The

Suite

Life

By:

Brooke St. James

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

Copyright © 2018

Brooke St. James

All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Epilogue

Other titles available from Brooke St. James:

Another Shot:

(A Modern-Day Ruth and Boaz Story)

When Lightning Strikes

Something of a Storm (All in Good Time #1)

Someone Someday (All in Good Time #2)

Finally My Forever (Meant for Me #1)

Finally My Heart's Desire (Meant for Me #2)

Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me #3)

Shot by Cupid's Arrow

Dreams of Us

Meet Me in Myrtle Beach (Hunt Family #1)

Kiss Me in Carolina (Hunt Family #2)

California's Calling (Hunt Family #3)

Back to the Beach (Hunt Family #4)

It's About Time (Hunt Family #5)

Loved Bayou (Martin Family #1)

Dear California (Martin Family #2)

My One Regret (Martin Family #3)

Broken and Beautiful (Martin Family #4)

Back to the Bayou (Martin Family #5)

Almost Christmas

JFK to Dublin (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #1)

Not Your Average Joe (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #2)

So Much for Boundaries (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #3)

Suddenly Starstruck (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #4)

Love Stung (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #5)

My American Angel (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #6)

Summer of '65 (Bishop Family #1)

Jesse's Girl (Bishop Family #2)

Maybe Memphis (Bishop Family #3)

So Happy Together (Bishop Family #4)

My Little Gypsy (Bishop Family #5)

Malibu by Moonlight (Bishop Family #6)

The Harder They Fall (Bishop Family #7)

Come Friday (Bishop Family #8)

So This is Love (Miami Stories #1)

All In (Miami Stories #2)

Something Precious (Miami Stories #3)

Chapter 1

"Good morning, Miss Stone. You're looking lovelier than ever this fine morning."

Josh rarely called me by my last name—at least, not anymore—not since I started insisting that he call me Blue. Josh was awesome. He always made me smile. I saw him every time I stayed at this hotel, which was every time I traveled to Boston, which was a few times a year. He had been working there for years.

He was smiling broadly as he greeted me.

It seemed really professional and sincere. Not that he wasn't always like that, but he seemed even more attentive today. He was definitely more chipper than usual—especially for eight o'clock in the morning. Granted, I was completely exhausted—so maybe it was just that everyone seemed extra chipper to me.

I couldn't wait to get to my room and let my head hit the pillow. I would have no trouble falling asleep as soon as I crawled into bed.

I hadn't been home (to my house in California) in a couple of weeks. I was visiting Kate, a friend of mine from college who now lived in England. She had been asking me to come visit for about two years. I had actually been to England a time or two since she started asking, but I was in London for quick trips, and I was busy doing other things. I had to just avoid calling her.

Finally, I broke down and bought a ticket specifically for a stay with Kate. Honestly, I was glad I had. I enjoyed a long, relaxing visit to the beautiful English countryside, and it was great to catch up with a friend.

I was used to taking long trips, and this one had been a lot of fun. That wasn't the reason I was so exhausted. It was the events of the last day that had worn me out. I had been awake and in an airport or on an airplane for about twenty-four hours.

I flew from Norwich to London as planned, but my flight from London to Boston was delayed on account of severe weather. It wasn't just delayed a little, either. What I thought would be an hour-long layover ended up being more like ten. I had to fly over the Atlantic during the middle of the night instead of during the afternoon. This was pretty much a nightmare for me. I hated flying, and I was too anxious to get any rest at all. It seemed like everyone else on the plane slept, but I just couldn't.

It bothered me that I hated to fly. It was something I wished I could change about myself. I had been traveling on airplanes since I was a child, and I still got stressed every time. I never slept a wink. I just couldn’t do it. Some people were known to fall asleep when they got really anxious, but I was the opposite. I had even tried medicine to make me drowsy over the years, but that didn't work either. I loved to travel, and I tried my best to deal with my fears, but flying had always been a struggle for me.

So, my trip from England back to the States was pretty-much a nightmare. I was thankful I was stopping on the east coast for a few days so that I could recover a little before flying back to California. I knew how fortunate I was that I had the ability to take vacations and see the world, but it had been a really long day and night, and I was delirious and a little agitated when I rolled into Boston early that Saturday morning.

It was shady under the hotel awning, but the back of the car had been nice and dark, and the morning light stung my weary eyes, even from behind my dark sunglasses.

"Good morning, Josh," I returned, barely squinting through one eye while the other eye was completely closed. I knew I wasn't looking 'lovelier than ever', but I smiled at him, anyway—a smile that probably reflected my exhaustion.

Josh's hair was neatly styled and his uniform was ironed and tucked in. He was really polished looking. It seemed like he was even more put-together than normal. But, then again, maybe everyone seemed that way to me at the moment.

Josh began taking my luggage from the trunk and stacking it on a luggage cart. I had been traveling for weeks, so I had quite a lot with me—two small suitcases, a duffel bag, and my purse, which was a backpack.

The driver smiled at me as Josh retrieved the luggage from the trunk. He had driven for me and my dad the last couple of times we were in Boston, but I couldn't remember his name at the moment. I thought it might be Harry, but Henry also seemed right. I wasn't positive enough to say it.

I knew he'd be back to pick me up again at some point during my trip, and I knew my dad had also arranged for his payment and tip so I just smiled and waved at him after he closed the trunk.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome," he said with a little bow. "I hope you rest well."

I gave him a tired smile. "Me too."

Josh had already organized my bags on the luggage cart, and by the time I turned to him, he was just standing there, smiling. I let my shoulders slump dramatically, and he chuckled as he reached out and patted me on the back.

"Come on, Miss Blue, let's get you upstairs," he said as we started to walk into the lobby. "Your dad and the others checked in yesterday."

I nodded. "I was supposed to get here last night, too."

"I know," Josh said. "I asked about you when I saw your dad. He told me you were dealing with some delays overseas."

There was no stopping at the hotel front desk. Josh knew exactly where I needed to go. My dad had stayed in this hotel enough that everyone knew what room we were staying in. Josh was taking me directly to the eleventh and uppermost floor.

I would stay with my dad in one of the bedrooms of the largest penthouse suite. He and I didn't always stay in the same room when I traveled with him, but this specific suite was exceptionally large, and it would have been silly to let those extra bedrooms go to waste. Plus, it had been a few months since I had seen my dad, and I was looking forward to catching up with him.

(Perhaps I should go ahead and add, at this point, that my dad is Alec Stone.)

Yes, the Alec Stone, the front man of The Kicks and beloved rock and roll icon. He came up after greats like Mick Jagger, Jon Bon Jovi, and Steven Tyler, and was probably more famous than all of them put together. Dad had been making music for twenty-plus years, and he was still somehow relevant. His band still made records and played sold-out shows. He made appearances on talk shows and award shows, and he had even acted in some movies. (They were bit parts, but still.) He was friends with athletes, actors, musicians, politicians—basically the whole world. If someone wasn't friends with my father, they wanted to be.

My dad was a rock star, plain and simple. Literally, if you searched the phrase rock star on the internet, my dad's picture would be one of the first images to pop up.

People always asked me how it was being Alec Stone's daughter, but the truth was, I didn't have anything to compare it to. I had grown up with my dad being in the spotlight. I didn't know anything else.

My parents divorced when I was three-years-old, and my mom moved to Ventura to be closer to her parents. She took me and my older sisters with her. Dad stayed in Los Angeles. Ventura wasn't all that far, and we still saw him on a regular basis, but we flew under the radar and had a relatively normal childhood considering the fact that we were Alec Stone's daughters. I was the youngest by four years, and I had always been Dad's sidekick—traveling with him more often than my sisters did. I was now in my mid-twenties, and I still made a habit of going with him when I could.

"Is your dad playing a show?" Josh asked drawing me from my thoughts. "I forgot to ask him when I saw him yesterday. I haven't seen any billboards or anything. He did say you were only staying a few days."

I shook my head. "He's not doing a show—unless you count singing the anthem."

"The anthem? At the football game?"

I nodded. It was something Dad had done before, so Josh didn't seem that surprised.

"When's that?" Josh asked.

"Tomorrow."

"Are you tired from your trip?" he asked.

"I'm sooo exhausted," I said. "I can't sleep on planes. I'm gonna climb into that bed as soon as I get upstairs. I'm gonna fall asleep and not wake up for like ten hours—maybe twelve."

We were standing near the side of the elevator when I said that. The door had opened as we were speaking, but I didn't pay attention to the people who were getting off. I just stood close to Josh and kept my head down, staring at the tile floors and waiting for them to clear the way. A pair of leather oxfords came into my line of vision.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but hear you," a voice said.

It was a guy's voice—no doubt the same guy who belonged to the shoes. He was talking to me, but I hesitated to acknowledge him. I was devastated with exhaustion, and I was almost certain that he recognized me and just wanted to make conversation because he was a fan of my father's.

"I know Josh is taking great care of you, but I couldn’t help but hear you say you were going to try to sleep when you got to your room."

I glanced at him, and he gave me an easy smile.

"I'd be happy to get you a white noise machine," he said. "We don't have them in all of the rooms, but it always helps me rest if I have a little fan or something in the background."

I stared at him, barely even taking in the words he was saying. I was relatively sure he was offering me some kind of sleeping device, but I could not concentrate on the words that were coming out of his mouth. I didn't know if it was the exhaustion or the fact that he looked like he did.

He was not what I expected at all. He was an all-American slice of heaven—a leading man, someone you'd see on the cover of a romance novel. He had a square jaw and chin with features that were either chiseled or rounded in all the right places. He had light eyes and dark hair that was carefully combed away from his face with just enough hair product. He was clean shaven, but I could see faint patches of dark facial hair on his jaw. He was perfect and polished. The care and time he had taken on his own appearance made him seem reminiscent of times past—a day in age when men took time to get dressed and shined their shoes. He was so comforting to look at that I felt like I knew him—or at the very least like we had met before.

He grinned and held out his hand, gesturing that I could go ahead and get on the elevator. I reluctantly shifted my gaze away from him long enough to glance over and notice that Josh had already stepped into the elevator with my luggage.

"I know you're anxious to be on your way up," he said, still talking to me and not being nervous or awkward at all. "I didn't mean to stop you. I just wanted to offer that noise machine to you. I think since I can't sleep without one that everyone else needs one, too."

Josh chuckled at whatever the guy had said, and the guy's smile got even bigger, causing my heart to skip a beat. It might have stopped beating all together.

"I'm sorry, what were you asking me about?"

"A noise machine," he said, still grinning. "White noise. I love it. Or anything else you need to make you comfortable in your room." He stretched out his hands and performed a slight bow. "Anything at all. My name is Taylor, and I'm at your service."

"I'd like that noise machine, if you please, and some cookies. Chocolate chip. Something with chocolate. Anything but oatmeal raisin. Actually, oatmeal's fine if that's all you have. I can just pick around the raisins. Just any cookie. Multiple cookies, please."

He grinned. "Multiple cookies. Got it. How about milk?" he asked.

I nodded. "Please."

"Whole or skim?"

"Whole."

He smiled and gave me a nod. "Good choice. I'll have that sent up right away."

"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm having cookies for breakfast?"

He smiled at me, shaking his head. "I figure, if you say you're going to your room to sleep for twelve hours, it might be more of a midnight snack."

"That's definitely what it is," I said.

Numbly, I turned and made my way onto the elevator. Taylor leaned out, holding the door so I could get on even though Josh had his thumb on the 'open' button.

This guy, this Taylor, was impeccably dressed, and I caught a whiff of him as he reached across me to hold the door. He smelled as wonderful as he looked. His personal hygiene was irreproachable.

"Thank you," I said.

"It's my pleasure," he returned with a professional nod. "We're really happy to have you staying here with us. Just let us know if we can do anything to make you comfortable."

"I will, thanks."

"What room?" he asked as the door was closing.

"Eleven-o-one." Josh's reply came in a hurry, but he got it out before the door closed.

I knew because I heard Taylor respond with, "Thank you, Josh," before it fully closed.

I glanced at Josh with wide eyes, and Josh let out a little laugh, shaking his head a little. "That guy must looove my dad," I said.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Because. That whole bit about bringing me cookies and a white noise machine. He said he's gonna send someone up with it, but we all know he'll be the one bringing it. And he tried to act like he didn't know what room I was in."

"You mean Mr. Patterson?" Josh asked. "You think he wants to meet your dad?"

"Yeah," I said, knowing there was no other reason for him to be so overly helpful.

"I think he already met your dad," Josh said. "I'm sure of it. Plus, he didn't even know who you were when he offered you all that. He had to ask me for your room number, remember?"

"Yeah, but he was just covering, don't you think… trying to make it seem…" I trailed off when I noticed Josh shaking his head.

"I really don't think he was," he said, grinning absentmindedly and looking slightly confused even as he said it. "That's just how he is. It's crazy, I know. I've seen him act like that with every single person who comes in here. He's super nice and attentive—even to us."

"Is he the new owner or something?"

Josh shook his head. "No, but he acts like he is. That's the whole point of his philosophy, I think."

I was completely lost. "What's that even mean?" I asked.

Josh shrugged. "He's some hotel guru. He's here to help us evaluate the place. He wrote a book. He gave us all a copy. He's some expert on making hotels awesome. I don't really know all that much yet. I just met him yesterday, or I could tell you more."

"So, he's just here temporarily?" I asked.

Josh nodded. "He's here for a few days. Seeing how we operate and evaluating everything. It's like Kitchen Nightmares, only for hotels. That's what Garret said."

"Are there cameras?" I asked, looking around the elevator.

He shook his head. "Not TV cameras or anything like that. The owners just hired him to come in for a few days and tell them what he thought of the place—what they could do to improve it. I don't think it's something he does all the time. I heard him say he's consulting for two hotels while he's on the east coast—this one, and one in New York. He came in yesterday morning, and he's been all over the place, back in the kitchen, laundry, the restaurant. I even saw him down in the alley where everybody smokes… looking around… asking questions."

"Sounds kind of unnerving."

Josh shook his head. "Not really, actually. You met him, he's nice. He's cool. It seems like he's trying to help everybody. He was asking me what my goals in life were, if I liked being here, what I'd change about my job, what things would make me more comfortable at work. Everybody likes him. I don't know what he's doing, but it's like you can already feel the difference around here."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. It's hard to explain. It's like he connects everybody. He introduced me to people I'd seen here for a year and still didn't know their name."

The elevator dinged, stopping on the eleventh floor, and we stood there while the doors opened. I glanced at Josh as we started down the hall.

"So, you're saying all that cookie and white noise stuff… that wasn't just because I’m Blue Stone?"

"I really don't think he knew who you were. I mean, he probably does now that I told him you were staying in the main penthouse, but that wasn't what all the attention was about. He's just always like that."

Chapter 2

Taylor Patterson

Taylor was on day two of a four-day consulting job at The Birmingham, one of Boston's oldest and finest hotels. Yesterday, he met the staff and walked through the hotel from top to bottom.

He carried around a digital notepad with a stylus, and he would make handwritten notes about things he noticed. Periodically, he would organize his notes and make a list of priorities. When he was at his own hotel, he did this at lunch time and again at 5pm or so, but he was in a new place, and he was making note after note. He had to sit and organize his thoughts on a more regular basis.

Taylor was staying in a room on the first floor of The Birmingham, and that's where he set up his makeshift office. He could have easily reserved something bigger, nicer (in fact, the owners had insisted on it) but Taylor wanted to be down on the first floor where the action was.

He had been up and around since 5am, so in spite of it being only 8am, it was already time for him to go back to his room and organize his notes. He was planning on heading there right when he got downstairs, but he met a tired young woman in the elevator who was just checking in, and he found himself checking one last thing off of his list.

"How many cookies?" Tiffany, the head pastry chef was in the kitchen when Taylor went in there, and she was the one asking.

"Remind me how big they are," Taylor said.

Tiffany held up her gloved hand that had a cookie resting on the end of it.

"Five," Taylor said. "Just arrange them in a little circle, please."

Tiffany gave him a nod. "They just came out of the oven. They're still warm."

"Perfect. Thanks so much, Tiffany. Also, include this note with the plate, if you don't mind. Someone from room service will pick them up in just a minute. They should have milk and a little container of oil. Make sure that gets arranged on the tray, with the cookies and this note, please."

Taylor handed Tiffany a small place card with the words, "Sweet dreams!" printed in neat block letters. Next to the words was a simple drawing of a smiley face, complete with closed eyes and a few 'Zzz's' coming out of the top.

Tiffany smiled at it as she positioned it next to the plate. She couldn’t help but think what a nice touch it was. She briefly wondered why Taylor would write such a thing at 8am, but she didn't ask.

"Thanks, Tiffany," Taylor said, knocking a time or two on the counter as a way of saying goodbye. She glanced at him, and he smiled and waved as he walked away.

Taylor needed to get back to his office but he decided to go into the lobby first. "Hey, Josh. You're just the man I was looking for," he said. He looked around, gauging their busyness at the door. "I'm headed to my room. Once Garret gets back, do you think you could come by there and talk to me for a few minutes?"

"Sure," Josh said with a smile and nod. He felt slightly nervous, but he could tell by Taylor's countenance that he wasn't upset.

"You know which room I'm in, right?"

Josh nodded. "Yes sir."

It was five minutes later when Josh knocked on Taylor's room.

"It's open!" Taylor called.

Josh walked in to find Taylor sitting at the desk with a laptop and stacks of paper everywhere. He had been in the room before, but that was yesterday, and Taylor had done quite a bit of moving in since then. He had a larger desk brought in… or maybe it was just a second desk or piece of furniture placed next to the other desk. It was so covered with stacks of paper that Josh couldn't tell. There was also a professional office chair. This was not the desk and chair combination that were normally in the rooms; and there was stuff everywhere—papers and pictures.

Josh tried not to stare at the organized chaos as Taylor stood up and shook his hand.

"Thanks for coming," Taylor said. He gestured around him. "Please excuse all this. I had to come back here and get some things organized, but I wanted to tell you something while I was thinking about it."

"All right," Josh said, nodding with a curious smile.

"The young woman who you showed up to the penthouse a few minutes ago…" Taylor paused, and Josh nodded. "I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for how you were with her."

Josh tilted his head curiously, wondering what Taylor was talking about.

"She trusted you," Taylor explained. "I could tell by her body language that she liked you—respected and trusted you. I just wanted to thank you for that. That's exactly what we're shooting for. Personal connection, you know?"

Josh nodded. "Miss Blue's awesome. They stay here quite a bit because Mr. Stone really likes the Patriots."

"I met Alec and his assistants yesterday," Taylor said, nodding. "He's a really cool guy." He shrugged. "I didn't know he was expecting a lady friend."

Josh grinned and chuckled at that. "You mean Blue?"

"Is that her first name?" Taylor asked. "Blue?"

Josh nodded.

"The young woman on the elevator?"

"Yes sir. Miss Blue is Alec Stone's daughter."

Taylor flashed back to a magazine he had seen on the newsstand years before. "I remember seeing something about him having daughters."

Josh nodded. "Blue's got two older sisters. Violet's the oldest, then Indigo. Blue's the baby. She's the main one who travels with her dad. The other two have only stayed here a time or two. One's an actress and the other one's married with a family."

"I think I know some of this," Taylor said, nodding.

He couldn't avoid hearing tidbits of entertainment news over the years, and some of what Josh was saying seemed familiar. He racked his brain trying to remember that photo on the newsstand. He thought he remembered seeing the girls on the cover with their dad. He was trying to recall the photograph when Josh spoke again, drawing him from his thoughts. "Thank goodness they didn’t have another daughter, or they would have had to name her Green."

Taylor had already thought of that when he first heard the rainbow-theme names of Blue and her sisters. "They could call her Verde." Taylor was quick with that reply since it was a chain of thoughts that had already crossed his mind.

Josh laughed. "Ha! That's good. Verde." He was still smiling as he shook his head and pointed at Taylor. "It's really funny that you thought Blue was Mr. Stone's date."

"Obviously, don't tell either of them I said that," Taylor said.

"I would never," Josh promised. "But it's funny. She thought you were just being so nice to her because you knew who she was."

