Six Month Rule (Kingston Ale House) (14 page)

Holly drew in a breath as he crawled into bed next to her, still in his white oxford and cargo shorts. He slid an arm behind her and pulled her back to his chest.

“You didn’t tell me you could see the stars from here.”

“Now you know,” he said. “Did you take the NyQuil?”

She nodded, then yawned before she closed her lips over a mound of strawberry ice cream on her spoon, a smile spreading across her face as she swallowed.

“Will?”

“Yeah?”

“This was the worst night in the history of nights,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“But it’s also kind of the best,” she added, her eyes growing heavy.

“Yeah,” he said, taking the bowl from her hands and depositing it on his nightstand.

“Thank you.” The words came out dreamily. “I love everything you did for me tonight.”

She burrowed into him, her furnace-like body making him perspire, but he didn’t care. Not one bit.

“You’re welcome.” He buried his face in her hair and kissed her head.

Then Holly was snoring like his old university roommate after a weekend bender. He laughed softly. It didn’t matter.

Will loved everything he did for her tonight, too.

Chapter Seventeen

Someone knocked on the door, and Holly woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. In
a
bed, but it wasn’t
her
bed. She peeked under the blanket. Not naked. She was
not
naked and
not
in her own bed.

Her nose was a little stuffy, and her head was a lot foggy, but that didn’t stop her from recognizing two of her favorite scents—coffee and bacon.
Room service.
It all came flooding back to her now. The break-in at Trousseau, her fever, ice cream, and a healthy dose of NyQuil.

She was in Will’s bed, the morning after sleeping together. Well, not
sleeping
together, but they’d slept in the same bed. Hadn’t they? And when Holly and Will slept in a bed together, the morning after did not include bacon and coffee.

Her first instinct was to clamber for her clothes and hightail it on out of this ridiculously comfy bed. Were these down pillows? She sank back into hers to test it, and instinct made her close her eyes and snuggle against the plushness. She wondered if she’d brought a purse big enough to smuggle it home, because there was no way she was laying her head on anything else again. Except maybe Will Evans’s chest, but that was another story.

“How’s our girl this morning?”

She couldn’t help but smile when she heard that voice, one almost as luxurious as the pillow beneath her head.

“She’s in love,” Holly said dreamily. Then her eyes opened wide. “I mean, with the pillow. I’m in love with the pillow.” She sat up and pulled her downy lover into her lap, cradling it against her body. “In love with a pillow and still a bit groggy on NyQuil. Please don’t hold me responsible for any verbal vomit for at least another six hours. I forgot how that stuff knocks me out.”

Okay, floor. Open up and swallow me, please.

But Will placed a covered plate on her nightstand along with a to-go coffee cup she would bet contained a hazelnut soy latte, and she decided there were better, more delicious ways to contain her befuddled speech.

She lifted the dome off the plate—eggs, crisp bacon, and a toasted bagel—and inhaled the steam, which not only helped to clear her sinuses but also convinced her that there was no way she was leaving this bed until she ate her breakfast. This might go against protocol, but then again, it would be rude to bail on someone who simply wanted to feed you.

Will sat down on the edge of the bed and laid a palm on her cheek.

“Your fever’s gone down,” he said. “When’s the last time you slept past ten o’clock?”

Holly gasped. “What?
Ten o’clock?
What time is it? I—I have to get a new tablet and redo the presentation.” She scrambled to get up, but he placed a firm grip on each shoulder and settled her back against the headboard.

“
Holly.
” His voice was gentle yet full of authority, so she stopped resisting and let herself relax.

“What?”

“Eat.”

“But I—” She tried to protest, but he shut her up by sticking a piece of bacon in her mouth, and she let out a soft moan as she began to chew. “You aren’t playing fair,” she said after swallowing, and he laughed.

“I didn’t know the way to your heart was through bacon.”

She grabbed a second piece and devoured it before responding.

“It’s not, Billy.” She lifted piece number three to her lips. “It’s the way to my soul.” She was about to take a bite when she realized her gracious host wasn’t eating anything at all.

“Where’s your breakfast?” she asked. “I’m sitting here stuffing my face, and you’re just watching me.”

