After eating, most of the guests either went back to their rooms or headed into the living room for an after dinner drink. Ian, however, leaned close and whispered, “Feel like exploring?”
Seeing how his question wrapped around her spine like a naughty suggestion, Chloe should have said no. The reckless side of her took charge, however, and she leaped at the offer.
Josef had told her the Bluebird’s history when he was showing her to the room. The original structure dated back to the Civil War, while additions were added over the years based on the owners’ needs. As a result, the first floor was a crazy pattern of rooms and hallways.
“Should we tie a string to one of the doorknobs in case we get lost?” she asked Ian.
“Where’s your sense of adventure, Curlilocks?” he teased. “Besides, the place only looks confusing because the lights are out.”
Precisely her problem. She wasn’t sure if Josef and Dagmar were trying to reduce strain on the generator or discourage guests from roaming, but the rear of the inn was dark except for some isolated night-lights and lanterns. “Aren’t these people worried about law suits?” she asked, tripping over a raised floorboard.
“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall.”
Would he? She’d made him make the same promise in the parking lot this afternoon, only she wasn’t sure she meant literally anymore. Ever since their conversation in her room, her insides felt like one of the wind-tossed trees outside.
It hardly helped matters that their conversation over dinner had further strengthened the connection she felt toward him. Nor did it help that he stood so close to her she could smell the wool of his sweater.
They rounded a corner and came to a small reading room.
“This must be the library Josef mentioned,” Ian said.
As was the case in the other rooms, the lights were off, leaving a small fireplace as the sole source of illumination.
“How many fireplaces are there in this place?” Chloe asked. “Must take forever to light them all.”
“Maybe, but you won’t hear me complain.”
“Me, neither,” she hastened to assure him. “A night like this one screams for a warm fire.” And the flames were far too inviting. She held up her hands. The heat burned her palms, causing the rest of her body to shiver from the temperature difference.
“Cold?” Ian appeared near her shoulder.
Chloe shook her head. “I like firelight, is all. You know, that’s how I started going to your coffee shop.”
“We don’t have a fireplace.”
“No, but your walls are fire-colored. All the red and orange—very warm and appealing.”
“I had no idea. And here I thought you came in because of Aiden.”
Aiden. Those days seemed so long ago. “He’s why I started going so often, but I first walked in because of the decor.”
Spying the fireplace set, she picked up the poker and began moving the logs around so the flame would burn brighter. “Blame the visual artist in me—I’m attracted to bright colors. There’s something about them that’s very....welcoming. Like fireplaces.”
“Remind me not repaint, then. I wouldn’t want you to feel cold.”
He was joking, but the comment still made her tingle from the inside out. She gave the logs another poke. Sparks popped and floated upward. “You really want me to stay warm in your café, turn the heat up a couple notches.”
“Let’s not get carried away. I said I wanted you warm, not the whole damn customer base. How about I loan you another sweatshirt instead?”
“One’s enough, thank you. A second would require another mugging, and I think I’ve had my fill.”
The fire burned brightly now. Content, Chloe gave the log one last poke, then set the implement aside, as Ian squatted down next to the hearth.
“You’re right,” he said. “The fire does feel nice.”
“Doesn’t it? Too bad we don’t have marshmallows we could toast.”
“We could always raid the pantry. See what kind of secret stash they keep in there.”
Chloe plopped down next to him. “Not much of a raid when you’ve got the hostess wrapped around your little finger.”
“What makes you say something like that?”
“Oh, I don’t know...how about ‘Do you want more coffee, Mr. Black? How do you like the crème brûlée, Mr. Black? I hope the meal met with your standards, Mr. Black.’” With each “Mr. Black” she imitated the woman’s lilting Scandinavian accent. The innkeeper had been very solicitous.
“She was simply being a good hostess.”
“Toward you, maybe. I had to wait twenty minutes for my iced coffee. In fact, the only reason I got served at all was because she wanted to bring you a refill.”
“Now you’re just exaggerating.”
“Am I, Mr. Black?”
A small smile threatened the corners of Ian’s mouth. If Chloe didn’t know better, she’d say he was purposely trying to goad her. “I suppose it’s possible the woman recognized my name and was a little impressed.”
“If you say so, although...” It was Chloe’s turn to do a little goading of her own. “...I don’t think it was your name she was staring at when you walked to the men’s room. Unless that’s what you’re calling your behind these days.”
Ian laughed. The carefree sound made Chloe’s heart give a tiny bounce. “How would you know she was staring at my rear end? Unless you were watching, too?” He gave her shoulder a nudge.
“I was simply following her line of sight.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Seriously. I was not staring at your rear end.” Actually, she was, but she certainly wouldn’t admit it to him.
“Too bad,” he replied. “Because then I could feel less guilty about staring at yours.”
Chloe did a double take. “You were not.” When did he have the opportunity? When she’d gotten up to use the ladies’ room? “No way.”
“You’ll never know, will you?”
He was mimicking her comment from upstairs, although in his case, the words sounded far sexier. Then again, she was pretty sure he could read the fine print on a contract and make it sound sexy. Her skin grew hot. She couldn’t help herself. Every compliment, implied or otherwise, took up residence in her chest, leaving the space between her heart and lungs so full it was hard to breathe.
Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, and what had started as lighthearted grew still and expectant. The mirth disappeared from Ian’s gaze, replaced by a new light, hot like the center of a flame. Outside, branches slapped at the house as trees bent and swayed to nature’s will. Looking into Ian’s eyes, Chloe swore she was bending and swaying, too.
“Dear God, but you’re beautiful,” she heard him whisper. His knuckles brushed across her cheek, the featherlight touch making her shiver. “Thank—”
His kiss swallowed the rest.
A whimper caught in Chloe’s throat. It was a slow, sensual kiss, full of passionate promise.
Her eyes fluttered closed. He tasted like coffee, and the small part of her brain still working realized she would never think the same way about the beverage again.
“Oh! I did not realize anyone was in here.”
Josef’s voice broke the spell. Ian’s arms dropped away, leaving Chloe swaying for purchase. As she struggled to regain her composure, she swore her ragged breathing was the only sound in the room. Frankly, she wouldn’t be surprised if they could hear it on the upper floors —along with the sound of her racing heartbeat.
“I was coming in to check on the fire before heading upstairs,” the innkeeper said. From the way he hovered in the door frame, he didn’t know whether to complete his task or not.
Ian was the first to recover. Shooting Chloe an indecipherable look, he turned and smiled at the innkeeper. “Go on upstairs. We’ll take care of the fire.”
“Well, if you are sure...” He, too, gave Chloe a look, which she returned with a weak smile. Hopefully the embarrassment creeping up her spine didn’t show too much. Being caught necking in a darkened room. Talk about awkward.
Especially since the kiss felt like way more than mere necking. Making out had never left her aching with such need before. It was as though her soul had woken up from a long nap she hadn’t realize she’d been taking.
“All you need to do is close the glass door. The fire will burn out on its own.”
“Will do,” Ian told him.
Unable to voice anything more than a whisper, Chloe gave a small wave goodbye. Her heart had yet to slow down. If anything, her pulse kicked up another notch as soon as Josef disappeared around the corner. She turned back to Ian, expecting to find a desire to match.
His face was shuttered. “I...it’s been a long day.”
No need to say more. She wasn’t good enough for a serial dater. Why make the moment worse with a whole lot of false apologies and excuses?
At least now she knew how to take all his implied compliments. “You’re right,” she said. “I should be heading upstairs. See you in the morning?” The hopeful note that sneaked in at the end of her question made her want to kick herself.