"She said that?"

Josh nodded. "She just said you must really like her dad if you were so anxious to take up a white noise machine and everything. She's used to people trying to get a glimpse of her dad any way they can. She assumed you were offering all that stuff because you wanted to take it up to their room."

"I'm sure that kind of thing happens to her all the time," Taylor said.

"All the time," Josh agreed.

"I take it you encountered her before today…" Taylor knew the answer, but he was trying to draw more out of Josh.

"Yes sir. Like I said, she travels with her dad quite a bit. They like to come to football games sometimes. He doesn't sing the anthem every time, but he's singing it tomorrow. Blue told me that. She's awesome. So sweet and down to earth."

"I have to admit, I'm glad I was wrong in assuming she was something else to Alec Stone. She's so young. But I've definitely seen stranger things, working in a hotel."

"Oh, me too," Josh said grinning and shaking his head. "And, you can't put anything past rock stars."

Taylor thought of the young woman he encountered in the elevator. He had so much on his mind when he saw her that he had a hard time remembering her features. He recalled her being in the category of young and beautiful, but he couldn’t remember what color eyes she had or what she was wearing. He knew she had dark hair.

"Anyway," Taylor said, snapping himself out of his daydream. "I just wanted to get you to come in here and talk to me while I was thinking about it. I really liked seeing how comfortable she was around you. I can tell you were making her feel at home here, and that's exactly what we're going for. That's what sets us apart. So, thank you, great job."

"You're welcome," Josh said, feeling humbled by Taylor's sincerity.

Taylor took something out of his pocket and looked at it before handing it to Josh. It was a hundred-dollar-bill.

"What's this?"

"Money," Taylor said. "Just to say thanks and good job."

Josh instantly tried to give it back, grinning as he shook his head. "Oh, no, no sir. I can't."

"Sure, you can. It's just a tip—just a thank you. You're doing good stuff here, Josh. Just try to make all the customers feel as comfortable as you make Ms. Stone."

"Yes sir, I will," Josh said, with a huge smile. He put that money into his pocket, thinking about what perfect timing it was. He made a living wage as a doorman at The Birmingham, but he was a single dad with a young daughter who had recently started kindergarten, and he had just been wiped out by purchasing all of her supplies.

"What were you thinking?" Taylor asked, noticing the nostalgic smile on Josh's face.

Josh was taken off-guard by the question, so without thinking, he told the truth. "I was thinking about what a blessing this was. My little girl had a bunch of school supplies she needed last month." He patted his pocket and nodded thankfully, shifting and taking a step back to walk away. "Thank you, sir."

Taylor was probably the same age or younger than Josh, but Josh instinctually addressed him as 'sir'. Taylor was used to it, so he didn't think twice. "Here then," Taylor said. He reached into his pocket and handed Josh another bill.

"Oh, no, no, sir." Josh said, with a palm facing out. "I was just doing my job."

"And a great job it was." Taylor's eyes met Josh's, and without saying a word, Taylor conveyed to Josh that he wanted him to take the money. He looked him in the eye, man-to-man, and gently pushed the bill toward Josh once again. Josh reluctantly took it, and instantly Taylor gestured around him.

"I'm not paying for this room," he said. "In fact, I'm getting paid to sleep here. To top it off, everyone's trying to impress me with their cooking skills and their service. I'm single, and I never go out. I have no expenses, and it would honestly make me feel good to chip in on your little girl's school supplies. Please, it's the least I can do. I'm sure that's just a drop in the bucket, anyway."

Josh could not comprehend that this guy was giving him his own personal money, but he thought that's what he was saying.

"Oh, no, it actually helps a lot," Josh said. "But I feel bad."

"Please don't. Really. I want to."

Josh sighed. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome. Thanks for caring about your job. People like you make my work a lot easier."

Josh smiled and was almost out the door when Taylor called to him again. "What'd you say to her?" Taylor asked.

"Sir?"

"Miss Stone. What'd you tell her when she said she thought I was just being friendly because I wanted to see her dad?"

"Oh, I set her straight on that," Josh said. "I said you were that nice to all the customers."

Taylor smiled, and the two men gave each other a nod as Josh walked out, letting the door close behind him. Taylor let out a long breath. It had been such a busy morning that he needed to take a few seconds to stare at the wall and space out blankly. He had so much to think about—so many things to keep straight in his mind. There were things in the hotel that needed to be addressed sooner than later. Most of the hot water heaters needed to be adjusted, the dishwasher needed to be moved, the booking software was behind on three updates, and the list went on and on.

For whatever reason, though, all he could think about, at the moment, was the woman in the elevator and the exchange he had with her. He tried to picture her, doing his best to remember if she looked like her dad.

That made him call to mind a song called Reckless and he grinned at the thought of it. It was one of The Kick's biggest hits—a rock love ballad that Taylor used to belt in the shower when he was in middle school. He knew every single lyric of that song by heart, and he continued to smile absentmindedly as the music and lyrics came back to him easily.

His mind drifted back to the girl.

Brown. Her eyes. They were dark. She had dark eyes. He hadn't been certain about it a few minutes ago, but now he was. He remembered looking at them under the lights of the chandelier. He remembered thinking about how warm she looked—slightly cautious and tired, but warm hearted and sweet by default. Her gaze was focused and engaged, which was odd in a generation of people who were increasingly flighty and disengaged. He remembered decisively putting her in the category of people he liked.

Usually, Taylor was very good at reading people. He often knew within the first few seconds if he connected with a person or not, and Blue instantly went into the mental compartment with people he liked.

Taylor smiled when he thought about their exchange. He thought back to their conversation about cookies, and then he imagined her mentioning him to Josh once he walked away. He thought about all the times she must have been offered things by people who were just trying to get a glimpse of her dad. It gave Taylor an odd satisfaction that Josh said he treated everyone at the hotel the same.

Taylor squeezed his eyes shut when he realized he had been sitting there thinking about this girl for what must have been five minutes. He shifted in his chair and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling and rubbing his face as if to erase his thoughts and start with a clean slate.

He was just about to focus on a plan for the hot water heaters when his cell phone rang.

He had two cell phones, plus his room phone, plus email and texting. He knew by the sound of the ring that it was his 'good' cell phone, his home number, the one he always answered. It was a call from an unknown Los Angeles number, and Taylor answered right away.

"This is Taylor."

"Taylor, this is Alec Stone."

Taylor knew by the sound of the man's voice that it was indeed Alec Stone. He had given Alec his number when they met the day before, but he honestly didn't expect him to use it—not when his agent usually took care of hotel business.

"Yes, sir. Good morning. I hope you rested well."

"I did. I always sleep the best on these pillows. I'm gonna take a couple with me when I go—as long as I have room in my luggage. You can just charge them to my room."

"Absolutely. If you'd like new ones, I can arrange them to be brought up… or, better yet, we can just ship them to your house. I believe we use two different kinds here. I'll have to find out which ones you like."

"It's the flat ones," Alec said.

"Ah, yes. I know exactly which ones you mean. Well, I'll send a couple of new ones to your room. If they're still there when you check out, I'll assume you didn't have room for them, and I'll have them shipped to you."

"Thank you," Alec said. "You're the man."

"I try to be," Taylor said with a smile that could be heard in his voice. "Sometimes, I just smile and fake it a little bit."

Alec laughed. "I'm glad I'm not the only one," he said. "Hey, that's not why I called, though."

"It's not?"

"No, I didn't call to tell you about the pillows. I just thought about them when you picked up the phone, and I wanted to mention it."

"Oh, okay. What else can I help you with?"

"My baby girl," Alec said. "She just arrived from London."

"Yes, sir. I believe I had the pleasure of meeting her in the elevator a few minutes ago."

Chapter 3

Blue

Within moments of getting to my room, an attendant showed up with a tray full of goodies. I set it aside, feeling only a little disappointed that it hadn't been Taylor who brought it up.

My dad must have heard our exchange from his bedroom because he began stirring. He yelled for me to come to his room, which was still really dark. He turned on the lamp and asked me to crack the window. I did as he asked, squinting as light came spilling into the dark room. Dad threw his covers off, stretching his pajama-clad leg out of the comforter and all the way across the bed. He motioned for me to come to him, and I fell onto the bed beside him, causing him to laugh and tickle me. This got us both laughing.

"You smell good," he said. "Like the airport."

"Oh, thanks a lot, Dad."

"What? Airports smell good."

"No, they don't." I sat up, smelling my own armpit as my dad swung his legs around the edge of the bed so that he could sit next to me. "I just met a hot guy in the lobby, and I look and smell like a big hot mess."

"You met someone in this lobby? This hotel?" He asked sleepily.

"Yes," I replied, looking at him seriously.

I was delirious, or I probably would have never been so frank.

Dad gave me a stunned expression like he was confused and didn't know where to begin. I never talked about guys with my dad, and I could tell he didn’t know if I was serious or joking.

"His name's Taylor," I said. "I think he works here. He's the one who had room service sent up."

"What room service?" Dad asked, craning his neck to look into the living room. "Breakfast, I hope."

"It's not," I said. "At least I don't think it is. It should be cookies. Taylor said he was sending cookies and a white noise machine. I told him I was tired and about to go to bed. Or, he overheard me saying it. Either way, he knew I was tired. He said he'd send that stuff up. I thought for sure he would bring it up here himself, but he sent someone else. That's so weird."

I must have come across as disappointed, because Dad smiled knowingly at me. "Oh, so you've got yourself all worked-up because that young man, didn’t care enough to come up here himself." My dad was obviously teasing me. He smiled and poked my ribs again when he said it. I squirmed.

"I’m not worked-up. I'm just nasty and stinky, and he was really-super handsome, that's all. He looked vintage. Like someone from the thirties."

"It's the bowtie," my dad said. "Not many people can pull that off. Most people just look goofy in one."

"But he doesn't," I said absentmindedly.

"No, he doesn't," Dad agreed. "It's his haircut, too. He's just an all-around nice looking guy."

"I know," I said longingly.

"You're smitten."

"No, I'm not," I defended weakly. "I'm just exhausted. Delirious. I'm sorry that I ran into anyone looking and feeling like this. I can't wait to get in there and go to bed. I'm gonna eat a cookie first."

Dad stretched. "I'll take a cookie if there's more than one."

I helped him up and we walked into the living room to check out what was on the tray.

There was a plate of delicious, warm chocolate chip cookies, five of them—obviously plenty for my father. There was also a glass of milk, a small gadget which I knew to be a white noise machine, and a tiny bottle of lavender oil. I couldn’t wait to use all of those things. Also, on the tray was a note that said 'sweet dreams'. It had a little doodle of a sleeping face, and the sight of it made my heart speed up. I couldn’t help but wonder if Taylor had drawn it himself. In some weird way, I hoped he had. The handwriting was neat, and the picture was cute and vulnerable and masculine.

My dad and I were sitting on the couch, eating a cookie together and talking about my trip to England when randomly, he picked up his phone and began pushing buttons.

"Taylor, this is Alec Stone," was the next sentence I heard come out of my dad's mouth, and I covered my face with my hands. I couldn’t hear Taylor on the other end, but they had a whole exchange about pillows. I thought I was going to get off with just a little scare, but things were never that boring with my father.

He informed Taylor that he hadn't really called to discuss pillows, and the next thing I knew, he was saying, "My baby girl just arrived from London."

There was a pause while Taylor said something on the other end.

My insides came alive with adrenaline when my dad brought up my name. I was so anxious to know what Taylor was saying.

"She said she met you," Dad said.

I focused on him with a warning glance, begging him not to say anything embarrassing.

He winked and smiled at me, being all casual. "We've demolished those cookies you sent, but I was hoping to get some breakfast sent up. Maybe some eggs and toast. And coffee. I definitely need coffee."

I squinted at my dad. He didn't need coffee—not from room service, at least. He knew how to work the coffee pot in the room. And besides, he shouldn't be ordering food from this guy. He stayed in hotels all the time. He knew how to call room service.

"Also, I wanted to see if you could be the one to bring it up." Dad added. "That's why I called you instead of just ordering from the kitchen."

I was horrified.

I reached out, silently fake-pounding my fist on my father's thigh, begging him to stop.

"Yes, you, personally," my dad continued. "If you've got a minute."

I could not believe my dad was doing this. First, it was just embarrassing that he was asking Taylor to come up here; he was never high-maintenance like that. And second, I was completely exhausted, travel-weary. I didn't feel confident with my appearance at all. I could feel my face turning red at the thought of that guy coming to our room. I gave my dad an anguished look.

"Twenty minutes is perfect," my dad said, smiling casually at me again. "Thanks."

He pressed the button to hang up his phone and looked at me with a satisfied grin.

"I don't know why you had to ask him to bring that up here," I said, shaking my head.

"What?" Dad said innocently. "It's not about you. I mentioned the game when I talked to him yesterday. I was gonna see if he wanted a ticket or two."

"Dad, no. I should have never even said I thought he was hot. You can't go inviting him places with us just because I said that."

"I'm not inviting him up here for you," Dad said shaking his head. "I like him. We talked for a while yesterday when we first checked in. He's a good kid. I was gonna mention the game to him before you even told me you met."

"Well, good," I said, standing up. "Then, you won't need me."

"Where you going?"

"To take a shower and then go to bed," I said. I started to pick up the white noise machine and the lavender, but I decided I wanted the remaining cookie with me when I went to my room. I opted to carry the whole tray.

My dad stood up, reaching out to hug me, and I abandoned the tray so that I could hug him back. "I'm glad you're here, Blue-Baloo."

"Me too," I said, squeezing him.

"Get some rest today, and I'll take you somewhere nice for dinner tonight. We might hook up with Mitch and Rhonda."

"What time's the game tomorrow?"

"One," dad said. "But I'm gonna head over there at about ten in the morning. You can come with me, or you can hang back and I'll send a…" He trailed off, waving at me like he was offering too much information for my tired state. "We'll talk about it later. Tonight at dinner. Go get some rest."

"Love you," I said. I picked up the tray before heading off toward my room.

"I won't tease you if you accidently need to come out here in twenty minutes or so," Dad called, making me turn and smile at him from over my shoulder.

He shrugged. "You know, for a glass of water, or whatever."

"You're funny," I said, shaking my head.

"What? You've never told me you were interested in a guy before. You're my baby girl. I want you to have what you want."

"I'm not interested in that guy," I said. "I just said he was nice-looking and it's a shame that I looked and smelled like a homeless person when I met him, that's all."

"Karen said he's famous," Dad said. "She said she saw a cardboard cut-out of him standing beside a display of his books at the airport bookstore."

"Josh said something about him writing a book," I said with a little nod. "Love you," I called as I disappeared into my room.

"Love you!" I heard him yell from the other room.

I was a grown woman, twenty-five years old. I had gotten by this long without including my father in my love life, and I didn't intend to change that. I had introduced him to a few guys I dated over the years, but never, ever, had I discussed my feelings or attraction toward a guy. I should have known he would take action. But how was I to know he would have the guy's number? Plus, I was too tired and out-of-it to think straight, anyway. I never would have told my dad I had seen a "hot guy" if I wasn't so delirious from exhaustion. I hadn't even said the word 'hot' in years, unless I was talking about actual temperature.

I took a long shower. Thoughts streamed through my mind as the warm water washed over my body. One of the things I loved most about this hotel was the shower. It was one of those with multiple jets. It felt great on a regular day, but today, on a day when I was superbly exhausted, it felt a little like heaven. I nearly fell asleep as I stood there, thinking and letting the warm water hit my body.

I thought about the last twenty-four hours—different things that had happened to me at the airport and on flights. My thoughts jumped to this morning, this hotel, more specifically, the guy from the elevator. I started thinking about my dad calling him and asking him to come to our room, and I began combing the conditioner through my hair just to have something to do with my hands.

I had no idea how long I had been in the shower. I could have been in there for twenty or thirty minutes. If Taylor had come up to bring my dad's breakfast, he would likely be gone by the time I went in there… if I went in there at all.

My thoughts continued to swirl dazedly as I finished getting cleaned up. I towel dried my hair before plugging in the electric hair-dryer. I didn't feel like standing there and drying my hair, but I hated sleeping with it wet, so it was my only choice.

By the time I finished with everything, I felt a million times better. I was still exhausted, but there was something to be said for feeling clean and knowing you had a comfortable bed waiting for you.

I was so content that I decided to go into the living room. It had been at least a half-hour since I went back there, so I was pretty sure Taylor had come and gone. I was wearing pajamas when I made my way out there.

"He literally just walked out the door," my dad said as soon as he caught sight of me.

"I didn't come out here for that," I said, walking toward the kitchen. "I came to get a drink of water before I go to bed."

"Oh, yeah right," dad said.

He was sitting in the kitchen, eating the breakfast Taylor had brought up, and I walked around him to get a glass for water.

"There's bottled water in the fridge," Dad said, glancing over his shoulder. "And he's coming to the game tomorrow," he added.

"Who, him? Taylor?"

"Yeah, Taylor."

"Did you give him a ticket to the suite?"

Dad nodded as he chewed. "He might have to leave before the game's over. He said he's got four days to do about a month's worth of work at this hotel, but he just couldn't imagine a world where he didn’t make time to see a little football—especially if his new friend was going to sing the national anthem." Dad smiled at me proudly. "He called me his new friend."

"Does he even listen to your music?" I asked. "He seems like he would listen to jazz or something like that."

Dad smiled. "He sang some Reckless for me."

"No, he did not."

"Yes, he did. He played air guitar and everything."

"Just now?"

"Just now," Dad, said with a mouth full of food.

I felt disappointed that I hadn't made it out in time to see him. I thought I should be happy that I avoided him, but really, I was sorry he wasn't there—sorry I had missed his air guitar.

"He was up here for a while," Dad said. "I was asking him about his book. He asked me about you."

"Me?" I asked, putting a hand to my chest. "He asked about me? Me specifically? Blue? What'd he say?"

My dad's eyes got wide. "Oh my gosh, Blue, you like this guy."

"No, I don't. I just didn't… you didn't mention that he was asking about me. You should have opened with that. What'd he ask? What'd he say?"

"He asked if you were resting. He asked what you did and where you lived. All my girls," Dad said. "He was asking about my family. Where y'all lived and your ages and everything. We had a good talk. He was here for a good while. I thought for sure you'd come out."

"What'd he say about his book?" I asked.

"That it's been a big whirlwind and he never expected it to take off like it did."

"I thought he was a hotel guy."

"He is," Dad said.

"How are so many people interested in reading about hotels?"

"His book's about more than just hotels," my dad said.

"Is it a novel or something?"

"No, but it's not just hotels, either. He's got philosophies about work ethic and hospitality. He's one of those young revolutionaries. He came from nothing, and he's about to open his own place. Can you imagine that? Not even thirty years old, and he goes from working at a hotel to owning one?"

Chapter 4

I slept until four o'clock that afternoon.

I didn't want my internal clock to get too out of whack, so I set an alarm and made myself wake up. Seven hours seemed more like three seconds. It felt like I had nowhere near enough sleep when my alarm went off. I was tired to the point of feeling drugged, and I ended up hitting the snooze button twice before I mustered up the strength to open my eyes and shift to sit upright.

It was 4:18 when I did that, and I stared at the clock, blinking at it in disbelief before numbly rubbing my face. I took the next few minutes to stretch and get out of bed slowly.

My stomach rumbled. I was so off-schedule that it seemed impossible to remember my last decent meal. Those chocolate chip cookies I ate before I fell asleep weren't cutting it. I was starving, and I knew my dad well enough to know we'd be eating a late dinner. There was only one thing to do. I went to the plate, and broke off a piece of the remaining cookie before popping it into my mouth. I was only planning on eating a piece of it, but I wound up eating the whole thing. It tasted even better now than it did when it was first delivered, and I made tiny audible sounds of approval as I chewed and swallowed each delectable bite.

I took my phone from the bedside table while I was still working on finishing the cookie. I had several missed texts. My mom and my sisters were among the people who messaged me, but the last one was from my dad. I clicked on it.

Dad: "I'm leaving soon. Going to Mitch's. I didn't want to wake you. Call me when you're ready and I'll send a driver. We'll have dinner at their house at 8. Hope you join us."

