my stuff in person. If it works out, I could form a collaboration with her. Stay in New York, get my stuff put in her shops and featured in her fashion week shows.”
Zack freezes midway through picking up a strawberry. “New York, lass?”
I nod. “Fashion capital of the world. It’s where everything happens.”
“Will you have to design something new for her?” Josh asks slowly.
“I submitted my Butterfly design. I’ll have to make some changes to incorporate it into her style, though.”
Zack immediately looks outraged. “No! You can’t let her take credit for it, it’s yours!”
“I’d get credit,” I say patiently. “It’s a collaboration. Plus I’d get a massive influx of attention and money to pour into the product.”
“But she’d make money off you,” he complains.
I sigh. “Josh, tell Zack how marketing works.”
Josh shakes his head, his brow furrowed. “How long would you stay in New York? Weeks? Months?”
I shrug. “Hopefully, while I’m out there, I’d be able to set my own roots. Actually start up a brick-and-mortar store.”
“What does that mean for you?” Luke says slowly. “You’d move to America? Forever?”
I nod. There are a few seconds of silence. The men exchange looks. I frown. I was hoping for slightly more excitement.