He kissed her on the forehead, and she realized that other than falling asleep in his arms last night, nothing at all had happened between them since he arrived at her apartment for the Labor Day barbecue. She felt a pang in her gut, a longing for something that was right in front of her. How could she miss something she still had? Will’s response interrupted her thoughts, and she was grateful for the distraction.

“I’ve been working since seven. Tallulah Chan is my biggest client at the moment, but she’s not my only one. I had a conference call, answered some emails, and then I called Andrea to get the corporate account number and sent the concierge to get your new tablet. Somewhere in the middle of that I had my own breakfast and an espresso. So eat up, and then we’ll get your presentation sorted out.”

Was this guy for real? Holly blinked at him a few times, but he was still there.

“You got my tablet?” she asked, bacon still dangling between her thumb and forefinger. She dropped it back on the plate.

Will nodded. “Yes, but I couldn’t download the presentation app without your log-in. It’s charged and ready to go, though. You can use my laptop for anything you need to retrieve from your online storage and, well—I’m at your disposal.”

Her heart leapt, and she silently ordered it back to its proper resting place, because, frankly, Holly Chandler wasn’t a leaping-heart kind of girl. She assured herself that this was the effect of the fever and the NyQuil—and the freaking bacon. It had all caught her off guard. Yet she couldn’t let his damn chivalry go unnoticed without some sort of a thank-you.

“You did all that for me?” she asked. “And you want to help with the presentation, too?”

“Of course.” The sincerity in his voice, his crinkled brow—it was more than she could handle in her vulnerable state.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

He pressed his lips together in a thin line, like he was about to say something weighty. But then he grinned. Holly knew this grin. It was the same one he’d given Marisa Gonzalez the day they met and told her they wanted to piggyback off the W’s New Year’s Eve celebration. It was a gorgeous smile, as all of Will Evans’s smiles were. But it was also 100 percent fake. He had just given her his
I’m charming, so don’t you want to work with me?
grin.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something when you’re feeling well again,” he said, then stood.

Holly finally noticed that she was in a T-shirt and he was fully clothed in a fitted navy polo shirt and khaki pants that hugged his shape in all the right places. She shook her head and collected herself.

“What’s with the business casual?”

Will shrugged. “My call this morning was a video conference. We’re going to be working today. Seemed appropriate.”

Fine. He wanted to give her business smile and business wear? She could be all business, too.

“Give me a few minutes to finish eating and freshen up, then,” she said. “I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Of course.” And Will exited the room.

Holly found her phone plugged in and charging on the nightstand. Jeez, he’d even found a charger for her.

Gemini: It’s okay to be vulnerable today. You don’t always have to put on a show. Let others see a new side of you, one you’re not always willing to share. You may be surprised at the reaction you receive.

She blew out a breath. How was she supposed to stop performing when Will was putting on an act of his own?

She tossed the phone on the bed and picked up where she left off with her breakfast, allowing herself a few more minutes of bacon-induced ecstasy. Then it would be business as usual.

…

As soon as the screen went black, Holly let out a long breath. They’d done it. They’d freaking done it.

“Well,” Andrea said. “That presentation seemed…rushed.” She glanced at Holly, then at Will. “Don’t get me wrong,” she added. “You pulled it off, but only just. It’s because I’ve known you for five years, Holly, that I also know that you’re usually much more polished than this. What’s going on?”

She and Will had worked tirelessly yesterday. Once they started piecing the presentation back together, she’d forgotten the weirdness between them that morning. But the process that had taken Holly nearly a week the first time had to be replicated in less than twenty-four hours while she felt like crap and with a partner who didn’t know the application like she did. Will had kept her fed and medicated when her fever spiked again. He’d made her take needed breaks she would have ignored on her own, and when at midnight they’d had the bare bones of a presentation—compared to the original—he drove her home in her car and wished her a good night’s sleep before catching a cab back to his hotel.

“I can explain,” Will said, and Holly shook her head at him. She had no idea what he was about to say but knew this was her responsibility. Not his.

“I didn’t back up my work for the weekend,” Holly admitted. “It was a long week, and I was looking forward to weekend plans when I left on Friday. It was careless, and I’m sorry. But believe me, Andrea. It won’t happen again.” She didn’t bother adding that she’d put everything together while fighting a fever. She didn’t make excuses. Plain and simple, she’d dropped the ball.

Andrea tapped a pencil on the conference table and sighed.