I thought about it for a minute. I figured I'd need an hour or so get dressed. I decided to message my dad back and let him know I'd be ready to go at 6. I liked Mitch and Rhonda, and I thought it would be fun to catch up with them before dinner. Mitch was a music producer and long-time friend of my father's. He and Rhonda had a beautiful home with cool, fun things like a vintage PacMan arcade machine. They even had that golf game—the one with the roller ball that you had to spin with your hand. I was always really comfortable at their house.

I was in the middle of typing out a message to my dad when he called. My phone scared me when it began ringing in my hand, and it took me a second to grasp it correctly so that I could answer the call.

"Hello?"

"You up?"

"Yes sir."

"Good morning, sunshine."

"Morning."

"You should drink some coffee."

"Don't worry, I will," I said. "I just woke up a few minutes ago. I was just reading your text."

"I'm at Mitch's. You gotta get over here and see what Mitch did in his basement."

"A mechanical bull?"

My dad laughed. "She asked if you put in a mechanical bull," Dad said, laughing with someone on the other end. "Bowling," he said, speaking to me again.

"Like a bowling alley?"

"Two lanes, but yeah, they're full size and everything. It's fun. You gotta get over here and check it out."

"I was gonna ask if you could send someone at six."

"That sounds great," he said. "I'll tell Karen to arrange it with Harry, and he'll be there."

"Thank you," I said.

I spent the next hour getting dressed.

I was only going to be in Boston for three nights (wait… two nights now). Either way, I didn't bother unpacking. I just set my luggage out, figuring I could dig through my bags when I needed something. I basically went with the clothes that were on top of the stack.

I wore light colored jeans with some small holes down the front, and a black off-the-shoulder sweater layered with a white and red striped tank. You could clearly see my shoulder, and I considered that the stripes might be too much, too Parisian, but I decided after staring in the mirror that I was comfortable in it, and that was the most important thing.

I put on a pair of black flats. I chose a pair that had leather bottoms since I thought we might bowl and I didn't know what the bowling-shoe situation was.

I was low maintenance when it came to doing my hair and makeup, but I took my time, freshening up my waves with a curling iron. I pulled one side of my hair back and pinned it in place with a clip. On the clip was a red satin flower, so I took my time straightening and pinning it as I regarded myself in the mirror.

I usually just opted for powder and mascara, but tonight I wore a light layer of foundation and a little eyeliner. It definitely wasn't a lot of makeup, but I did apply slightly more than usual. I told myself that it wasn't because I thought I might run into the hotel guy on my way out, but that simply wasn't true. I had looked so very bad when we met that I wanted to redeem myself. I wanted to be clean, and fresh, and smelling good the next time I saw him.

I hoped that would be tonight.

In a perfect world, I'd see him briefly on my way through the lobby, and I'd say something funny and clever that would make him laugh. We would share a fleeting moment of light-hearted banter, and he would realize I didn't smell or look so bad after all. I had to laugh at myself for even thinking such a thing.

It was time for me to get going.

The driver would be there soon.

My dad had said the driver's name last time I talked to him, but I still had a mental block with it. It was either Henry or Harry, I was never confident about which. I was usually pretty good at remembering names, but certain names were hard for me. Like our handyman back home who had been coming to our house doing odd jobs for us since I was a teenager. His name was either Kirk or Kurt. A few times, when we first met, I had asked him which one, and he had clarified, but I still managed to forget. I had perfected the art of saying his name where either one could be right. So, the driver (who I thought of as Henry but didn't say out loud) would be here in ten minutes.

Karen, my dad's assistant, was sitting in the main room of our suite when I went out there. I didn't see Nick at first, but when I glanced around the room, I saw him sitting there as well. Nick was my dad's friend and also the muscle of the operation.

Karen and Nick had their own rooms, but they often hung out in my dad's room when he wasn't around. Karen was sitting at the table and Nick was on the couch, holding a remote and staring at the television. I was not at all surprised to see them in my dad's room. Depending on the trip, one or more of Dad's tough-guy friends would travel with us so that Dad didn’t get hassled. I looked around, wondering if it was just the two of them or if anyone else came.

"Your driver should be here any minute," Karen said.

"Thanks," I said with a nod. I glanced around the room. "Are you the only ones here?" I asked.

"Yep, me and Nick."

"Hey Blue-Buffalo," Nick said, turning to wave at me.

I was a nickname collector.

My dad had started it long ago, and others had caught on over the years. They attached whatever they wanted to the end of my first name.

Usually, it started with a "B" but not always.

Blue-Bells

Blue-Button

Blue-Bayou

Blue-Cheese

Blue-Bottom

Blue-Bird

Blue-Bug

Blue-Suede Shoes

My name was ever changing.

There were only so many catchy options, so the same ones got used over and over. Sometimes, a name would catch on for a while if the person saying it thought it was particularly funny.

Blue-Buffalo was one of Nick's favorites.

He'd been calling me that off and on since the brand came out. I could just tell by his satisfied smile that it still cracked him up.

"Hey Nick," I returned.

"Are you coming with me to Mitch's?"

Nick shook his head. "Your dad said I could just hang here with Karen. We just called for some delivery. Chinese."

"Oh, okay," I said.

"Did you catch up on your sleep?" Karen asked.

I came to stand in the kitchen, closer to her.

"I feel better," I said. "But I'm still a little out-of-it. Like I'm turned upside down. It feels like it's about three in the morning."

"Why don't you drink some coffee?" she asked.

I thought that was a splendid idea. I had planned on doing that when I first woke up and had just forgotten. "I guess I'll head downstairs," I said. "I'll hit that café in the lobby on my way out."

Nick asked me if I wanted him to make a cup for me in the room, but I thanked him and told him I'd just buy a cup of the strong stuff on my way out. I said my goodbyes to the two of them and headed downstairs.

I would have been lying if I said I wasn't disappointed when I got downstairs didn't see the handsome hotel manager anywhere. I had worked myself up to thinking that he would be randomly standing at the elevator doors when I arrived on the first floor, but he wasn't. He wasn't in the lobby, either. Nor was he in the café. I stood in line behind one other lady before stepping up to the counter to order.

I could usually tell when someone knew who I was, and the girl taking my order didn’t seem to know or care. I ordered a medium coffee with room for cream.

"For here or to go?" she asked.

"To go, please, Jennifer."

I knew who had said it before I even turned.

It was Taylor.

I turned to find that he had walked up from behind me and was now standing directly beside me. He was taller than me, so I found myself looking up.

"Right?" he asked, looking down at me with a little smile. He gestured behind him with his thumb. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to decide for you, but the driver's here, so I just figured you were taking it with you."

"No, I am, I was, I am. To-go, please," I said, talking to Jennifer but not taking my eyes off of him.

Taylor unabashedly stared me straight in the eyes. I blinked. His eyes were grey-ish green, soft and warm, like misty sage.

"You look, um… rested," he said. He hesitated somewhat like he was searching for the right word.

"Thank you," I said with a smile and a little bow. "I got a pretty long nap just now."

I looked around us, at the café which opened up into the hotel lobby. It felt weird that it was the same day that I had come in. Taylor had changed clothes, which added to the feeling that it was a completely different day.

"Are you still working?" I asked.

"Yes and no," he said. He reached out for my coffee. "Did you want anything else?" I shook my head, and he pulled a bill out of his pocket and handed it to the clerk. "Thanks," he said to her before beginning to walk toward the condiment table. He assumed I would follow, which I did. "The answer to your question is that, technically, I'm not working. I have some work to do later tonight, but right now, I'm taking a little break for dinner."

"Everyone needs to eat." I said. I cringed inwardly and hoping that wasn't my big funny moment.

Taylor set my cup onto the table, and I began adding sugar and cream.

I had lived an eventful life. I had a lot of experience under my belt for such a young person. This gave me a certain level of confidence. Usually, I was friendly with people and had no trouble making conversation. My dad would say I was quick as a whip and funny, too. I don't know if I'd go that far, but I had no trouble getting along with people in my life.

I lost my chops with this guy, though. He was distractingly handsome, and he had social presence that turned heads and demanded respect. He rendered me tongue-tied and nervous, which was a rare feeling for someone who was usually numb to the charms of fame and fortune.

"Your dad said you were an investor," Taylor said.

I had been looking at my coffee as I stirred it, but I glanced at Taylor and nodded thoughtfully when he said that.

"Dad has called me that for a long time, and I always took it as a joke or thought he was teasing me, but I guess it's true. Yes, I am." I smiled and took a quick but deep breath. "I guess I can call myself an investor by now." I stuck my hand out and Taylor smiled warmly as he shook it. "But mostly, I'm just Blue."

Taylor's handshake was gentle but firm, and he stared right into my eyes, smiling at me.

"Mostly I'm Taylor," he said, causing me to become breathless. I took short, panting, uneven breaths as I pulled back and glanced away.

He began walking toward the door, and I followed since that was where I was headed. He had already mentioned that my driver was waiting, so I knew he knew where I was going.

"Why'd you think your dad was teasing you about making investments?" Taylor asked as we walked.

"He wasn't," I said. "He was serious. He took me completely serious from the beginning. I was just insecure about it. My dad's the one who got me started. He gave me money to invest. It's not like I started from nothing."

"But you're doing it on your own now," Taylor assumed.

I nodded. "I still can't believe I get to do that for a job. I can buy cool ideas and make money at it. It's hard for me to think of it as work."

"He said you were in on Bitcoin before that whole thing took off."

I smiled. "I was," I said, nodding. "That was fun."

I wanted to ask him about his job—about his book, but we drew ever closer to the front door, and I felt rushed and out of breath.

"I just try to figure out what kids want," I said, shrugging. "They really control the market. I try to hop on trends before they become trends."

"I think that's what all investors are supposed to do, when you think about it," Taylor said.

I nodded.

"You just use a more organic approach."

I laughed. "If organic is what you call it when I accidently pick winners, then…"

"You shouldn't be so humble," he said, glancing downward at me. He had opened the front door, and he said the words just as I walked past him. I looked up at him, and his face slowly shifted to a smile. "I don't think there's anything accidental about the success you've had."

"How do you know what success I've had."

"Your dad told me," he said.

I started walking again, and he followed me outside. We walked toward the car together. I wanted to say something funny—maybe about my dad, or my job, or his job, but I was nervous and therefore nothing seemed like a suitable option. I settled for silence.

It was a beautiful fall afternoon, and I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with cool air. I couldn't help but wonder what my dad had said to Taylor. I shot a smile in his direction and he returned it before looking at my driver.

I stared at his profile. I tried not to gawk. He was dressed in jeans and a thin, fitted burgundy sweater with a plaid, button-down shirt underneath. He was casual but sharp, and I couldn’t stop myself from scanning his appearance as we stood on the sidewalk.

"How are you, Harry?" Taylor asked.

"I'm great, Mr. Patterson, how are you?"

"Better than ever," Taylor said. "I think I'm gonna have some fun tonight."

I felt an unwarranted pang of jealousy when he said that.

"Well, that sounds like a plan to me," Harry said, beaming at Taylor before focusing on me with his head tilted.

"And you, Miss Stone, do you plan on having some fun tonight as well."

I shrugged. "Well, maybe not as much fun as Taylor here," I said.

"Ouch," Taylor said, smiling as he cringed. He put his fist to his chest as if there was a knife in his heart.

Harry held the door open, but I didn't notice him because I was too confused by Taylor's reaction.

Chapter 5

"Why'd you do that?" I asked, with a curious glance aimed at Taylor.

"Why'd I do what?" Taylor asked.

"Say ouch. Act hurt like that."

"Because you made it seem like he was gonna have a lot more fun than you tonight," Harry said, chiming in.

I glanced at him and then back at Taylor.

"You're the one who said you were about to go have a bunch of fun," I said to Taylor.

"I still think I am," Taylor said, looking at me with a cautious smile. "I hope I am."

I nodded. "All I was saying was that I probably wouldn't have as much fun as you," I explained.

This made Taylor's smile change. He stared at me almost hopelessly as if there was some kind of big misunderstanding. "That's why I said, 'ouch'," he said.

I smiled distractedly and shook my head as I stared at him. He was so dashing, and I was so swept up by it all that I was literally unable to understand the words that were coming out of his mouth. I knew he was a smart, competent person, so I figured I was the one who was confused in this scenario. The afternoon sun shone into his green eyes, revealing their gold hues. For a second, I got lost looking at them.

"I think she has no idea you're going to the same place," Harry said, seeing Taylor and I stare at each other in quiet confusion.

Taylor tilted his head at me, but it took a few seconds for me to comprehend what Harry had said. My eyes were locked with Taylor's as I put a hand to my chest.

"I didn't… did he say… are you… are you coming with me?"

Taylor's face fell to a mask of utter disbelief. "Is this the first you're hearing about this?" He glanced into the hotel and then back at me as if genuinely confused.

"Yes," I said. "Are you seriously coming with me?"

He nodded. "If that's okay with you," he said.

"To Mitch's house?"

He nodded again and gestured toward the hotel. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew when I said I was going to dinner… I thought your dad would have told you. I can tell by the look on your face that this is the first you're hearing about any of this…" he said the last line in a slow, measured, reluctant tone. "I am so sorry this is taking you off guard right now," he added. "I could just—"

"No, no, no," I said. "I'm just… I had no idea you were… did my dad invite you?" I asked.

His face fell, and he regarded me with a serious expression as he shook his head. "No. He has no idea I'm coming. I just saw you there in the café and figured I'd go wherever you're going."

My head tilted slightly as I squinted, giving him a skeptical glance.

He smiled. "Your dad invited me," he said. "But I assumed he okayed it with you. I'm sorry you didn’t know anything about it. I should have made sure you knew. I just assumed…"

"I'm glad you're coming," I said. I shrugged nervously. "I mean… for dinner. Everyone needs to eat, right?" I knew I sounded nervous, so I made myself stop talking.

Taylor grinned casually as he put a hand on the back of my arm. He gestured with his other hand for me to go ahead of him into the car, and when he did, Harry bowed as well. The skin on my arm came alive when he touched me, but I broke contact almost instantly, stepping toward the curb.

The temperature in the backseat was warm compared to the outside air, but the leather seats were cool to the touch, and my skin tingled as I climbed inside. I had ridden in this backseat once already this morning, but the experience was completely different now that Taylor was climbing into it with me. I scooted to the center, making room for Taylor to sit next to me. I thought about stopping there rather than continuing to the far edge. The middle seat was spacious. It wasn't like I would be cramming myself into it. I wanted to stay there, but I was too nervous. I scooted to the seat on the far side and stashed my coffee so that I could work on buckling my seatbelt.

As I did all of this, Taylor climbed into the backseat. He situated in his seat and then sighed as he glanced at me with a grin. I could not believe he was going to Mitch's with me. I could not believe Dad hadn't told me. I had imagined myself casually running into Taylor in the lobby. I certainly hadn't pictured him climbing into the backseat with me.

I had seen a lot of handsome men in my life, but this guy… he had something more than looks. He had that certain something—the 'it' factor.

He wasn't just handsome.

He was brilliant. He had the type of brilliance you could see in his physical appearance. I felt nervous and overwhelmed by his proximity. I took a sip of my coffee, thankful for the distraction.

"How long are you staying in Boston?" he asked. "I mean, I know you'll only be at our hotel through tomorrow night; I just didn't know if you… I didn't know where you were headed after that."

"Back home to California," I said. I smiled at him. "I thought you were just working at The Birmingham for a few days."

"I am."

"Why'd you call it our hotel? Are you buying it or something?"

"No, no. I just think of it as mine. That's how my mind works. That's how I'm able to do what I do." He gave me a humble grin. "I bet that doesn't make a whole lot of sense. I take ownership in my mind, basically. It helps me see things more clearly. Prioritize."

"I get that," I said, nodding. "You just pretend The Birmingham is your baby while you're here."

"Exactly. I treat her like she's mine."

"My dad said he thought you were opening a hotel of your own."

"I am," Taylor said. "That one really is my baby. I'm pretty pumped about it. It's a dream come true."

"What made you want to do that? Open a hotel."

He shrugged. "I don't know anything else. I grew up in a hotel, basically. They're like home to me."

"Did your parents own one or something?"

He let out a little laugh. "Hardly. My dad was a hotel maintenance man. He had some problems, so he worked at about ten different properties over the years. I'm the oldest in the family, so I went to work with him a lot while my mom had my little brother. I got to see the underbelly of those hotels. I took mental notes about things I saw. All I did was watch and listen. I kept thinking if I could only open my own place one day, I'd be the one who could do it right. I'd be the one who doesn't make all those mistakes."

"So, you just decided to do it and you did it?" I asked. "Just worked for your dream and got it?"

"That's the short story," he said with a nod. "There was a lot of planning, and working, and failure, and pitfalls in the process, but yes, I did it. I'm opening a hotel of my own. It's humbling to even say that. I feel like you said earlier, like I can't believe I could figure out a way to make money doing what I do. I have people pay money to come over and stay at my house, basically. I get to meet new people all the time."

"You called it your house," I said.

"It is my house," he said. "That's what I was saying about how I operate. One of the penthouses is my personal apartment. I literally live there. It's the whole idea behind my hospitality philosophy. I'm the man of the house. I welcome our guests and I care about their comfort just as if they were staying at my house." He smiled. "Of course, I don't give them keys to my room or anything."

"Of course not," I said. "What's the name of it?"

"Patterson Place."

"Is that something people do? Live in their own hotel?"

"I don't think so," he said. "I don't know. On a smaller scale, for sure. You know, like a bed and breakfast."

"Are your customers gonna know you live there?"

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not going to advertise it that way or anything. But they'll feel the difference with me taking pride and ownership. It even filters down to my staff. They're able to tell that someone really cares. It's not necessary to live onsite, but I've always done it that way."

"Do you mean you've lived in a hotel before this one you're about to open?"

He let out a little chuckle. "Yes. All of my adult life, I've lived in one. I started working when I was sixteen, and by the time I turned eighteen, I was living at the place. Before long, I was managing the night shift. We sorted it out where part of my salary was free room and board. That was nine years ago."

"And now you're buying a hotel of your own?"

He nodded. "I am."

"You think you're ready for that?"

His face shifted to an irresistible, confident grin. "I was born ready," he said.

"So, you're building yourself a big house with a bunch of guest bedrooms, and you'll rent them out to people by the night?"

He let out a little laugh. "That's precisely what I'm doing. I really do feel that way. I love going down to the lobby to see who's checking in, who's staying with me."

I thought to myself that with those looks, he would definitely have lots of women staying there. "How many rooms?"

"Forty-one. Forty-two, counting my place. It's the perfect amount for me to manage and really keep it running how I like it. There are two penthouses on the eighth floor. The guest suite is the mirror image of mine with just a few minor differences."

"Is it a new structure?"

"Yes. The previous building was a three-story shopping center, but it had seen it's better days. Some of the stores had closed. I got a good price on it considering the real estate in that area is crazy." He grinned. "We had to do some serious renovations to expand it to eight stories, so it's a good thing I had a visionary for an investor."

"I would invest in you," I said. "I've only known you for five minutes, and I already want to come stay at your place. Patterson Place. I'll have to remember that. Is it here in Boston?"

"No, California, actually. I'm just here visiting like you."

I wondered absentmindedly if I already knew that piece of information. I felt like I knew in the back of my mind that he wasn't from Boston, but I had no idea he was from California.

"Where abouts in California?" I asked.

"Beverly Hills," he said. "What about you?"

I laughed. "I guess the real estate is crazy. I'm from Ventura. I was born in L.A. My dad still lives over there, so I'm there quite a bit, but I mainly stay with my mom in Ventura. I could move out, but she's got room, and I travel a lot. I like seeing her when I'm in town."

"I rarely travel," Taylor said.

I smiled. "You're traveling right now."

"I am. I left my job a month ago to go ahead and go full-time on the new place—oversee the finishing touches. I have a couple of trips planned between now and the first of the year. I wrote a book, and I've got to do some promotion for that and a few of these consulting gigs. I enjoy my experience when I travel, but I'm a homebody. I'm more accustomed to entertaining others when they travel. I hear their stories while sitting in my own living room."

"Do you actually sit and have conversations with these people?"

"Yes, I do," he said. "Most nights, I eat dinner in the hotel restaurant—somewhere real approachable, like up at the bar. Sometimes, I'll ask one of the hotel staff to join me so that we can talk. People know I do it, and they know I don't mind being approached. I usually hang out from about 7 to 8:30. It's not set in stone, but I try to make a casual appearance most nights. Most of my guests are repeat people who I've gotten to be friends with over the years. Locals come in to eat at the restaurant and see what's going on. It's always really busy. "

"What's the other hotel gonna do now that you're not there anymore? They're gonna lose all their clientele. Everyone's gonna come to your new place."

Taylor shook his head. "It's a little bit different price range," he said. "By now, with the book and everything, people are anxious to book a stay at the new place. I didn't cut corners on the construction. I oversaw the whole process. I could have opened a hotel twice the size, but I chose to do it smaller and nicer. I've only got about forty rooms, so I've paid attention to each of them individually."

"You mean they all look different?"

"Yes, they do. I mean, we bought repeats of some things, different lamps and fixtures, and my style is evident through the whole place, but yes, all the rooms are different. Each floor is different, too, as a group."

"Oh, now I really want to stay there," I said. "Which one's your favorite?"

"Which room?"

I nodded.

He grinned. "Well, mine is. I'm putting all my favorite things in there. And it has my clothes and shoes."

I squinted at him for joking around, and he smiled at me. "But, seriously, if I had to pick another favorite, I'd say the other penthouse… or the third floor. That whole floor has more of a midnight in Paris vibe."

"I can't believe you live in the same building where you work."

"Like you said, I get to make a living by having people come spend the night at my house."

I stared at him. The car windows were tinted, and it was relatively dark in the backseat, but my eyes had adjusted, and I could clearly see his light eyes as he regarded me. It seemed like a great distance between us. "That's crazy," I said, finally.

"What's crazy?"

I shrugged. "You. The fact that you live at a hotel. The fact that you're famous for it. It's just so… different. I'm amazed by all the people in the world and how different and weird you all are."

"You're weird too," he said.

"I am? How so?"

He gave me a shrug. "You're you. You're…" he trailed off, staring at me. I didn't know if he was going say something about my dad or about my appearance. I just had the feeling by the way he stared at me that he was about to say something about me and not my father, but he was choosing his words carefully. Seeing him that way made my insides all warm and gooey.

"Your dad is the king of rock-and-roll," he said with a shrug. "I think that qualifies you as weird."

"That's Elvis," I said.

"Who's Elvis?"

"The king. You said my dad was the king, but that was Elvis."

"Your dad is as big as Elvis," Taylor said.

"No, he's not. Not even close."

"You're still weird," Taylor said. "Even if your dad's not technically the king. You're not what you'd call a regular girl."

"If my dad was the king, that wouldn’t make me weird. It would make me a princess."

"You're already a princess, Blue," Taylor said. He shifted in his seat, pulling back a little and regarding me. He scanned my face, wearing a serious, thoughtful expression. "You're precisely a princess. That's exactly how I would describe you. And not in a spoiled way, but in…. I don't know… in the best way possible."

Chapter 6

Taylor had said I reminded him of a princess on our way to Mitch's, and he meant it for all the right reasons. He regarded me with admiration, intrigue, sincerity, and maybe even a little confusion.

"Name one thing you like to do besides work and travel," he said, studying me.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I closed it when I realized I wanted to think about my answer. We were about halfway to Mitch's when he said that. I knew we had about fifteen or twenty more minutes of traveling, so I decided to give him the long version.

"That's hard to say," I said. "Vi and Indie knew all along what they wanted to do. Vi started acting when she was still a kid, and Indie, well, all she ever wanted was the wedding, and baby, and house. They both knew exactly what direction they were going."

"And you?" Taylor asked.

I shook my head absentmindedly. "I basically just followed my dad around. I mean, I like investing or whatever, but it's not something I think about constantly or I have whole lot of fulfillment doing. I was being serious a while ago when I said I just try to stay up on trends and buy what I think the kids are gonna want. I like being able to make money and everything, but investing is definitely not something I dreamed of doing when I was younger. The truth is, I don't know what I love to do. I'm still trying to figure things out. I think I like the simple moments in life rather than any big, grand event. I feel happiness when I have a cup of coffee on a rooftop, or I sit somewhere with a view, or I see a really good street performer or band. I like people-watching, too."

He nodded. "I get to people-watch all the time."

I squinted at him. "When do you ever have time to people-watch?"

He regarded me with a patient, confident smile. "I'm never in a hurry," he said. "Even if I'm in a hurry, I'm not in a hurry."

"How's that possible?" I asked.

He gave me a little shrug. "I don't know, but it is. Get to know me a little bit more, and you'll see that it's the truth."

His words were innocent, but I took them as a proposition. I wanted them to be a proposition. I wanted to get to know him. I was quiet as I considered this.

"No, sometimes I'm in a big hurry inwardly, but I rarely show it. The chef back in my old hotel used to call me Iceman. He said I never broke a sweat."

"How do you manage so many people without losing it sometimes?"

He laughed. "I fake it," he said. "I stuff it way down and just do a bunch of push-ups and sit-ups when I get home at night."

"So, your wife or girlfriend gets the worst of it once you get home..." I assumed. I smiled, reconsidering. "But then again, I guess she benefits from all the push-ups."

He stared at me, wearing a thoughtful half-grin. He knew I wanted him to say something about his existent or non-existent wife or girlfriend. I took a sip of my coffee as an excuse to break eye contact.

"How would a wife or girlfriend benefit from me doing push-ups?" he asked.

I flexed my bicep. "You know, guns," I said.

He gave me an amused grin. "You think my wife or girlfriend likes guns?"

"All girls like guns."

The whole conversation had backfired. All I wanted to know was if he had a wife or girlfriend, and he had gotten away without telling me.

"What's something you like to do?" I asked. "Besides running a hotel and push-ups."

"I like to cook," he said. "It's part of my whole desire to host people, I guess, but I love to cook. And bake. I'm not a trained chef or anything, but I'm getting better. One of these days, I'll come up with something good enough to add to the menu in my restaurant."

"I like food, too," I said. "Not cooking it, but eating it."

He laughed.

"Grilled cheese or mac-n-cheese?" I asked, wanting to know more about him.

"What about them?"

"Which one do you like best… if you had to choose."

"Grilled cheese," he said.

I nodded. "Pizza or hamburger?"

He took a sharp intake of breath, hissing through his teeth. "That's a tough question. There are so many variations of both of those."

"Regular pizza and regular hamburger," I said. "Like Domino's and In and Out."

He shook his head, contemplating. "I don’t know, hamburger, I guess. If you force me to choose with such vague perimeters."

I laughed.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Grilled cheese," I said. "Gourmet grilled cheese with parmesan cheese sprinkled into the pan and crusted on the edge of the bread."

"Where do you get such a thing?" he asked.

"My kitchen," I said. "You definitely can't go somewhere and get a grilled cheese as good as you could make it at home. That's one of those foods that's always better at home. You've gotta have fresh sourdough and really good butter—like from grass-fed cows. I've actually ordered grilled cheeses at expensive restaurants, and they're never as good as I make them."

"You just said you didn't cook," he said.

"I don't. Grilled cheese doesn't count. You can make it as gourmet as you want and it's still just a grilled cheese. Bread. Cheese. Butter. Pan."

He put his hand on his stomach. "I’m suddenly hungry for one of those."

I laughed. "Mitch and Rhonda always have really good food."

"Pizza or burgers?" he asked.

"No, usually fresh fish and stuff like that—they like Asian-inspired food."

"I wasn't asking what we're having for dinner. I was asking you what you liked, pizza or burgers."

"Oh, burgers, hands down. I really only like pizza if it's one of those different ones with white sauce or basil sauce. I'm not a big fan of tomato sauce. I don't even like tomatoes in general. I wish I did. I love pizza if it's one of those other kinds, but I'll go ahead and say burgers. For the sake of the question, burgers."

"Hamburger or cheeseburger?" he asked.

"Cheese."

"Chocolate or Vanilla?"

"Chocolate," I said without hesitation.

"What about you?"

"Cheeseburger and chocolate, too, but I'm not copying you. It's the truth."

I gave him a playful skeptical glare. "You're totally copying me," I said.

"Okay, you ask me one, then," he said.

"Comedy or action?"

"Action, but I like both," he said.

"Jazz or rock?"

"Both," he said. "I choose everything when it comes to music. I listen to just about every genre—I constantly mix it up."

"Beach house or cabin in the woods?" I asked.

"Beach house, but that's all I know."

"Would you be able to move if you wanted to, or do you feel stuck in L.A.?" I asked.

"I chose L.A.," he said. "I definitely don't feel stuck there. I could have opened a place anywhere."

"What if eventually you change your mind and want to live in the mountains in some lodge?"

"Then I'll move to the mountains and open a lodge."

"What if you just want to take a vacation, do some traveling? How would the hotel make it without you?"

"The truth is, they won't. Not for a little while, at least. It'll take a while for me to build a team and get to the point where I trust other people enough to take care of the place while I'm on vacation. Probably at least a year." He shrugged. "It's a small price to pay for running it like I want it." He paused, smiling. "It's a good thing I don’t have any vacation plans. Aside from this book stuff I'm doing right now, but that will all be over by the time I open my place."

"What's your penthouse like?"

"Amazing," he said. "It's not outrageously big or anything, but it's nice. I'm gonna be really comfortable there. I'm thankful, for sure."

"What's your favorite thing about it?"

"The outdoor space," he said. "The kitchen, my bedroom, the view, everything. I'm so happy with how it came out. There's a pool that I'll share with whoever stays in the other penthouse. We each have a private outdoor area, too, so it's not like we'll be up in each other's faces. There's a wall where they can't even see if I'm outside. No pool over there, but I don't need a private pool. I have a hot tub and a garden with a grill and tables and everything. I'm having someone else decorate. A designer—the same one who's doing the rest of the hotel. She's awesome. She's got a whole team. They're actually working on my place now. There'll be some progress when I get back from this trip."

"That's so fun," I said.

He nodded. "It is. I'm pumped."

"I'd seriously like to see it," I said. "You've got me curious."

"I'd love to show you around," he said. "You should come by. Even if it's before we open."

I finished off the last sip of my coffee.

"How was that coffee?" he said.

"Good," I said. "Not the hottest, but I did add some cream."

"Was it cooler than you're used to?" he asked, looking like a concerned manager.

I smiled. "Yes, but it's also 6pm. I'm sure they're not selling a bunch of coffee right now. I've definitely had worse in hotel cafés."

"Yeah, but that's not good enough," he said. "And it's something that's easy to fix. We can make sure we're selling hot coffee."

"Do you have a coffee pot at your new hotel yet?" I asked.

I felt shy and embarrassed after it came out. I meant to ask if he was going to have a coffee shop or just serve coffee from the kitchen, but my question came out so totally wrong. Do you have a coffee pot? Really?

He smiled and nodded, pretending it wasn't the silliest question ever. "We do," he said. "Several coffee pots, actually. A bunch of small ones for the rooms, a couple of huge ones and three espresso machines. More coffee than you can shake a stick at."

"I was just wondering if you were gonna have a café in the lobby or a restaurant or what."

"I'll have a coffee bar by the front door. There's a restaurant and bar on the first floor, too. There's coffee everywhere."

"How big?"

"Not huge. Eight floors. Forty-one guest rooms."

"Not the hotel," I said, knowing the miscommunication was my fault. "Your apartment. How big is your apartment?"

"It's two bedrooms plus a bonus room. I have an office downstairs on the first floor, so I might put some workout stuff in that room. I haven't figured it out yet. I have a little bit furniture in the place, but my designer is mostly working on my patio area right now."

"What's your book about?" I asked.

"Hospitality," he said. "Work ethic and stuff. It's kind of inspirational, self-help, I guess."

"Like Tony Robbins?"

He nodded. "Except I didn't set out for it to be that. If I had to tell someone what my job description was, I'd call myself a host. I truly love to own and operate a place where people stay when they're away from home. I like to talk to people, entertain, host, make them feel comfortable. It's pleasurable for me. The book's just sort of my thoughts on service and work and… just striving for excellence, I guess. I had no idea it would take off. It's definitely an afterthought to opening the hotel. I have no degrees in writing, or business, or hospitality even. I have no degrees at all. I finished high school, but everything after that has just been hard knocks. But that's how God is, I guess. He can use a fool to confound the wise."

"You believe in God?" I asked.

He nodded. "If I didn't, my life would look a lot different."

"How?" I asked.

He gave me a little shrug. "Trust, I guess. Trusting that there's something bigger than me. Someone who's looking out for me and can ultimately intervene on my behalf. I wouldn’t be so bold in my career if I didn't feel like I had someone on my side. I owe everything I've achieved to God."

I stared at him, wondering how he did it. It was like I could see true goodness in him. He was so handsome and his countenance was confident and serene. He was in control yet completely cool-headed. I was inexplicitly drawn to him. I figured everyone else was, too. It was, no doubt, part of his success. His hotel would prosper because people would pay just to hang out with him. Part of the appeal was simply having the chance to run into him in the lobby.

I knew because I was one of those people who would pay to do it. Even as we sat in the backseat (in Boston, in September, when the hotel wasn't even open yet) I contemplated making reservations. His presence was like soothing balm. Contentment and confidence radiated off of him. I was relatively sure that the air in his proximity was sweeter to breathe than the air that was far from him. What in the world did I just think? Did I actually contemplate the air around this guy and think to myself that it was sweeter to breathe? Holy moly. What was happening to me?

I stashed the paper coffee cup in the cup holder that was in my door, sighing as I sat back up. I stared out of the window, trying to get a hold of myself. The air being sweet? Goodness, Blue.

I pressed the button to roll down the window, cracking it just enough that cool air rushed into the backseat. I took a slow, deep breath, calming myself before rolling it back up.

Chapter 7

Taylor

Blue Stone was the most intriguing woman Taylor had ever met. He couldn’t believe the chain of events that had occurred after meeting the one and only Alec Stone, lead singer of The Kicks. Alec was awesome. In addition to being a legend in music, Taylor liked the guy and was happy to realize they had a lot in common.

It was an extremely busy time for Taylor, yet he still made time to hang out with Alec when invited. First, he had invited Taylor to a NFL game, which would take place at 1pm the following day. Then, out of nowhere, he called and asked if Taylor had dinner plans for that very night. Mitch Applegate was a music producer friend of Alec's who lived in Boston. Alec invited Taylor to dinner at Mitch's house, and Taylor agreed to go even though he was probably too busy.

Taylor was determined to accomplish what he had come to do at The Birmingham, but he would have to just stay up later or wake up earlier to make up for the time. He wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to hang out with Alec Stone.

He told himself that Alec's daughter, Blue, being there had nothing to do with it, but that was simply untrue. Alec had made it clear from the very beginning that his daughter would be at dinner. He even asked Taylor to meet her in the lobby at 6pm so that he could accompany her to Mitch's house.

He would have gone to dinner anyway, just for the chance to hang out with Alec, but the news that Blue was going had Taylor feeling pumped all afternoon. He liked that girl from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was completely exhausted when they met, yet she still had a quirky, sweet smile and he could tell just by the way she looked at him that she was real. She didn't put up a front.

Alec had asked Taylor to bring some breakfast that morning right after he met Blue, but she had already gone to her room when he brought it up. He hung out for a while, talking to Alec, and hoping Blue would emerge from her room, but she didn’t.

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing her in the coffee shop that afternoon. She was dressed in jeans with a black shirt. Her dark wavy hair was pulled back with a red flower that matched the tank top that showed at her shoulder.

He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

The unfortunate part of all of this was that he was not at a time in his life when he could start dating anyone. The next four months leading up to the opening his hotel, and the following year or so (as he worked out the kinks) would be the busiest time of his life. He knew that. He was prepared for it. He was determined and focused, and there was just no way he could let himself become distracted with trying to start a relationship with someone right in the middle of all this.

He found it difficult to remember those things after spending some time with Blue. He sat in the backseat with her on the way to dinner that night thinking he would just about do anything to continue getting to know her. He couldn't possibly start a relationship with just any old girl—with a regular girl. But, Blue wasn't regular, was she? Taylor caught himself trying to believe Blue was different than all the others—that she could somehow fit into his life without disrupting his plans. Like a relationship with her could magically be the type that helped him reach his goals rather than distracting him from them.

Taylor never had thoughts like these, he had to take a step back and evaluate his feelings. Maybe he was just attracted to her because she was Alec Stone's daughter. He tried his best to tell himself that, but he knew it wasn't the truth.

He was drawn to her in every way.

He had impulses with Blue that he had never experienced with other women. Even on dates, he never had any trouble keeping his hands to himself, but as he sat in the backseat with Blue that evening, he found it really difficult to refrain from reaching out to touch her—he wanted to hold her hand, or at least touch her hand. He hated the space between them.

They talked during the entire trip. She was effortlessly funny and real, just like he knew from his first impression. They discussed both of their jobs, which led to talking about other things. Blue was humble and approachable for someone who had grown up in her circumstance. She was born into a life of rock star status, and physically she could easily fit into that role, but instead of being showy or pretentious, she was sweet and sincere. She was strong and confident, and yet she was a little shy and vulnerable.

Taylor was swept away by the contradictions.

He was taken aback by how much he felt for her and how quickly he felt it. He had no idea if his infatuation with Blue Stone would lead to anything, but he was definitely taken with her—he had never been so intrigued by a woman.

The driver pulled up at Mitch's house.

He rolled down the glass that separated the front seat from the back as he parked in the circular driveway. "We're here," he said, warning Taylor and Blue as the glass was coming down.

"Thank you," Blue said. "Don't worry about getting out. I'll go out on Taylor's side."

Harry gave her a nod. "Yes ma'am. Your dad has me coming back at 9:30 to pick you up, but you know where to reach me if you need me before then."

Taylor had no idea they would be over there so long. Alec had asked him 'to dinner', but he hadn't mentioned what time they'd be finished or given him any details. Taylor would have normally been stressed at the thought of being occupied all evening, but that night, the opposite was true. When Harry said what time he'd be back, Taylor felt a stab of disappointment like that wouldn't be enough time with Blue.

He was correct to assume that.

The time at Mitch's went by far too quickly.

It was a fun, laid-back evening with good company.

Alec, Blue, and Taylor were the only guests at Mitch and Rhonda's house, so it was a quiet evening. Their place was full of all sorts of fun things, though. They had recently installed two bowling lanes in their basement, so the first order of business was to bowl a game. They all sat around, talking, and laughing, and telling stories in between frames. Alec and Mitch told stories about the good old days on the road and in the studio. They were funny stories that had everyone laughing.

Rhonda and Blue chimed in quite a bit, but Taylor found himself listening a lot. It wasn't very often he got to sit and share quality time with someone as legendary as Alec Stone—that never happened, actually. The thing was… Taylor was so distracted by Alec's daughter, that he hardly knew Alec was in the room. She was wonderful. Easy and peaceful. She didn't seem to be worried about things other girls worried about. She was honest, funny, and even a little goofy. She was so very beautiful. Taylor felt the inexplicable urge to call her his own. He had to have her. He barely knew her, and yet he felt like he had to have her. These types of thoughts were previously foreign to Taylor, and yet they were hitting him in a very real way.

He had never been one to feel very much.

Even as a boy, he was responsible, disciplined, practical. He loved to laugh, and he had a good sense of humor, but he wasn't the type who felt deeply about things. He was unemotional—unattached. He had empathy for people and knew how to make them comfortable; it was what made him good at his job. But that was different. This girl was different. He had met her only today, and he felt oddly attached already.

In Taylor's mind, the only reasonable thing to do was to pretend he wasn't feeling any of this.

He observed their conversation, and even engaged in it himself, all while trying to pretend that he was casual and indifferent about Blue Stone.

He did this all evening.

They bowled and then they ate dinner, which was followed by dessert.