“I know it won’t,” she said. “Because you know how important this account is, even more so after what happened Sunday afternoon.” She let out a long breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, Holly. I’m not putting this all on you. The break-in certainly wasn’t your fault, and I know that you are capable of doing great things. But please understand the added pressure this puts on Trousseau—on all of us. My insurance payments just skyrocketed, and we can’t afford any other kind of loss this year. I hope this makes you understand how much I depend on you—how much
more
I’ll depend on you to stay focused if you’re going to be my partner.”

Okay, so maybe Holly didn’t make excuses, and while on the outside she kept it together, a considerate smile plastered on her face, inside she flinched at that word “if.” She’d owned up to her shortcomings, but it still seemed as if Andrea was giving her a warning. After five years, was she still testing her? Yes, if she totally blew it with this event, she would completely understand if Andrea changed her mind. But Holly had worked her ass off to right this wrong, and even if her boss had noticed it wasn’t her best work, the extenuating circumstances went further than a lack of freaking focus.

That last thought urged her to look at Will, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“Of course, Andrea,” she said. “I understand.”

Andrea pushed her chair back and stood from the table. “Good. I’m off to the insurance office to fill out some claims paperwork. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Once Andrea was out of the room, Will finally looked at her across the table, his blue eyes dark and contemplative.

“Well,” Holly said, infusing pep into her voice in the hopes of lightening the mood. “We won that one by a nose, didn’t we?” She smiled, but he didn’t return the gesture.

“We didn’t
win
anything, Holly. And Andrea’s tone? She shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, not without some bloody privacy.”

She cleared her throat. “So you’re embarrassed for me? Is that it? Because I can handle Andrea. I don’t need your pity, and I certainly don’t need your rescuing. What was that with you and your
I can explain
? This was
my
presentation,
my
mistake in not backing up, and
my
responsibility to clear the air with my boss.”

She was standing now. She knew her adrenaline was fueled more by Andrea’s treatment of her than Will’s, but she couldn’t unleash on her, so she’d dish it out to him.

“I appreciate everything you did for me yesterday,” she told him. “I really do. But I’m good at my job, Will. Hell, I’m great at it. And if I make a mistake here and there, it’s because I’m human, not incompetent. I don’t need you to go all chivalrous on me in the office and try to fight my battles.”

“Are you finished?” he asked.

She nodded.

“May I say something?”

Ugh, those words.
May I?
They brought her back to the first night they kissed and then to that night of other firsts. But this
May I?
didn’t sound the same. It wasn’t flirtatious or sexy. His even tone made it sound anxious. Or maybe that’s just how hearing it made her feel.

She nodded again.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was out of line.”

She let out a breath.

“That’s not what I thought you were going to say,” she admitted, then realized how unfounded her fear was. Because she had sat there waiting for the blow, for him to say whatever this was needed to end. But how could she be afraid of the inevitable? How could she anticipate missing what she’d never wanted in the first place?

“What were you expecting?” he asked, but she just shook her head.

“Nothing. Apology accepted.”

Will’s shoulders relaxed, and she wondered where his relief stemmed from. But she didn’t ask.

“Good,” he said, a grin taking over his features.

“Good,” she echoed, and the subject was dismissed.

October

Chapter Eighteen

“Back up so I can see you,” Will said as Holly grinned at him through his laptop screen. With her hair parted down the center and woven into two long plaits, the ends curled into long corkscrews, she looked ten years younger, and he knew the teen version of himself would have followed her to the ends of the earth. But he wasn’t a teen, and she might have been dressed like Dorothy Gale, but Dorothy sure as hell didn’t have a sexy smile like that. And now that he could see her costume from head to toe, ruby stilettos and all, more than just his Tin Man mouth was stiff.

“Like what you see?” she asked, and he bit his lip. He liked.

“Very…
very
much,” he told her, and she beamed.

“Your turn,” Holly said. “Lemme see my sexy Tin Man.”

He adjusted himself in his now too-tight trousers and mumbled “Bugger” under his breath. Only she could motivate him enough to wake at half past three in the morning, put his costume back on, and wait for her to Skype him from a party. She hadn’t even asked.
He’d
suggested it. Will had done his best to make the request sound like an opportunity for them to have a good laugh. She could walk around the party with him on her phone screen as her date. But the truth was, he simply missed her. Not that he’d tell her that.