Time flew, and the next time Taylor glanced at his watch it was time for the driver to arrive.

"We'll head back in a minute," Alec said, noticing Taylor look at his watch.

"Oh, no, it's not that," Taylor said. "I'm not in a hurry at all."

He had gone onto the balcony with Rhonda to see a chair. She had described it to Taylor as a good fit for his hotel balconies, and they had stepped out onto the balcony so she could show it to him. Rhonda had gone back inside, but Taylor stayed for a minute to enjoy the view.

He hadn't even seen Alec come out. The larger than life rock star came to stand next to Taylor, looking out at the city.

"She's a good girl," Alec said. "Seriously, one of the good ones, and I'm not saying that just because she's my daughter."

Taylor's heart leapt.

His stomach dropped.

Had he been that obvious?

He must have been if this was the first thing out of Alec's mouth. He wanted to assure the man that he had no intentions, or that his intentions were good. He wanted to say something about intentions, but the words got stuck in his throat, and he couldn't think of what to say or how to say it. He turned and looked at Alec who was staring straight ahead.

"She used to have a crush on her science teacher," Alec said, smiling.

Taylor knew it was ridiculous, but he felt a wave of jealousy hearing the word crush in reference to Blue.

Alec glanced at Taylor. "She had this science teacher when she was a kid who was really into his job. He was a young guy—real good with the kids, and passionate about science or whatever. He used to do all these experiments—they did them like every week. Blue would call me from her mom's house, telling me about it. She was so impressed by that. I think she thought that guy was magical or something with all those science experiments. Her mom found notes that said she was gonna marry him. His name was James something. It started with a B. My oldest daughter had a crush on Justin Timberlake, the second one had a crush on my bass player's son, and Blue falls in love with her science teacher." Alec let out a little chuckle and shook his head. "He wasn't even that good-looking. I think she just liked him for his science. I'm surprised she didn't become a scientist herself."

The two gentlemen heard the door open, and they turned to see who it was. Blue smiled as she stepped out onto the patio.

"I was just telling Taylor how you had that crush on your science teacher for so long."

"Oh, thanks, Dad," she said comfortably but sarcastically. She walked toward the two gentlemen who were standing on the far side of the patio.

"James," Alec said. "What was his last name?"

"Connor."

"Connor. That's right. I thought it started with a B. I was telling Taylor I'm surprised you didn't become a scientist after that." Alec gave his daughter a teasing grin and tickled her ribs as she approached.

Blue dodged her dad, shaking her head and rolling her eyes a little. She made eye contact with Taylor. "That was sixth grade, and here we are, all these years later, and he's still teasing me about it. And my whole class had a crush on him. It wasn't just me."

"There are worse people you could have fallen for," Alec said, shrugging and making a face like he was trying to contain a smile. "The P.E. teacher, for instance."

Blue squinted at her father for teasing her, and he laughed, pulling her in by the shoulders.

"Did you see the chair?" Blue asked, focusing on Taylor since she knew he had gone outside for that purpose.

He nodded and pointed to the chairs Rhonda had shown him. "They're nice," he said. "Really comfortable."

"We better get going," Alec said. "Harry will be here to pick us up, and I promised Taylor we'd have him back at a reasonable hour." (Alec had promised no such thing, but he had only asked him to dinner, which was basically the same.)

"Harry's here," Blue said. " I saw him out there a few minutes ago when I went to use the restroom. She glanced at Taylor. "Looks like we'll have to take a raincheck on finishing that game. I'm sure you're happy to get off without me embarrassing you any further." She was being silly, because Taylor was winning the game when they quit bowling to have dinner. He wasn't trying to devastate everyone, but he wasn't the type to miss on purpose, either. He wasn't an expert, but he was fairly athletic, and he'd been having a good game. They had quit bowling in the eighth frame, and Taylor was winning. Mitch had been practicing a lot lately, and Taylor was even beating him by a couple of points. They weren't being competitive, though. In fact, the game had felt like a background activity to the real objective, which was hanging out.

The three of them headed into the house to say goodbye to Mitch and Rhonda. Blue smiled at Taylor on their way in, and his heart sped up. He knew better than to try to start something with this girl. His life was too busy for that.

"I would love a raincheck," he said even though he knew he was getting himself into trouble.

Chapter 8

Blue

Harry, the driver, worked for a service. They had all sorts of cars to choose from. He had driven us in a limo before. Tonight, however, he was driving a sedan—the same one I had already ridden in twice that day. I wanted to give my dad a huge hug for having Harry drive this car because it meant that I would be forced to sit right next to Taylor in the backseat. It was with great eagerness that I settled into the middle seat on the way back to the hotel.

My dad had worn the same cologne for years, and I could smell him, but I could also smell Taylor. I turned around in my seat, fidgeting unnecessarily with the seatbelt so that I could look at him—get closer to him. Goodness. I was a grown woman and I felt like a kid with a school crush. Not like the one I had on Mr. Connor, either. This one gave me a whole host of other feelings. Grown woman feelings.

Taylor was sitting next to me, and I made eye contact with him after I supposedly found my seatbelt. He grinned. He was completely irresistible, and I made myself look away right after I smiled back at him.

I was used to being around a bunch of rockers. I had always been around guys who looked edgy, and I was drawn to the way Taylor dressed differently, like a hi-end clothing model—polished and tailored.

I loved how he looked.

I had been doing my best all night to not be obvious about it, but I liked him. I liked him a lot. He was smart and he knew just what to say and when to say it. My dad and Mitch both liked him as well. We joked around a lot, but there was time for deeper conversation, too. They asked him tons of questions about his book and his business philosophy.

Taylor spoke to my father in a way few guys ever did. Usually, people were so consumed with making an impression on my dad, that they accomplished the exact opposite. Taylor, however, was honest—easy. My dad loved him and so did Mitch and Rhonda.

I realized, during the course of that evening, that Taylor had chosen the perfect profession. He was an absolute legend at making people feel comfortable. You could feel it simply by being in his presence. It was like the air around him was made of velvet. (Yes, I knew this was also a crazy thing for me to think, but it was the truth.) I was relishing in this velvet air in the backseat when his leg brushed against mine.

He turned in his seat, shifting to stare out the window and, when he did, his leg accidently pressed against mine. I took an unsteady breath as I stared wide-eyed at the spot where it happened. My dad had pointed out a restaurant, and Taylor turned to look at it, but the side-effect of this whole conversation was that Taylor's leg was now touching mine. He left it there even after he turned and said something else to my dad.

I barely listened to them. They discussed the fried chicken and waffles that could be acquired at that restaurant. I had eaten those exact fried chicken and waffles for myself, but I did not offer my opinion because I was completely useless on account of the physical contact. It was an accidental leg-touch, for goodness sake, and I couldn't breathe properly.

Taylor and my dad got to talking about different types of food after that. I kept waiting for him to pull his leg away or readjust, but he didn't. It was one of those moments where I felt like energy or electricity was being produced at the place where we made contact. I had no idea if he was feeling the same thing I was. We were, after all, sitting right next to each other in the car. He could very well have not even noticed we were touching. I really hoped he noticed, though. And there I go again, thinking like my former teenage self. Taylor Patterson reduced me to this.

I let out a sigh.

"Are you coming upstairs with me?" Dad asked.

I nodded instantly. I certainly wouldn't mind hanging out with Taylor, but I knew he had to get back to his work, and rather than make him feel bad about refusing me, I said, "I'm gonna head into my room. I'll probably just read a little or see what's on Food Network. I'm still tired from that whole ordeal in London."

My dad leaned over me to look at Taylor. I could have sworn he glanced down at the spot where our legs were touching, but if he did, it was quick and he played it off. Again, Taylor left his leg in place.

"We have to be at the field early tomorrow," Dad said, reminding Taylor. "I know you'll be there closer to kick-off. Karen will be in touch with getting your pass and everything."

Taylor glanced at me. "When are you going?" he asked.

"I was planning on going up there with Dad."

"She likes to hang out with Tom and all the boys in the locker room. Not while they're changing or anything, but you know. Blue's been tagging along with me to places like this since she was a little girl. All those football players treat her like she's one of the guys."

Taylor's leg, no joke, tensed up and pushed toward me slightly as a result of my dad's words. He had not meant to do it to get my attention. He didn't even move, really, but I could feel the slight movement as his muscles tensed. I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. It was true, I had been tagging along with my dad for as long as I could remember. I did know all the football players on the team and have a good rapport with them.

The things Dad said were true, but he also knew what he was doing. He wanted to see if saying something like that would get a rise out of Taylor. I wanted to see it, too, but I would never be so bold as to actually say it.

My dad was a different story. He wasn't shy at all, and he wanted to see if Taylor showed any reaction. The bad thing was, I could not call my father out on it. I had to act like I didn't even know what he was doing.

Taylor didn't do anything outwardly, but there was a reaction. I didn't know if Dad could notice it since he wasn't sitting next to him, but the reaction was there.

"Do you like football?" Taylor asked.

He was talking to me.

I nodded, glancing at him. "I do."

"Do you know all the rules and everything?"

"She knows more about football than most men," Dad said. "She likes soccer, too. She calls soccer football, and football, she calls American football."

Taylor glanced at me, and I smiled at him somewhat apologetically before glancing at my dad. I gave him a wide-eyed expression, silently begging him to stop, but he pretended not to see me. He liked Taylor, and he knew I did, too, so he was pushing extra hard. I was so thankful we were pulling up to the hotel.

My dad hesitated, staying in the car to say something to Harry and probably pay him. It was for this reason that I got out on Taylor's side. He reached in to offer me a hand, and put my hand in his with no hesitation. He knew just where to stand and just how much assistance to give me in getting out of the car. In those brief seconds, while I was standing up, I considered how much practice he had at it. In his line of work, he had no doubt, helped a few ladies out of cars.

"Thank you so much, Blue Stone." He said the words as soon as I got to my feet. He knew as well as I did that we would only have a few seconds of privacy before my dad got out of the car. I could tell he was trying to be sincere with me, and it made my heart begin to race again. I was already on edge from the accidental leg touching, and now he was saying my whole, God-given name—first and last.

"Thank you, Taylor Patterson," I said, hoping my voice didn't betray how shaken I was. "I’m so glad you came."

"I'm so very glad I came," he said. "That would have been really terrible if I hadn't."

For some reason, his words struck me as funny and I let out a little nervous giggle.

He stared at me. I could tell he was looking at my mouth—at my smile.

"All right, we're all set." My dad's words broke my trance, and I began walking toward the hotel door.

"How was your evening?" the doorman asked the question when he saw us walking that way.

It wasn't Josh.

Taylor answered him, asking a question or two of his own as we made our way into the lobby. Taylor walked Dad and me to the elevator. He thanked us both for the evening and said what a good time he had.

I could tell he didn’t want to leave me.

At least I hoped that's what he was thinking.

I thought it was.

I was certainly thinking that I didn't want to leave him. I pretended to be casual, and so did he, but both of us glanced at each other with expressions that were reluctant and tinged with regret.

"Karen will get with you on your passes," Dad reminded him.

I wanted to tell him that he could change his mind and come to the game early if he wanted to, but I couldn't decide how to say it without seeming desperate.

"Night," I said instead, knowing the elevator door was about to close. Dad had already pressed the button. It was too late to say anything big.

"Night," Taylor said. "Thanks again," he added just as the doors closed completely.

He and I had held eye contact until the very last second, and I breathed a long sigh after the doors closed.

"Oh, my gosh," my dad said, laughing as he spoke. "What was that?"

"What was what?" I asked, defensively.

"You two. Staring at each other."

"No, we weren't. He was talking to you as much as he was talking to me."

"Okaaay," Dad said, shaking his head at me like I was delusional.

"You're the one who kept talking me up in front of him," I said.

"I wasn't talking you up," Dad said seriously. "If anything, I was holding back."

I didn't know what to say to that. It was sweet, and I knew he loved me and he meant it.

We rode the elevator in silence for a few seconds before arriving at the 11th floor. We got halfway down the hall to our room, and I stopped in my tracks.

"I'll be right back," I said.

"I knew it," dad said. "I called that in my head."

"You knew what?"

"That you were going to make an excuse to go back down there. I could tell by the way you were looking at each other. What are you going to do, go downstairs looking for a toothbrush or something?"

I was completely stunned.

I didn't know what to say.

I was planning on doing exactly that.

Literally, a toothbrush.

I wanted to see Taylor one more time, so I was going to go back down to the front desk to ask for a toothbrush. It was obviously a stupid plan if my dad mentioned it as a joke.

"No, I wasn't." I said lying defensively. "I wasn't even going to the lobby." I glanced across the hall at the door that led to the stairs. I could see the little sign with the picture of a staircase and everything. "I was gonna do a few flights of stairs," I said. "Like down to the eighth or seventh floor—try to get a little exercise since my clock's still kind of off."

Dad glanced at the stairway door with an expression like he believed me. "There's probably a gym downstairs. In fact, I know there is."

"That's all right," I said, opening the door to the stairs. "I’m just gonna do a few flights right here… just to get my blood flowing."

Dad nodded at me before taking off toward the suite.

The staircase was all grey and made of concrete blocks, just like every scene in a movie where someone was getting chased. I smiled and began walking down the stairs, wondering what in the world I had gotten myself into. I took the stairs slowly, but the more I walked, the more I seemed to relax. It was quiet in there. All I could hear was the small taps of my footsteps and the echoes that went with them. I listened to the soft, hollow sound as I took the stairs one-by-one.

There were two flights of stairs and a landing between each floor. I got into a slow rhythm on each flight, and then, when I would round the landing, I always looked at the door to see what floor I was on.

I had passed the doors for floors ten and nine and was on my way to the eighth floor when I heard someone else in the stairway.

I stopped for a second to listen for footsteps, and I quickly realized the noise was getting louder, closer. I turned, heading back up, toward the ninth floor. It was a public building. It shouldn't surprise me that someone was using the staircase. But the intrusion was unexpected, and it made me feel nervous and in a hurry. I decided, as I walked toward the ninth floor, that I would get off of the stairs there and take the elevator up to the eleventh. I realized as I walked up the stairs that it would have been much closer for me to go down and exit on the eighth floor, but it was too late now. I had committed to walking upward. I was almost to the landing at the ninth floor door when I heard someone speak from behind me.

"Blue. Is that you? What are you doing?"

I stood completely still.

I felt like I was in a dream.

I did not expect Taylor to be the person coming up the stairs, but that was exactly who it sounded like. I had a couple of steps left to go before I got to the landing, but I was frozen in place on the stairs. Stiffly, I turned to look behind me, smiling when I saw him.

My heart was about to beat out of my chest.

It was so weird seeing him there—surreal, really.

He was still on the set of stairs below mine, but I could see him from the shoulders up, peering up at me with a curious smile. I turned and took a slow step toward him as he took a step toward me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked again, slowly.

"I could ask you the same thing," I said, feeling completely breathless and shaken.

Taylor had taken off his sweater and was now just wearing the long-sleeve plaid shirt that he had on underneath it. The cuffs were unbuttoned and rolled, and his collar was open. I scanned his appearance as I slowly stepped downward to the landing between the eighth and ninth floors.

Chapter 9

The staircase was grey and empty, and somehow, miraculously, out of the great drab emptiness, came Taylor. I stepped down onto the landing and positioned myself in the corner, leaning against the wall as I turned to look at him. I tried to appear casual. Taylor came to stand near me with a kind, curious smile.

"What in the world are you doing here, Blue? Why are you here, on the stairs?"

"I was thinking about coming down to get a… I was gonna see if the front desk had tooth—" I paused and sighed, knowing he could hear how shaken I was in my voice. "No reason," I said. "Exercise."

I took a deep calming breath. I could see Taylor's chest rising and falling as he steadied his breathing as well. Of course, he would be out of breath. He had just come up nine flights of stairs. I had only gone down a few. I had no excuse.

"Do you need a toothbrush?" he asked.

"No," I said.

Out of panic-induced honesty, I almost added that it was just a ploy to get downstairs to see him, but I thought better of it at the last second.

"What are you doing in the stairway?" I asked. I glanced around. "Checking the fire extinguishers or something?"

Taylor gave me a little grin, taking a step closer to me. He turned and found a place next to me with his back against the wall. He was standing only a foot or two from me now, and I looked him over, taking in little insignificant things like the stitching on his shirt and the trimmed hair of his sideburns. I sighed again, trying to get control of my breathing.

He glanced at me. "I wasn't checking the fire extinguishers."

"What are you doing, then? Exercising, like me?"

"I guess," he said. "I guess you can call it that. I was hoping for this exact thing to happen, if you want to know the truth."

"What exact thing?" I asked.

He glanced at me with a grin. "This," he said, nodding once toward me.

I smiled. But I was weak in the knees at the fact that he wasn't joking. My stomach was alive with jitters, butterflies. I leaned against the handrail for support. "So, you were hoping to run into someone in the staircase?" I asked.

"Yep," he said. "Not just anyone, though."

He was going to say he wanted to run into me.

I knew he was going to say it, and my insides were absolutely buzzing with adrenaline. I felt alive with nerves—like I was in the top two at the very end of the Miss Universe pageant, and they were about to announce the winner. I desperately wanted Taylor to say that he specifically wanted to run into me in that stairwell.

He leaned against the wall, seeming content to leave his statement at that.

"How many staircases are in this building?" I asked.

"Two inside and one outside. So, three."

"Plus, the elevators," I added.

Taylor nodded. "Yes. Two of those, and a freight elevator."

We stood there for a few seconds.

"It's kinda crazy," I said. "Running into you here. In this one."

Taylor moved to come even closer. He came to stand right in front of me and a little to my side. He was less than a foot away, now. Our bodies were almost touching. I leaned my head against the wall so that I could stare up at him. I felt like I might actually break into pieces. The levels of desire and anticipation flowing through my body in that moment were unprecedented. I wanted him to kiss me so badly that I was in danger of grabbing him and pulling him to me.

"Blue, when we… a minute ago when we… when we said goodbye… I wanted… there was something I didn't get to say."

I leaned against the brick wall, not breathing as I stared up at him. "What was it?" I managed to ask.

"It was that I…" Taylor spoke slowly, absentmindedly, as if losing his concentration in the middle of what he was saying. He stared at me, his green gaze roaming all over my face. He seemed to me like some kind of predatory animal. "I… I don't remember." He shook his head as he spoke.

I smiled. "You don't remember?" I asked.

He shook his head absentmindedly as he continued to scan my face. "I don't even know what I was saying. I have no idea what we were talking about."

"You said there was something you didn't get to say to me," I said. "What did you want to say?"

"I don't know what it was," Taylor said, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. "I didn't plan anything past this moment. I didn't plan this, actually. I never thought you'd… I never imagined you'd actually be in here."

I stared at him for several seconds. The air between us was charged, but neither of us said anything. I glanced to the side and upward, to the door that lead to the ninth floor. I bit my lip. "I guess I'll be going up to my room, then." I delivered the words with such a lack of enthusiasm that Taylor's smile broadened.

"I guess so," he said. "And I guess I'll be going down to mine." Besides a slight shrug, he didn't move at all. It didn't look like he was in a big hurry to go anywhere.

"Yeah," I said. "It was nice seeing you. I'm glad I ran into you in here."

"Me too," he said. "Like you said, what are the chances?"

We both spoke slowly, staring at each other and relishing the awkward pauses between our conversation. I felt like we were about to either kiss passionately, or turn to say goodbye. I could not tell which was about to happen.

I didn't want to walk away from him.

"l like your shirt," I said, stalling.

I glanced downward, biting the inside of my cheek before looking at him again.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a slow grin. "You like my shirt?" he asked, wearing a tiny smirk as he held eye contact.

I nodded, glancing nervously at the collar and his shoulder. "I like the colors," I said. "White with that purple and pink and green."

He inched slightly closer, and my eyes met his again.

"I liked what you said back at Mitch's house, too," I added, feeling like I should do something better than list the colors of his shirt.

"About what?" he asked.

"Everything," I said. "Your hotel and… just everything. I liked everything you said."