“What’s the matter?” Despite her question, she was still grinning, not concerned at all.

Will stood, which actually gave him some relief, and backed up so his laptop camera could capture his full height.

She giggled.

“Only you could figure out a way to dress up for Halloween and wear a three-piece suit.” Then she brought her palm to her chest. “But I’ll be the first to admit you are the sexiest Tin Man I’ve ever seen.”

He grinned at this, then removed the gray-and-white pinstripe jacket and loosened his silver tie.

“It was a last-minute costume. If you recall, I was ready to take Sophie for tricks and treats in plain clothes.
You
insisted we spend Halloween together despite being an ocean apart.”

Holly tapped her ruby stiletto–covered foot. Good god, those shoes. She was going to have to wear those when he returned. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I wonder if
you
recall a certain tall, dark, and British someone who insisted he virtually accompany me to Jamie’s Halloween party.”

He did recall. It wasn’t as if Halloween was particularly important to him. Sophie enjoyed it, and he was happy to celebrate the holiday with his daughter, especially since Tara and Phillip had their own party to attend, so he had Sophie all to himself for the entire evening and Sunday morning, which he guessed was
this
morning. But Holly loved it, and as much as he was happy to be where he was, this was one of those weekends he wished he could be two places at once.

“Where are you at the moment?” he asked, noting what looked like a whiteboard behind her.

“Jamie’s office,” she said. “It’s the only place quiet enough for me to hear you. Once I bring you out there, we won’t be able to talk anymore.”

He yawned, and Holly’s expression morphed into a pout.

“This is ridiculous,” she told him. “You need your sleep. You’re jet-lagged, and now you’re up in the middle of the night, and if I know you, you’ll go do some work or something after this and not go back to sleep and be a wreck for work on Monday.”

Will chuckled. “Thanks, Mum. How about you take me on a tour of the party, and then I promise not only to go right back to bed but also to have a lie-in as long as Sophie lets me.”

“God, I love it when you talk British.”

He rolled his eyes. “Show me everyone’s costumes already. I’ll say good-bye now so you can just close out the app when you’re done.”

“Good-bye, Billy.”

She blew him a kiss, and he shook his head.

“Good-bye, Dorothy.”

With that she exited the office and aimed her phone at every patron she passed, then gave him a reaction shot for each. She beamed when she showed him a couple dressed as Fred and Wilma from
The Flintstones
. Then she offered him a thumbs-down after she passed a girl wearing a T-shirt that said
This is my costume
. When she found a guy dressed as the Wilson volleyball from
Castaway
, she took a screen shot since she couldn’t access her camera while still connected to Skype. Finally, she made her way to the bar, where Brynn and Jamie were both serving patrons pints that looked more like witch’s brew than lager.

“Food coloring!” Holly yelled over the din, and Will could tell she was loving this. He was, too. This was the first time they’d done this—spent time together while they were apart. The time difference had always negated such a thing, but for some reason he didn’t want to miss this, and now that he was “here” with her, he was glad he hadn’t.

“Who’s your sister supposed to be?” he asked, and Holly’s brows furrowed.

“Let me put the phone by my ear!” she yelled again, and he chuckled.

“I asked who your sister’s supposed to be!”

He could tell Jamie was a superhero, the Green Arrow. His costume was minimal, but the green hood and mask over his eyes were enough to evoke the Robin Hood–esque comic book figure. But Brynn simply wore a dress with her curly hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, a pair of black-framed glasses, and bright lipstick.

“They’re Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak!” she yelled. When he showed no sign of recognition, she added, “It’s from an American television show!”

He nodded. If there was one thing he hadn’t taken an interest in since coming to the States, it was television. His hotel offered plenty of channels, but the little free time he had he spent with Holly, and so far they had not watched any telly.

He nodded, not bothering to try responding with a comment, as he knew she couldn’t hear a word he said. She sipped a pint of glowing green brew, alternating where she pointed the phone—at a costumed patron or at herself for her reaction. And only because the noise of the pub would drown him out, he decided it was a good idea to say what he never said when he left for a weekend.

“I miss you, Holly.”

Only when he said the words, there was suddenly no party to drown him out. Instead he heard Holly ask, “What?”