He gave me another amused grin. "I liked everything you said, too," he said. He moved again, stepping closer even still.

"I'm really glad you're coming to the game tomorrow—" I barely had the words out of my mouth when he kissed me.

He did it in a swift, sudden but gentle moment. Taylor ducked, expertly aiming his lips to mine. I stretched up instantly, meeting him, letting him know I wanted this to happen. I reached up, touching the side of his face as we kissed once, twice, three, and then four times. He pulled back and looked at me after the fourth kiss, and my hand dropped from his face.

He ducked and kissed me again. I leaned up to kiss him back, but this time my hands were positioned on his shoulders. Absentmindedly, I grabbed his shirt, taking fistfuls of the material at his shoulder for leverage. I couldn’t help myself. It was a natural reaction to the spine-tingling, toe-curling effects of his kiss. His mouth was perfectly full and soft, and it felt exactly how I thought it would. His touch was tentative and gentle, and it caused an aching sensation inside me.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling back just enough to break contact with me.

He kissed me again, but instantly pulled back a second time.

"I'm sorry for doing this," he said. "I can't seem to help myself."

He kissed me again.

"I'm going to stop. I promise."

Kiss.

"I'm sorry, Blue. I'm trying. I know you need to get back to your…"

Kiss.

"Room."

Kiss.

"I didn't mean to do it, I just… I’m sorry."

Kiss.

Kiss.

"That was the last one."

I giggled, shaking my head at him, and he kissed me again.

"Okay, I swear, that was…"

Kiss.

"This one, right here, this is the…"

Kiss.

"Last."

Kiss.

"One."

Kiss.

"Oh, my gosh."

Kiss.

"Bluuue."

Kiss.

He let that last one linger on my mouth for what must have been ten seconds. Our lips, just touching, unmoving. I wanted him to kiss me deeper, but it wasn't going to happen tonight. I knew he was waging an internal battle with how far he had already taken it. I could feel that he was holding back, being intentionally gentle.

"I'm glad I'm going to the game tomorrow, too," he whispered.

He pulled away, taking a small step back. His eyes were shut tightly as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," I said. "I'm sorry, too."

"No, it was my fault. Really, I shouldn't have. I just didn't think I would run into you in here, and when I did, and you were… I just… I never, ever, ever, do things like this, so…"

He leaned in quickly, and snuck one last kiss in. This one was a little harder because he was moving swiftly.

"I'm sorry," he said again, causing me grin at him. "I'm really gonna go this time. I have to go downstairs."

He started to break away so that he could start climbing down the stairs, but then he turned around, regarding me. "Do you need anything? From downstairs? A toothbrush? Some chocolate milk?"

I let out a laugh. "Chocolate milk?"

"Anything?" he asked with a sweet smile.

I shook my head.

He continued smiling at me as he started to walk off. "I'm sorry about that," he said again.

"I'm not," I said.

He was already down two steps, but I watched with delight as he spun around and headed back to me. He stopped when he was directly in front of me, looking me straight in the eyes and causing me to squirm a little. "What did you say?" he asked.

"That I'm not," I said shyly.

"You're not what?" he asked.

"Not sorry."

"Not sorry for what?"

"That you did that, kissed me," I said, my voice sounding vulnerable, even to my own ears.

"In that case," he said.

Kiss.

"Just one more, and I promise…"

Kiss.

"I'll let you go."

Kiss.

"Goodness, Blue," he said, pulling back again. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He stepped away, and I felt empty.

I gave him a nod. "Goodnight, Taylor."

"Goodnight."

And just like that, he was gone.

I was left standing there, feeling like my life was a movie. What kind of crazy world was I living in that I just walked into the stairwell and just so happened to meet up with the one guy I really wanted to meet up with?

Over the years, I had imagined different things like that happening—different, dream-come-true, best-case-scenario moments. But never did they actually happen.

I stared at the gray wall, wondering how in all of heaven and earth had I just experienced that.

Blankly, I began walking up the stairs.

I climbed methodically, stair after stair until I reached the door on the penthouse level.

I might as well have been floating. My feet felt like they weren't even touching the floor. It vaguely registered that I could have taken the elevator instead of walking all the way up the stairs, but I hadn't been thinking straight. I hardly remembered getting from point A to point B, anyway.

My dad was sitting at the bar when I walked into the suite. I thought Karen or Nick might be around since they often hung out in my dad's room, but they had already gone to their own rooms.

"Did you get some exercise?" Dad asked.

His question made me think of the whole exchange in the stairwell, which in turn, made a huge smile spread across my face. I knew better than to let it happen, but it was uncontrollable. I took off my shoes and bent down to pick them up just to give myself something to do besides smile goofily at my dad.

"Whatcha smiling at?" Dad asked.

Thankfully, he was preoccupied with something on his tablet, so he wasn't that interested and was just asking to be nice. He was staring mostly at the device as he glanced at me from over his reading glasses.

It was because of his preoccupation that I got by with saying, "Nothing," and he believed me.

"You know where the remote is, if you want to stay out here and watch some TV," he said. "I can turn the stereo off."

I shook my head at him when he glanced at me again. "Thanks, but I think I'm gonna go to my room," I said. "I'll probably read and stuff.

"If you talk to your mom, tell her I said 'hi'."

"I will," I promised.

"Hey, Blue-Bug."

"Yeah?"

"You looked beautiful tonight," he said. "And you're smart and funny. I was proud of you over there."

I wanted to start gushing—stating all my insecurities about different moments of the night and asking what he thought Taylor thought of me. But I didn't. "Thank you," I said.

"Really," he said. "Mitch and Rhonda are both really smart, and obviously so is that kid, Taylor, too, and you were just right in there with them. Saying stuff your old man didn't even understand. I don't think I tell you enough, but I'm proud of all the things you know. You're a good girl."

I tilted my head to the side. "Aw, thanks, Dad. I was second guessing everything that came out of my mouth tonight. I know they're smart. I got nervous around them."

"You didn't used to get nervous around them," Dad said.

I shrugged. "I did tonight," I said. I lifted up my arm, sniffing and feeling thankful that it still smelled like deodorant. "I was sweating."

"I don't think it was Mitch and Rhonda making you sweat," Dad said, grinning.

I rolled my eyes at him, but another smile crept onto my face because the thought of Taylor instantly brought to mind the things that had just happened.

"See?" he said. "Look at you, grinning."

"I'm laughing at you," I lied, turning to walk to my room.

"I love you," he called.

"Love you too!" I yelled back. "See you in the morning."

"Hey, we're leaving at nine-thirty, so whatever time you need to set an alarm…"

Chapter 10

I had a difficult time falling asleep that night. I didn't drift off until after 2am, so 8:30 came really early. I wasn't necessarily a morning person, and my body was still moving slow from the traveling hoopla I had endured the day before.

I was out-of-it and stiff-feeling until the events of the evening before flashed through my mind.

Dinner at Mitch's, and then back at the hotel.

The staircase.

The goodness-gracious-glorious staircase.

I squeezed my eyes shut and curled into a ball when I remembered everything. I wanted to squeal. It normally took me about twenty minutes to get out of bed every morning, but that wasn't the case today.

I sat up right away, hanging my feet off the side of the bed.

I dug in my bags for a very specific outfit. It was my new favorite thing to wear. A simple but sophisticated black romper. The pants were full and the top was short-sleeved with a double-breasted, buttoned front. I got it off the rack at a store in Chicago last year, but it looked like it was made for me. It was just one of those outfits that fit my body right. It made me feel comfortable and confident. It was made of thick fabric, and when paired with a little denim jacket, was perfect for a fall football game in New England.

I freshened up my hair by adding a few curls with a large-barrel curling iron, and I pinned it back on one side like it had been the night before, only this time I didn’t put a flower there. I had a small clip with some crystal gemstones attached to the end. They were all shades of blue, and it matched my denim jacket, so I carefully pinned it in the place above my ear.

I was somewhat of a girlie-girl (otherwise I wouldn't have had these types of accessories) but I normally didn't pay this much attention to detail where my appearance was concerned. I was flat-out trying to look my best for Taylor. There was no other way to describe what I was doing.

I ate a few bites of breakfast in the kitchen with my dad, Karen, and Nick, but I knew there would be plenty of food at the field, so I didn't stuff myself. I was too nervous to eat much, anyway. I was preoccupied with wondering if I'd see Taylor in the lobby.

I had this whole scenario worked up in my mind where we would run into him and he would remember everything that happened last night and would not be able to resist coming to the field with us. I figured if a dream-scenario happened to me in the stairwell the night before, it was worth hoping that it might happen again that morning.

It did not happen. Taylor was nowhere in sight when we went to the lobby. Karen and I went downstairs a couple of minutes before my dad and Nick. She had something to take care of at the front desk, and I volunteered to go with her, thus giving myself a better chance of running into Taylor.

Karen and I went through the lobby and to the desk, but he wasn't there.

I glanced into the café, but he wasn’t there either.

I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I knew he was aware of what time we were leaving, so I hoped he would make an effort to see me.

Maybe I was feeling something more than he was, but after everything that happened between us the night before, I really thought he would've been down here.

I stood with Karen at the desk for a minute, but soon, I caught sight of Josh and I headed in his direction. He began walking toward me as soon as he saw me coming.

"Well, you look like you're all rested up," he said with a smile.

"Much better than yesterday morning," I said. I glanced at my watch and slapped a hand to my forehead. "Was that just yesterday?" I asked. "It doesn't even sound right coming out of my mouth. Seems like days ago."

"It was indeed yesterday," Josh said. He pulled back, smiling at me with a teasing grin as he nudged his chin my way. "I heard Taylor Patterson went with you and your dad to dinner." He spoke quietly, looking around as if making sure nobody overheard.

"How'd you hear that?" I asked. "You weren't even working when we left."

He let out a little laugh. "News travels fast around here. Especially when every woman on staff wants to go out with him."

"Who? Taylor? Who wants to go out with him?" I tried to sound casual in spite of the fact that my heart was racing. My blood pressure was through the roof, I could feel it. We were standing close enough to the door that I gave silent thanks for the cool draft that came in when it opened. I smiled at Garret, who was cause of the draft and was now walking by with a hotel guest.

"I can't say as I blame them," Josh said.

I shot him a questioning glance.

"Taylor. I can't say I blame all the ladies for trying to talk to him."

He shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, if I was a girl, I'd want to date him, too. He's, hands-down, the best boss we've ever had. He's real, you know. He's only been here two or three days, and he treats us all like we're his family." Josh looked around again, making sure no one could hear him. "He called me into his office and gave me money out of his own pocket." He paused and stared absentmindedly. "It couldn’t have been better timing, either. I'm not struggling or anything, but my mom has some medical stuff going on, and with my little girl starting school and everything, I…" He sighed and shook his head, giving me a sweet, regretful smile. "Either way, I really like the guy, and so does the rest of the staff."

I nodded. I was having about ten thoughts all at once—wanting to both help Josh and see Taylor were at the forefront of them. I had seen a picture of his little girl—I knew he was a single dad, but I didn't know anything about his mom being sick.

"He's a good guy," I agreed, not quite knowing what else to say. "He had dinner with us last night." I glanced around, looking for him again. "It was good company," I added.

"How was the food?"

"It was good. We ate at Dad's friend's house, but they had a chef make food, so it was like we were at a restaurant. We bowled, too." I added that last part because I knew Josh would get a kick out of the Applegate's having a bowling alley in their house.

"You bowled?" he asked.

I nodded. "In their house."

"They were set up for that?"

I kept nodding. "Can you believe it? They had two full-size, regulation bowling lanes with the mechanical pin-putter-upper and everything."

"They even had the pin-putter-upper?" Josh asked, smiling as he made fun of me.

"Yep, they did."

"I'm not asking you to tell me what capacity you went out with Mr. Patterson last night… whether it was a date, or just business or whatever, but I will say, for what it's worth, that he would be a lucky guy. If you two ever did, you know… he would be the one getting the catch, Miss Blue."

Josh's words sounded so sweet, humble and sincere that I tilted my head at him. "You are seriously the best, Josh."

I glanced back to find that Dad and Nick had already met up with Karen in the lobby and they were headed our way. Josh reached out to grab the door handle to let us all out.

"Josh is the best," my dad agreed, hearing me say that as they approached. "He walked over to Joe's to get me a hamburger for lunch yesterday. Thank you for doing that, by the way," my dad added, talking directly to Josh. "Someone else brought it up, so I didn't get to thank you personally, but they told me it was you who went and got it."

"My pleasure," he said. "I enjoyed the walk. Besides, the people at Joe's treated me like a king because they knew that burger was for you. I'd been in there ten times before, and they never smiled at me and talked to me like they did yesterday. I might have to tell 'em it's for you every time."

We all laughed at Josh's statement as we made our way onto the driveway.

Within a minute, we had said goodbye to Josh, greeted Harry, and gotten into the limo.

"I think you should really give him a good tip," I said to my dad once we were settled in our seats.

"I always leave good gratuity," Dad said. "I think they all split it up."

"Yeah, but this time I think you should leave a big tip—and specifically to him."

"Who?"

"Josh," I said.

"I thought, after last night, you would tell me I should tip Taylor."

I squinted playfully at my dad, and my cheeks turned pink at the fact that he said 'after last night'. I had to remind myself that my dad knew nothing of the stairwell and was just referring to our time at dinner.

"Not Taylor. Josh," I said. "Taylor doesn't need money."

"And Josh does?" Dad asked, wondering what I knew that he didn't.

"I would just like to see to it that he got a nice tip, that's all. I don't mind paying for it. I just don't think he'd take it from me if I tried to hand it to him. Maybe if you add it to the room, he could just get it when we're gone. I don’t want him to know it's from me, so I'd rather do it that way." I looked at Karen. "Could you do that for me, please? Just put it on Dad's room for now, and I'll give him cash when we get home?"

"I'll pay for it," Dad said. "I don't mind. I like the guy. How much?"

"A thousand," I said.

Without flinching, Dad nodded and then he looked at Karen with a nod, giving her the okay to go ahead and take care of it. "Just tell him it was for getting me that burger," Dad said.

Karen laughed. "That's one expensive burger. Hope it tasted good."

"Tasted like making somebody's day, which is better than a burger." He winked at me.

I knew it was more than he expected. He probably thought I would say a couple hundred. He was rich, but he didn't just throw money around left and right.

"Thank you," I said. I worried for a minute that Josh would take it the wrong way or be embarrassed or offended, and I considered asking dad to make it a hundred dollars instead of a thousand.

I held my tongue, though, knowing I could always change my mind later. I wanted Josh to have the thousand. I was happy we were able to do that for him—with the medical expenses and school starting and everything. I could imagine his smiling face, and I felt honored and thankful to be able to take a little weight off his shoulders.

"Josh said everybody at the hotel really likes Taylor," I said since my thoughts inevitably turned that direction.

Dad laughed, making me wrinkle my nose at him. "Now it comes out why you want to tip him so big," he said. "He speaks highly of your man."

"Taylor's not my man, and even if he was, I… that's not why… that has nothing to do with…" I paused taking a slow, deep breath before continuing. "He's not my man," I said calmly.

Dad just shook his head wearing a half-smile and staring at me like he was analyzing what he saw. "I have never seen you like this," he said.

"Me neither," Nick chimed in.

I looked at Nick, but he stared straight ahead, pretending not to notice me.

"I like Taylor," Karen said. "I think he's nice."

"He is nice," Dad said.

"He has to be," Nick said. "Because you normally don't want Blue dating anybody."

Dad shrugged. "Well, if she's gonna date someone, she could do a lot worse than this guy, Taylor."

Karen turned to look at me with a disbelieving expression, wide-eyed like she was really impressed.

"What?" I asked, since she was staring straight at me.

"Your father," she said. "He must really love this guy if he's saying 'you could do worse'. That's basically a marriage proposal coming from him."

I laughed. "Everybody loves him," I said, thinking about what Josh had told me.

"Including you?" Karen asked.

I shrugged, trying to act casual.

I didn't want to let on too much.

I was having doubts about Taylor feeling anything toward me since he hadn't been in the lobby when we left.

"He's nice, if that's what you mean," I said. I shrugged. "He's a cool guy. There's nothing not to like."

Chapter 11

The morning passed quickly.

We ate an early lunch with the team's general manager and some of the other members of their organization before finding our places in the suite where we would watch the game.

The suite had twenty or so stadium seats that were in the open air and looked out at the game. They were roomy and padded, and we were on our own level, blocked off in such a way where we didn't encounter anyone who wasn't also in a suite. It was definitely the high-roller's version of stadium life. Attached to the stadium seats, on the other side of a glass door, was a private living area with a huge kitchen and living room with couches. There were several TV's throughout the room, all of which were broadcasting the game.

The televisions were currently tuned to the pre-game show, which had a little clock counting down to kick-off time. There was only eight minutes until game time, so I knew my dad would be singing the anthem soon.

I hadn't asked anybody about Taylor's whereabouts, but I knew he had been given a pass to come to our suite. My dad had invited several other people as well (Mitch and Rhonda among a few other people he knew through music).

Nick was down on the field with my dad, but everyone else was in the suite with Karen and me. Everyone was hanging out and talking, eating and drinking, and waiting for the game to begin. I didn't obsess about wondering where Taylor was, but it was a thought that crossed my mind on a fairly regular basis. The closer it got to game time, the more I started to doubt that he was coming at all.

And then, there he was.

I was on the far side of the kitchen, looking out of the glass windows that overlooked the field when I spotted him.

I had been looking for my dad at the time.

I knew where Dad would be standing in preparation to go onto the field and sing. I had been down there with him a few times myself. I expected to see my dad and Nick along with a few other Patriots staff members as usual, but there was someone else there, too. Taylor was on the field with my father and his crew. I couldn't see them perfectly, but I knew it was him.

Instantly, I looked over my shoulder, searching the kitchen surfaces. I had noticed two pairs of binoculars sitting on the counter when we first went in. There were a few kids who had come with one of my dad's friends named Kevin, and they had taken the binoculars from the kitchen and moved them to the living room. I could see them from where I was standing—one lying on its side on the couch, and the other resting on the coffee table. They weren't using them, so rather than ask, I just walked over and picked up a pair.

Kevin and his wife were sitting in the stadium seats when I went outside, and they glanced at me when I joined them. There was a little standing room behind the seats, and I stood there so I could focus on the field.

"Are our kids behaving?" Kevin asked, turning to talk to me from over his shoulder.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "They're fine."

I put the binoculars to my eyes, focusing on the spot where I knew my dad was standing.

And, yep, there he was.

It was definitely Taylor. Taylor Patterson, in his full glory. He had on dark jeans with a plaid button-down shirt. His shirt was dark as well, and I thought the plaid on it was Patriots colors. It was understated fashionable team spirit. I simply loved his style—his vintage haircut and his baby face. He made me smile, just looking at him.

"You see your dad?" Kevin asked, looking back at me and obviously seeing me smile. I didn't glance at him or show any surprise about being spied on.

"Yes," I said.

Technically, I did see my dad. He was one of the people in the group. It was crazy, seeing him out there talking to Taylor. There were two other men standing there as well, laughing and talking. I thought one might be the owner of the team. Taylor just fit right in like he knew them all. It seemed like they were old friends, and I watched them, wondering how in the world he ended up down there and why my dad wouldn't have told me that's where he was going. I watched them for what must have been two minutes before I realized that I was officially stalking someone with binoculars.

I turned to make my way back inside.

"You going in?" Kevin's wife asked. "Your dad is about to sing."

"I'm coming right back," I said.

I held onto the binoculars as I went into the suite. "I'm gonna sit outside," I said to Karen. She was standing in the kitchen near the place where I had left my drink, and I spoke to her when I went to pick it up.

"Is it cold out there?" she asked.

I shook my head. "No, it's nice."

"They're about to bring some wings up here," she said.

I smiled and touched my stomach. "I'm still full from lunch. And Dad's about to sing."

I went outside to claim a seat. There was an aisle down the middle with three rows of four chairs on my left and three rows of four chairs on my right. Kevin and his wife were sitting in the second row on the right side, so I went to the first row on the left. The seats were padded and they reclined a little bit when you leaned back. I looked out at the crowd, feeling the energy and knowing everyone was gearing up for game time.

Dad's version of the anthem was a little different than, say Mariah Carey's or Christina Aguilera's. He was a rocker, through and through, and he sang the whole thing pretty mellow until he got to the end where he belted that one note. Everyone loved my dad and the whole place cheered and whistled afterward, which brought tears to my eyes every time. I heard crowds cheer for my father on a fairly regular basis, and it never, ever got old. I was really proud of him, and I didn't take for granted the pleasure of seeing and experiencing amazing things while riding on my father's coat tails.

It was roughly twenty minutes later when Dad came into the room, accompanied by Nick and Taylor. I had just come inside from the seats and was about to go use the restroom when they came in through the interior door. Rhonda and then everyone else standing around congratulated my dad on doing a great job, and he thanked them. I could hear all the conversation happening, but my eyes were locked on Taylor's. I smiled at him, doing my very best to seem unaffected.

The suites didn't have private restrooms, so I had been on my way to the door they had used to come in. It led to a hallway that would take me to the restroom that was shared with a few other suites. I was headed over there, anyway, so I walked into the living room, crossing paths with the guys when they came in.

Nick instantly walked toward the kitchen to get food, but my dad and Taylor hung back, closer to the door. "Hey sweetie," Dad said, hugging me as I approached them.

"Hey," I said. "You did so good."

"Thank you," he said. He gave me a curious expression. "Where are you going?"

"The restroom," I said.

He nodded, but before he walked away, he turned and gestured to Taylor. I used this gesture as permission to make eye contact with Taylor, and when I did, I realized that he was already looking at me. His green eyes melted my heart the instant I connected with them. I had a flash of our moment in the stairwell, and I got chills. I tried to hide my reaction. I had to glance away.

"I was just telling Taylor that story of you being a stow-away with me on tour that time," Dad said.

I smiled and nodded, finding the courage to meet Taylor's eyes again. "I got in big trouble for that one," I said.

"That's something we all think about doing when we're a kid, getting into someone's luggage, but none of us actually do it. I can't believe you actually got into a bag."

I shook my head. "I can't believe it either. Thank goodness it was something going on the bus and not under it."

"Yeah, she could have ended up in the luggage compartment." Dad paused and shook his head as if clearing that thought out of his head.

"I'll be right back," I said.

Dad started to make his way into the suite, leaving Taylor and me at the door.

I glanced at Taylor again. "Are you hanging out, or do you need to get back?" I asked as casually as possible. "I… I didn't know if I should say 'hi' and 'bye', or if you'll still be here when I get back."

Taylor glanced into the living room before looking at me again. "I'm staying for a little while," he said. "But I'll go with you to find the restroom, if you don't mind."

I shook my head, and we made our way to the door together.

He reached out and opened it for me.

Several other suites shared this hallway. Looks-wise, it wasn't like the rest of the stadium—it was just a large, private hallway, carpeted with nice light fixtures. If you went to the right, you'd find the door that led out to the stadium. That door was carefully guarded by two doormen. To get to the restrooms, we took a left, heading away from that door.

"Have you ever been in a suite like this?" I asked, feeling nervous and wanting to fill the silence as soon as we stepped into the hallway.

"Not here in this stadium," he said. "But a few times back in L.A., for different sporting events. It never gets old, though. I appreciate you guys inviting me."

I shot him a smile, feeling too shy to tell him he was welcome for something I had little to do with.

"I didn't know you were going out on the field with my dad," I said.

Taylor let out a laugh. "I didn't either," he said. "I got a call this morning from my book publicist saying that there was someone I needed to meet while I was at the game—some audiobook publisher. She hooked all that up where I could meet up with that guy, and while I was over there, I saw your dad. I was just finishing up what I was doing, so your dad asked if I wanted to tag along with him."

The restrooms weren't far down the hall, we could see the sign, so we walked slowly—barely moving.

"That's one thing I didn't think I'd be doing when I planned this trip," he added. "Standing out on the field at a Patriots game with Alec Stone while he sang the anthem. I think that's officially as American as you can get."

That made me laugh, and Taylor looked at me—regarding me sweetly. "I wanted to see you guys off this morning," he said. "We had some issues in the kitchen, and I couldn’t get away. I tried. I'm sorry."

"Oh, no, that's okay," I said, pretending it was the first I thought of it.

We had stopped in the hallway, finding a spot close to the wall. There was no one else around. You could hear some noise coming from the door of the suite that was closest to us, but we were alone. He glanced around wearing a little smile.

"I had a shirt on last night," he said. "The white one with purple and green, you remember?"

"Yeah, what about it," I said, faking nonchalance.

He reached up and touched his own shoulder—right hand to right shoulder—just a simple touch. He made a confused, almost concerned expression. "It's got these… I noticed last night, after I took it off and was about to put it in the dirty clothes that it had these…" He shook his head like he was genuinely confused. "It's got these marks... these wrinkles right there that… I don't know. I don't know where they could have come from. They look like somebody was squeezing onto my shirt right there… almost handprints. But they're probably just random shoulder wrinkles, don't you think? Do you ever get those?"

I remembered last night—the way I held onto his shirt for dear life as he kissed me gently over and over. I was not at all surprised to learn that I had left wrinkles on his shirt. The thought of him seeing that after he took his shirt off, and the fact that he was currently bringing it up, had me feeling weak in the knees. I had to remind myself to breathe. I shook my head coolly as we crept along, moving slowly toward the restroom.

"No, I've never heard of those," I said, looking a little confused and trying to play it off.

"Okay," he said, nodding at me. "I was just making sure."

I tried my best to think of what I could say. I couldn’t believe he brought up the kiss. He had done it so quickly and cleverly that I didn't feel capable of responding. I wanted to think of the perfect thing to say, but I was so swept up by the moment—his face—that I just stood there, saying nothing.

"Your dad did such a great job," he said. "And it was really nice of him to let me join him down there."

I smiled. "He's pretty okay. How'd your other thing go?" I asked, meandering toward the restrooms again. "Whatever you were doing downstairs before you saw my dad—the audiobook or whatever."

"Oh, great. It went really great. It was the company owner, so he wasn't trying to talk business or anything. My publicist just wanted us to meet. The contract has already been worked out. I was just supposed to introduce myself. He was a nice guy."

"Josh really likes you," I said after a few seconds. "Josh from the hotel—the doorman. And he said everyone else feels the same way over there. We mentioned you this morning, and he said they all like you a lot." I came extremely close to adding something about all of the female staff having crushes on him, but I changed my mind at the last second.

"Josh told you that?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Well, that was a really nice thing for him to say," Taylor said. "For the most part, it's a really good crew."

We stopped in the hallway again once we got close to the opening on the right that led to the bathrooms. Taylor tilted his head, regarding me with a thoughtful look.

"I was thinking about last night," he said. "Not just the stairwell, which…" he trailed off, glancing around and making sure we didn't have company. "Which was really, really, so nice, Blue. It really was. I was, uh, thinking about something you said, lots of things you said, but one thing in particular. It was something you said last night—about not feeling like you had real direction compared to your sisters."

I nodded, remembering our conversation.

"I felt like I should tell you… you know, while we have this time together in Boston, where our paths were crossing and everything. I was thinking about it, and you very much have an identity, Blue. I don't know your sisters, but I can't imagine them being more of an individual than you are. I can't imagine someone with more to offer. I hope you really know how much you have going for you."

"So, you think I'm okay, even if I'm in my mid-twenties and still tagging along with my dad to football games?"

"You're so very okay for that," he said. "You're smart for that." He put his palms up, gesturing around himself. "How many people get to experience this?"

"Not many," I said. "Do you always walk around making people feel good like this?"

He smiled at me when he realized the answer to his question. "Yes," he said, honestly. "But I only tell the truth, and it was something I wanted to make sure you knew. You're Blue Stone. You make your own way, have your own things going, and you still make time to hang out with your dad. You're the coolest one in your family, if you ask me."

I smiled. "I bet you're the coolest one in your family, too."

He acted like he was thinking about it before nodding confidently. "Yes, I am," he said, pretending to be totally serious and making me laugh.

Chapter 12

Taylor and I went out into the stadium once we were done in the restroom, and we ended up sitting next to each other the whole time he was at the game. We talked to virtually no one else besides each other. We swapped stories of our very different childhoods.

He was the oldest, and I was the youngest.

He was poor, and I was rich.

He never left Inglewood, and I traveled the world.

But, somehow, we turned out to be two people who very much enjoyed each other's company—enjoyed sharing conversation. We were altogether different, and yet somehow so similar.

Conversation with Taylor was easy and honest. We looked each other in the eyes and told each other the truth about things even if it was unflattering. We laughed a lot and had serious moments, too. It was with great reluctance that he left the game, and it was only because a phone call came in from the hotel.

He was there until the fourth quarter, but I was still sad when he had to go. I pretended to be okay with it. He didn't want to leave either, but there was just no way around it. He said it had to do with the kitchen drama that had occurred that morning.

I got out of my chair and walked with him through the suite when he went to leave. I claimed that I needed to get something else to drink, but really, I just wanted to walk him out.

My dad was in the suite, watching the game through the glass. Taylor told him goodbye and thanked him again for everything. My dad hugged Taylor, which wouldn't have been weird at all, only my dad really wasn't a hugger. Sure, he hugged me and my sisters all the time, but I had never seen him hug Karen or Nick, or anyone else, for that matter. I brushed it off, figuring there was really no explanation for it other than he liked the guy and felt like it was the right thing to do in the moment.

"We leave in the morning," Dad said to Taylor, causing my heart to sink. "I hope to see you before then, but if not—"

Taylor held up a finger, causing my dad to cut his sentence short. "I didn't mean to interrupt you but I was going to ask your permission to take your daughter to dinner tonight." He glanced at me. "I haven't even asked you yet. You might have plans already, but I—"

"Yes," I said. "I mean, no, I don't have plans." I looked at dad. "Do we? Do I? Am I forgetting something?"

Dad gave me an amused grin and shook his head. "No, you're not forgetting anything."

I looked at Taylor. "Come on," I said, feeling wary of my dad's knowing smile. "We'll talk about it on the way out. I know you have to get back."

I walked Taylor to the hallway, talking about restaurant options that were close to our hotel. He still had a lot of work to do, but he said if I could wait till around eight o'clock and eat a late dinner, he would be able to relax for the rest of the evening.

It pleased me greatly that he was taking the reins on making time to hang out with me again. We got along like two people who not only knew each other, but actually belonged together. I naturally meshed with Taylor. I was so relieved that he was asking me to dinner. I was afraid that he was going to leave this suite, I would leave Boston in the morning, and I would never see him again.

We were discussing the difference between smelt roe and salmon roe, and had essentially agreed on sushi for dinner by the time we made our way to the hall. Lucas Sims came walking down the hall just as we went out there. He was headed toward the suite next door, the one that was always reserved for the friends and family of the legendary running back, Tig Sims.

Lucas was Tig's baby brother, and he came to all the home games. Lucas was a character. A funny, cool guy who was handsome enough to get by on his looks in life, even if he didn't have a famous big brother like Tig. He really was handsome. He had done some modeling. How did I know this? He had shown me his portfolio. Multiple times. That's what I mean by him being a character. He was decked out from head to toe in designer, fashion forward clothing.

"What's up, beautiful baby girl?" Lucas asked, coming in for the hug as he walked up to me.

I reached out to hug him, breathing in the strong smell of cologne that hovered in the air around him.

"What's up, Lucas?" I asked.

"You know me, Blue-Girl. Just ballin', baby."

"I know you are," I said.

"Your daddy rocked that anthem," he said.

We were standing next to the door of the suite, and he glanced at it. "Y'all right here in number four?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Imma hafta go in there and tell Alec he rocked that song," he said, reaching out for the door handle. It was something he had done before. My dad knew Lucas and wouldn't be upset for him to come into the suite. I nodded at Lucas, knowing he was going in no matter what I said.

"Lucas Sims," he said, holding his hand out for Taylor. "Male model, baller, and baby brother of Tig Sims."

I looked at Taylor, wondering how he would take Lucas—how he would react.

"Taylor Patterson," he said with a smile, shaking the man's hand. "Business owner, book writer, and also baller." He glanced at me with an irresistible, uncertain shrug. "I'm a baller, wouldn’t you say?"

He was messing around, but I smiled and pointed at Taylor while nodding and looking at Lucas. "He really is a baller," I assured Lucas. "No joke."

Lucas liked that, he wore a huge grin and slyly nodded his approval at Taylor before heading into the suite to talk to my dad.

Taylor had played it off like nothing was wrong, but he looked at Lucas a little sideways from the moment Lucas called me 'baby girl'. Lucas was just like that. As of this moment, he was most likely saying things of that nature to Karen and every other girl in our suite. It didn’t mean anything, coming from Lucas, but it was interesting to see the slight shift in Taylor's demeanor. It reminded me of the evening before in the car when my father said those things to make him jealous. He just stiffened up a little.

"I guess I'll see you at eight," Taylor said.

Not knowing that he was about to speak, I said, "He's funny," at the same exact time.

Taylor had heard my statement in spite of us talking over each other, and he smiled at me. "He called himself a baller," he said responding to my comment.

"So did you," I said with a silly wide-eyed expression, teasing him—flirting with him.

"Yes, but I really am a baller," Taylor said. "And I only said it in response to him saying it."

I laughed. "I know you have to go," I said reluctantly.

"I'll come to your room at eight," he said.

***

Taylor knocked on my door at eight o'clock on the dot. My dad, along with Karen and Nick, were all in the living room with me when he got there. Nick was playing a videogame where his character had to kill other people who were online playing. My dad didn't know how to work the controller, but he liked to watch Nick battle and he often told him where to go and what to do with his character. Sometimes, they argued like teenage brothers, but Nick always gave in.

Karen and I were in the living room with them, watching the action when Taylor got there.

I greeted him at the door. I still had on my black romper, but I traded the denim jacket for a slightly dressier black and white one.

Taylor reached in to hug me when he came in the door. "You're so beautiful," was the first thing he said to me, and he said it close enough to my ear that no one else heard. Instead of answering him out loud, I gave his arms an extra squeeze. While I was near him, I breathed in his clean scent, feeling utterly calm and at peace now that he was nearby. I really just truly, genuinely liked this guy. My heart was happy.

"Hey, Taylor," my dad said from across the room.

"Hey, Mr. Stone," Taylor waved as we broke contact and began heading toward the living room.

"Blue said you were eating sushi."

"Yes sir, that's what we talked about." He touched his mid-section. "I'm starving, too." He looked around as if searching for something. "Have you guys eaten? Would you like to come with us, or can we bring you something back?"

"You're not coming with us, but we can bring you something back," I said.

Everyone knew I was (mostly) joking, so they laughed about how quickly and impassively I said it.

"No. Thank you, though, Taylor," Dad said. "We were just talking about ordering something."

"Somebody mentioned chowder at the game earlier, and your dad's hungry for that now," Karen said. "I've got the number for three different places. We're gonna try them all and see which one's the best."

"Sounds fun," Taylor said. "You'll have to give me the verdict."

Dad smiled at him. "Take care of my daughter," he said.

Taylor gave a little bow. "For the next two hours, I will focus on nothing else."

His words sent chills up my spine. Chivalry was attractive to me, and Taylor was so very good at it. He was smooth and considerate while somehow being tough, no nonsense, and in control. I wanted to do anything I could to extend the time that he was planning on focusing on me. Surely, I could get more than a couple of hours. Maybe the rest of his life? Was that too much to ask?

***

We sat at the sushi bar instead of getting a table.

We mostly talked to each other, but we also made conversation with the chefs. We were there for quite a while, eating, and getting to know more of each other. We didn't make physical contact, but we flirted and smiled, and it was completely obvious that I liked him and he liked me.

Two hours passed in what felt like ten minutes, and before I knew what was happening, Taylor had paid the check and we were leaving.

We walked to a local coffee shop that didn't close until midnight. We had eaten dessert at the sushi bar, so neither of us were hungry. I knew, however, that going back to the hotel would signal the end of our evening together, so I asked if we could go to the coffee shop to avoid that happening.

We ordered tea and ended up staying there until almost closing time.

Again, time passed too quickly.

We walked slowly on our way back to the hotel, so it was after midnight by the time we got there. Taylor spoke briefly to the doorman on duty and then to the concierge before leading me to a place on the edge of the lobby where no one was paying attention to us.

"I wonder if your dad found the world's best chowder," he said as we made our way over there.

I smiled. "I'm surprised he didn't already know what the best one was," I said. "Everything's a contest with him. He's constantly asking us to rate things."

Taylor nodded at that. "I remember him making us all rate the appetizers at Mitch's the other night."

"Exactly," I said. "It's always 'which one is your favorite', or 'how would you rate it, one to ten'."

"Ten," Taylor said.

I looked at him, and he smiled. "Twelve or fifteen out of ten, actually."

"What are we rating?" I asked.

"Tonight. This moment, right now."

"Which one is it?" I asked. "Tonight, or this moment?"

"Why?" he asked. "Would they be two different scores for you? Aren't they the same?"

I shook my head confidently. "No. Tonight in general is a fifteen out of ten, but this moment, right now… well…" I paused and glanced around. "It's more like an eight or nine out of ten. Don't you think? Maybe seven even."

Taylor's face turned into an offended grimace, which made me laugh.

"What? I'm just being honest."

"What's wrong with this moment?" he asked.

"Nothing's wrong with it. Eight or nine out of ten isn't bad. Or even seven."

"What could make it better, then?"

I looked around and let out a little sigh. "We're about to say goodnight, and I'll get in the elevator and go to my room."

"Yeah, that is pretty bad," he agreed.

"It wouldn't be so bad if we were in a different location," I said. I glanced around, noting the various hotel employees in the distance. "I would have given us a fifteen if we were in a place where we could maybe say goodbye without everybody noticing us. It's points off for location."

Taylor looked around with furrowed eyebrows and a serious expression like he was really trying to assess the situation. "You're so right," he said, pretending to be disappointed.

"This is a really terrible place to say goodbye."

"What do we do?" I asked.

"I have an idea," he said.

And just like that, he grabbed my hand and led me to the elevator. Aside from a quick hand on my back or an accidental brush, it was the first time he had touched me all evening. He was officially holding my hand, and I stepped onto the elevator feeling breathless and shaken because of it.

Chapter 13

I thought he was going to kiss me right there in the elevator. I expected him to do it, and I thought it would happen right when the doors closed. I stifled the jitters and held my breath, anticipating it.

Taylor still had a hold of my hand.

He reached out with his other hand to press a button, and I glanced that way to see what button he pressed. I had the hunch that he was going to take us to the penthouse level and kiss me on the way.

I watched as he pressed the number 8.

8.

It felt random for about three seconds before I remembered the episode on the stairs.

"Are we… where are we going?"

Taylor reached out and touched the number 8 again, telling me where we were going without saying any words.

I was supremely aware of the fact that my hand was in his. I felt like I had about a thousand nerve endings in my hand—like we might produce an actual electrical zap.

The elevator moved quickly, and in seconds, the doors opened on the eighth floor. We exited and walked toward the left, in the direction of the stairwell.

I grew more and more breathless with every step. My heart raced and my blood ran warm. Taylor walked at a normal pace, glancing at me with a smile as he opened the door that led to the stairs. I went in ahead of him and I was instantly faced with a decision. I could go down toward the seventh floor, or up toward the ninth. It was a no-brainer. I headed upward to the landing between the eighth and ninth floors—to the exact spot where we had been the night before.

"What exactly are we doing here?" I asked in mock confusion.

I turned around casually once I reached the back corner of the landing, and Taylor instantly approached me. He was smooth and gentle, but he wasted no time at all getting into my space. He let his hands fall on me, touching my upper arms with reverence as he looked me over. Our eyes were connected, and I smiled, feeling so thankful that I had a wall to lean against.

Taylor glanced at my mouth when I smiled. He shook his head almost imperceptibly like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Blue, I… I… honestly didn't think things would be like this with us…"

He was serious, almost concerned, and I stared at him curiously.