Shite. He didn’t catch that she’d turned back the way she came once she made it to the end of the bar. Will could see now that she was back in Jamie’s office. It wasn’t like she didn’t know how he felt. He’d woken before the bloody crack of dawn to “attend” the party with her.

I love this. I love the way you touch me. I love how you taste.

They’d both spoken many sentences that used that
L
word, but no real
feelings
were ever expressed. But missing Holly when he was away from her—that was an emotional reaction. And he’d said it. And fuck it if he wasn’t going to say it again.

“I said I miss you.”

His voice was steady, and he spoke with conviction. They were four months in and eight weeks from the end of this thing, and dammit if he was going to head back to London in January without letting her know she meant
something
to him.

Holly sat in Jamie’s desk chair and set the phone down in front of her. She sipped her beer.

“You miss me.”

She wasn’t asking, just repeating what he’d already said twice.

He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I bloody miss you. I
always
miss you when I’m here. I’m grateful I get to see Sophie, but it’s getting more difficult to leave each time I do.”

Holly’s eyes widened, and she hiccupped as she sipped from her pint, a dribble of green liquid dripping off her chin and onto her white top.

“Shit!” she said, rubbing at the green stain with her index finger.

Will chuckled. “You’re in a pub. Go ask Jamie for some soda water.”

But her eyes remained on the task at hand. She licked her thumb and rubbed at the spot.

“
Holly.
” He didn’t yell, but he spoke with enough force to convince her to meet his gaze.

“What?” she asked. The effervescent party girl he was with minutes ago had disappeared. Though she smiled when she looked at him, her eyes were anything but happy.

“Is it not okay that I miss you?” he asked. “Do you not miss me? I mean, what are we doing right now? Why am I awake and fully clothed?”

“You offered!” she blurted, and he nodded.

“And you accepted. Christ, Holly. Why can’t you just admit this one little detail? Look at me, for fuck’s sake. I’m in a suit before six o’clock on a Sunday morning.”

This made her laugh.

“You
do
look pretty spectacular in a suit,” she said.

He raised a brow.

“What about
out
of a suit?”

Holly’s teeth grazed her bottom lip, and she grinned.

“Yeah. I like that, too,” she admitted. “But we don’t say things like that, Will. I kind of thought it was an unwritten rule, you know? Because what would be the point when we know where this leads?”

He blew out a long breath.

“Maybe I’m changing the rules,” he said and watched her suck in a breath. “Not entirely,” he assured her. He knew she wasn’t in it for the long haul, especially since with him that meant not only England but Sophie, too. He was one hell of a package deal, and the wrong package for someone who didn’t do long term and wasn’t looking to become a parent any time soon.

“How, then?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“If it doesn’t matter,” he said, “then why not say whatever we want
whenever
we want to say it? If we wipe the slate clean on the first of the year, then anything between now and then doesn’t have to mean anything other than what it means in the moment. And right now, Holly Chandler, in this moment—or six hours into the future for you—I miss your smile.”

As soon as he said the words, she tried to suppress the one that teased at her lips.

“I miss your eyes,” he added. “Especially when you look at me with your brow all furrowed thinking I’m crazy.” She was laughing now. “I miss eating ice cream with you, looking at the stars with you, and hearing what kind of prediction your horoscope has for you and the way you claim it’s utter bullshit when I know you buy into it just a little bit.”

She narrowed her gaze at him, but she didn’t protest.

“I miss
you
, Holly. And when I get home tonight—tomorrow for you—I’m taking a taxi straight to your place because I refuse to miss you any longer than is necessary. Are we clear on this?”

“You said
home
.” Holly spoke as she nodded, and this time Will was the one with the furrowed brow. “You said,
when I get home tonight
.”

He swallowed hard at the realization. England was home, as was Sophie. He knew that, and it would never change. But maybe Holly Chandler was beginning to feel a bit like home as well.

“My mistake,” he told her. “Jet lag.”

But they both knew that was a lie. Will might have modified the rules, but he wasn’t ready to change them completely.

“Of course,” she said, then painted on a cheery smile. “So tell me, Mr. Evans, since you’re six hours ahead, what will I say when you turn up at my doorstep tomorrow evening?”

If she believed in horoscopes, maybe she’d believe him as well.

“You’re going to tell me that you missed me, too,” he said.

“Good night, Tin Man.”

He nodded.

“Good morning, Dorothy.”