"What's that mean?" I asked.

"I really did think I would…" He let out a breath, and I felt his chest deflate. He shook his head as if searching for the right words. "For the next eighteen months or so, I'm going to be unimaginably busy—focused—dedicated—single minded."

"Okay…" I said, not knowing where he was headed with that.

"Blue, I don’t have time for… I mean… I didn't think I had time for…" he breathed again. "What I'm saying is that I can't bear the thought of not seeing you again. That just doesn't feel like an option to me. I honestly thought I'd be okay with just saying it was great meeting you and leaving it at that, but I'm just not. I'm not okay with that. Are you?"

I was slightly confused, and I bit my lip, hoping I didn't answer wrong. "I don't think so?" I said as more of a question than a statement.

"Just please say you want to see me after this," he said.

I stared at him, wondering how he could even ask that. I was basically in love with the guy. I had been desperately waiting for him to say he wanted to see me again.

"Of course, I want t—"

He kissed me.

He didn’t wait for me to finish my sentence. His lips touched mine. A gentle kiss—a replica of the ones we shared the night before. He pulled back, looking down at me.

"I have to see you again," he said.

I nodded. "I want to. In California or wherever you're at. I know you're gonna be really bu—"

He did not let me finish my sentence.

He cut me off by kissing me as I was in the middle of saying a word. It was because of this that his lips happened to make contact with mine when mine were open. His mouth instantly molded to mine—pressing a warm, wet kiss against me. He wrapped a hand around the back of my head, and this encouragement caused me to open my mouth to him. He let his tongue touch mine, kissing me deeply for a few toe-curling, gut-clenching seconds. Taylor held me and kissed me like he meant it—holding me securely with his warm mouth over mine. He broke the kiss but then he did it again, two more times, before pulling back far enough to focus on my face.

I stared into his green eyes.

I wanted to look into them forever.

I felt something akin to ownership of them. Maybe that was too much, but I definitely didn't want anyone else having the opportunity to exchange this type of look with Taylor. We stared at each other, communicating our mutual admiration without saying anything. We liked each other. Both of us felt it. That was evident by the way we regarded each other in those seconds.

"I have to see you again," he said, still looking slightly perplexed like he hadn't expected any of this to happen.

I smiled at him and reached up to touch his face. My hand cramped as I opened it, and it was only then that I realized that I had been squeezing it closed tightly. Any discomfort I felt in my hand went away as soon as my fingers touched his cheek. He was clean-shaven, but I could feel the hint of stubble underneath the surface of his skin.

I smiled absentmindedly at the feel of it.

I wondered if I had ever been so attracted to a man.

I didn't think I had.

I knew I hadn't.

I was enraptured, infatuated, hooked like a fish, putty in his hands. I grinned when I had the realization that he was putty in my hands too.

"I have to see you again, too," I said.

I stretched upward, kissing him again. He ducked to meet me when he saw what I was doing. Our mouths met, and we stayed like that for several long seconds.

Taylor groaned when he finally pulled back, and then he kissed me three more times like he couldn't make himself stop. "I am in bad shape over you, Blue," he said, shaking his head.

I smiled, and he continued to shake his head when he saw me.

"It's really bad," he said, staring straight at me.

"I know," I said.

"I hope you know," he said in a jovial tone. "If you don't know, I'm in even bigger trouble."

"I think you're in trouble either way."

"I think you're right," he said.

"I'm in trouble, too," I admitted. "I got my own junk going on back in California. I can't be trying to talk to some guy…" I was messing around, acting all tough, but I was just about ready to drop anything and everything to be with him. I hated the thought of leaving Boston in the morning.

"What?" he asked.

"What, what?" I asked.

"Why'd you get serious?"

I managed a smile. "I was just thinking about leaving in the morning," I said. "I don't even know what time we're heading out."

"I talked to your dad about it. He said you would leave for the airport at ten."

"Will you meet me downstairs to say goodbye?" I asked.

"Of course I will," he said. "I already told your dad I'd go to your room at five-till to get your things."

I nodded. My hand was still on his face, and I flexed my fingers touching him tenderly and giving him a regretful smile.

"I know," he said. "We gotta go. It's late."

"You’re the one who has to be up at five," I said.

He gave me a nod before kissing me again. He let his mouth linger on mine before he pulled back, moaning dreadfully. We smiled at each other slowly, regretfully.

"There's really no good moment to walk out of this stairwell," he said.

I kissed him again. "I know," I said. "But we have to."

"Yep," he said.

He kissed me.

Twice.

"So, we're gonna see each other again," he said. "In California. It's a promise, okay?"

I nodded. "Soon," I added.

"Soon," he agreed.

We left that stairway holding hands. Taylor rode with me up the elevator to the penthouse level. He didn't kiss me while we were in there. There were multiple cameras, and he didn't want to take any chances for either of us.

We shared an extended verbal farewell on our way up the elevator and down the hall headed toward my room, so by the time we got to the door, Taylor just gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek and headed the other way.

I had been so enraptured that I was just now noticing how late it was. My dad was in his bedroom, and Nick and Karen had gone to their rooms. It was extremely quiet in our room, which was a relief for me because I had a lot to think about.

I had a lot of feelings to sort through.

I had spent a lot of time with Taylor in the last two days. I spent the last five hours with him, and I found myself replaying moments of it—smiling, and blushing, and cringing at different memories.

We had exchanged phone numbers, and I came really close to texting him, but I decided to leave things how they were—let the evening settle in my own mind and in his. I went to sleep just before 2am with a smile on my face.

***

I was not smiling at 6:52 when my dad shook me and woke me up.

"Blue. Blue. Hey, Baby Blue."

He said my name a little louder each time, and I opened my eyes, blinking and squinting even though it was mostly dark in my room. I still hadn't completely caught up on rest from the flight to Boston, and I sincerely had a difficult time getting my eyes to stay open.

My alarm was set for 9am, and I blinked at the digital clock that told me it was much earlier than that. I glanced at my dad like he lost his mind.

"We gotta get up and movin', Baby Blue. I know you came in late, so tried to let you sleep in as late as I could, but we gotta get going right now, peanut. You've got about fifteen minutes to get some clothes on and pack your stuff." He patted me on the leg. "Go ahead and get dressed and get your things together. We've got coffee out there."

"Daaad," I said, sleepily.

He was already on his way out of the room, and he turned.

"I thought we were leaving at ten o'clock."

He shook his head. "Bobby had to reschedule. He called last night and said we have to leave at eight instead of eleven."

I knew Bobby was the pilot, so I just sat there and let that new bit of information sink in. "How many minutes do I have?"

"Fifteen."

I turned on my lamp as soon as Dad left the room.

I had no time to waste.

I had to pack and get dressed, and fifteen minutes went by in what felt like half-a-second.

I was just so tired and out-of-it that I was walking around in a dreamlike state. That must have been the case, because I found myself standing at the door for room 112, Taylor's room, and I hardly remembered going downstairs.

The door opened, and there he was—Taylor.

He was dressed for the day, and looking alert and focused… so very masculine and handsome. Instantly, his face fell and he gave me a look of concern.

"You okay?" he asked. I could see that he was noticing everything I was carrying—my coffee and one of my suitcases.

"My devices are in this one," I said. "That's why I've got it with me."

"Are you leaving right now?" He stuck his head out the door, glancing around me and down the hall as if looking to see if someone was waiting for me.

"We're leaving in few minutes," I said. "I told Dad and them I was coming down to try to find you and say goodbye. They're all right behind me."

Taylor had gestured for me to come inside and by the time I finished what I was saying, I had already come to stand in his room. I knew which room was his, but I hadn't been in there before.

In theory, it was just a normal hotel room with a king-size bed and a little living space, but Taylor had completely transformed it to what looked like a big information hub.

I could imagine him being a detective and this hotel was a huge case he was working on. Information was everywhere. There was an oversized desk with stacks of papers all over it. Everything was neatly labeled with different categories. There were headshots of employees stacked on tables and attached to the walls. It was organized, but to me it was overwhelming, and I caught myself staring at it, my eyebrows furrowed as I tried to take everything in.

"Are you some kind of CIA agent or something?" I asked.

Taylor laughed. "No, this is just how I work," he said. "I have to make sense of this place as one organism before I can really feel what needs to change."

I scanned the room and looked at him feeling amazed like I had met and fallen in love with some kind of mad genius. Numbly, I left my bag by the door and took a few more steps into the room.

Taylor took the coffee cup out of my hand and set it on a nearby table before gently pulling me into his arms. It was a tender embrace where he held me tighter by the second, pulling me in and rubbing my back.

"I don't want you to go," he said.

I squeezed him, holding him tightly as I rested the side of my face on his chest. "I know. I don't want to go, either."

"I need to help your dad get his bags. I told him I would do that."

"He already got someone else to do it. Harry's here waiting. I saw him parked outside."

"Why didn't your dad call and tell me?"

"He asked about you when he called the desk, but they said you weren't up there."

"He could have called my phone, or they could have put you through to my room."

"He didn't want to bother you," I said.

I felt Taylor's chest move as he let out a long breath. "I'll be back in California in a week, okay? We'll figure something out."

I nodded against his chest. "I'm gonna try to talk to you before then," I said.

I hadn't meant for them to, but my words came out somewhat timidly. Taylor pulled back, taking my face in his hands and staring at me with a look of utmost sincerity.

"You better try to talk to me before then," he said, sweetly. "I just assumed you were gonna call me when you got home—you know, to let me know you made it safe."

He lowered his face to mine and kissed me right on the lips. I was so overcome with emotion that, in that moment, I came close to telling him I loved him.

Chapter 14

It had been a week since I had seen Taylor.

I left Boston early that Monday morning, and now it was Monday again.

It hadn't gone quickly at all.

It felt as if the last week was more like a month. I had talked to Taylor at great lengths every day. At night, we would FaceTime or talk on the phone, and throughout the day, we would text each other. I felt like I really knew him now, and the best part was that he was exactly the person I thought he was to begin with. He was precisely the man I assumed he would be—smart, patient, kind, level-headed, funny, full of integrity and ingenuity.

He was a good person, and the more I got to know him, the more I realized that I was not content with living without him. I knew he had a big plan for his immediate future, and I hadn't been in it at first, but I would do anything and everything to remain a part of this man's life.

It was beginning to sink in that he felt the same way about me.

I was absentmindedly thinking about it as I stared at the tile floor in my mother's kitchen. My mom had a maintenance guy who did a lot for her around the house. His name was Kirk, (not Kurt) and he was at the house putting in a new disposal under the sink in the kitchen.

My sisters were at the house and so was Indie's husband Kai, and two of his friends. All of them were musicians who were friends of our family. Indie and Kai had a toddler named Leo who would be joining us a little later. Kai's mom had an appointment to get his portrait made, after which she was taking him for ice cream. Leo was the only one missing.

Why was everyone gathered at my mom's house at 10am on a Monday morning, you might wonder.

I'll tell you why.

It was because Taylor Patterson, my boyfriend, was making a television appearance on Good Morning USA, and we were all there to watch.

I cared so much for him that I hadn't been able to keep our budding relationship a secret from my mom and sisters. They insisted that we all gather at Mom's to watch the show. I didn't know Indie's husband, Kai, was planning on bringing Gage and Lee, but it didn't matter. All I could concentrate on was my excitement about seeing Taylor on television.

We were watching it on delay, and I had already got a text from Taylor saying that everything had gone well and that he would call me as soon as he could. Even with the knowledge that the interview had been a success, I was still out–of-my-head with nerves about seeing him.

"Blue!"

Based on the tone, it didn't seem like it was the first time they were saying my name, and I snapped to attention, looking for whoever had said it.

It was a guy's voice, and I was relatively sure it wasn't Kai, so my eyes went to the other two. They were sitting on couches in my mom's living room. I had been sort of in between the kitchen and the living room, and I headed toward them, waiting for them to state why they had called my name.

"Didn't you hear me?" Lee asked.

"Were you the one who said my name?"

"Yeah, like three times, and I was talking to you before that."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear."

"I said I heard you invested in that chain of kickboxing gyms. I have a buddy who's working at one of them, and he said you owned about five of them."

"Part owner," I said. "Silent investor, really."

Lee's eyebrows rose like he was impressed. "Look at you, little Miss Blue, buying businesses."

Kai threw something at Lee. (It was just something that was near him. I thought it might be a balled-up gum wrapper.) "She's been investing in stuff for like ten years," Kai said. "She knows what she's doing. She bought into that brand of gourmet cotton candy when they were in some girl's living room, and now they're in grocery stores all over the country."

"Cotton candy?"

"Gourmet cotton candy," I said. "Sophisticated flavors, like mint juniper berry and things like that."

"What would make you buy into cotton candy?" Lee asked.

"The better question is why in the world was my partner the first one to think of this? It's an absolute travesty that upscale cotton candy wasn't already a household thing."

"She's not just an investor, she's a believer," Mom said from her spot near the pantry. She reached in and grabbed a plastic container that was full of the cotton candy in question and began walking toward Lee so that he could get a look at it.

"What kind is that?" Lee asked.

Mom looked at the label. "Lemon lavender vanilla," she said as she handed it to him.

"Lemon lavender vanilla?" he asked in disbelief, checking out the label for himself. He opened it. "I gotta try some of this." Lee put a little in his mouth before inspecting the label again with an interested expression. "Who woulda thought to buy into a cotton candy company?"

"Blue would," Kai said. "I'm starting to learn that it's smart to just buy whatever she buys. You could do it too, Lee, if you had more than fifty-two cents in your checking account."

Lee picked up the wad of paper Kai had thrown and threw it back to him. Kai caught it in mid-air, and turned to try to stick it into Indie's ear. She shifted to the side, looking at him like he was insane.

"Hush, hush, hush… it's coming on!"

My mom was as nervous as I was. She held up the remote, aiming it toward the television. She was wearing an intense expression since she couldn’t get the volume to go up. My sister, Vi, was next to her, and she took the remote from Mom, holding it in the air at a funny angle to try to get it to work. I glanced at the television just in time to see them cut to a commercial for paper towels.

"We didn't get it in time," Vi said, shaking her head. "Taylor was on there for a second. I'm sure he'll be up next."

Indie leaned forward so we could all hear her when she spoke. "He didn’t say anything yet," she said. "It was Anabel talking. She said they'd be back in two minutes for the segment with Taylor."

Indie and Kai were sitting on the couch that was closest to the television, so I wasn't surprised that she had been able to hear what was going on.

Anabel Hayes was the newest member of the Good Morning USA team. She had been working there long enough that everyone knew her, but she was young and spunky and pretty dang beautiful.

I wasn't necessarily the jealous type, but if someone could bring jealousy out of me, it was Anabel. If she was the one my sister had mentioned, that meant she was probably doing the interview with Taylor, and I felt a gut-clenching wave of jealousy because of it. I did not let it show. I wore an easy smile and tried to pretend I wasn't nervous or insecure in the least.

Two minutes passed in an absolute flash.

We all scrambled around, finding a good place to sit and watch the interview. I fought the urge to squeal as I squeezed in next to Indie and Kai on the couch. Indie held my hand. I was shaking, so I was thankful for the firm, steady hold she had on me.

"And we are back," Anabel said, flashing that winning smile before nodding at Taylor who was sitting next to her. "I'm here with Taylor Patterson. He's opening a brand new boutique hotel in Beverly Hills, and he's got a new book in stores. Taylor, you're just all over the place right now, aren't you?"

Both of them chuckled lightheartedly.

"That's an understatement," Taylor said. "I'm burning the candle at both ends right now, and loving every second of it."

Anabel laughed, completely charmed.

Indie and I held onto each other with an iron grip.

"Tell us a little about your book," Anabel said.

Taylor smiled. "It's called 'On Hospitality', and that's exactly what it's about. Hospitality. Consideration, I guess, too. It's a collection of my thoughts and philosophies about the service industry and life in general."

"It's not just for people who work in the hospitality industry, though," Anabel trailed off assuming he'd agree or disagree.

"Definitely not," Taylor said.

Anabel nodded and then focused on a piece of paper she was holding. "I've got a quote from it here," she said. "It says, 'I am absolutely a character when I'm on the clock. I'm still myself, I'm just a better, more unvarying version of me, and I think of that as a character or persona. One who's always motivated and in control. One who's always pushing, striving. I don't always feel like going to work. Sometimes, I'm not feeling my best physically. Sometimes, things aren’t going exactly as I planned in my life. Sometimes, life knocks me down. I'm human. I have good days and bad days just like everybody else. My guests, however, will always encounter a consistent, focused version of Taylor. People don't gravitate toward someone who is negative, distracted, or bogged down. If I want customers, I am positive and focused. Period. I am a character when I go to work, and that character isn't worried about my dry cleaning, or my bills, or my aching back. That character is fixed on one thing, and that's making your stay comfortable.'"

Anabel put down the paper she had been reading from and smiled at Taylor with her eyebrows raised. "Pretty cool stuff," she said. "Going that extra mile. I guess that's what you're known for."

"I hope so. It'd be a good thing to be known for."

"So, you've managed hotels in the past, and now you're opening one of your own. Building it at this very moment."

"That's correct."

"You're also doing some consulting work, if I'm not mistaken. Helping some established places get revamped, reorganized."

Taylor nodded, smiling humbly. "I've had the honor of working at a couple of amazing places while I'm out here on the east coast. Last week I was in Boston, and this week, I'm here in New York."

"I heard you've been working at The Vine all week."

She was correct.

After Taylor left Boston, he went to New York. He had been working at the famous New York hotel for the past four days. It was an even bigger undertaking than The Birmingham had been.

"That's been a real honor," Taylor said, nodding. "I'm very thankful that I get to do what I do."

"And it sounds like you love it," she said.

"I do love it."

"Tell us a little about the hotel you're opening in Beverly Hills."

"It's called Patterson Place," he said. He smiled. "And, it's my home, you know? Recently, someone told me I was basically building myself a big house with a bunch of guest bedrooms, and she was right. That's exactly what I'm doing. I'm building myself an awesome house out in California, and I'd love for you all to come stay sometime."

"So, you designed it, or had a hand in designing it?"

"Correct," he said, nodding. "It truly is my place. I have people who help with the actual interior design element, furniture and things, but I set it up and I oversee everything. I built it to specs, knowing it was a perfect size and set-up for my style of management."

"And how would you define your style of management?" Taylor smiled and gave a humble shrug that melted my heart. "If I had to put it in just a few words… I'd just say, 'the very best'."

Anabel laughed. Taylor was charming and funny, and I was both happy and jealous that she could see that.

"No, really, I just do my best to provide an amazing customer experience for anybody who comes to stay. It's my house, and I do everything in my power to make people feel welcome there.

"You heard it, America, ladies, y'all go stay at Taylor's house when you're in Los Angeles." She glanced at Taylor wearing a good-natured expression and shaking her head like she was on the verge of laughing. "I have a feeling you'll have great success with your hotel, Mr. Patterson." She put her paper down and leaned forward to shake Taylor's hand before focusing on the camera. "And in the meantime, check out his new book, which is in stores now." She looked at Taylor. "I wish we had more time," she said. "It's been a pleasure. Taylor's book is called 'On Hospitality', and his hotel is called Patterson Place Beverly Hills. It opens...." she hesitated, glancing at Taylor for help.

"In January."

"January," she said with a nod. "And now, we join Terri for a look at this fall's hottest fashions." The screen cut to the other host, and I numbly took my eyes off the TV, staring straight ahead as everything processed.

"Don't turn it all the way down," Mom said to Violet. "He might come back on." I glanced at my sister to find that she was aiming the remote at the television. She turned the volume almost all the way down before responding to Mom. "He's not coming back on," she said. "They're done with the segment." Vi focused on me. "He's so hot."

"Super hot," Indie agreed.

Everyone started talking at once.

Kai responded to Indie's statement, saying something like, "Heyyy," while everyone else started saying other things at the same time. My thoughts were going a hundred miles an hour, so I felt like I couldn't focus on any of it.

"He really does seem like a good guy," Mom said. "A nice guy."

I glanced at her, and she tilted her head at me, regarding me with the expression of a mother whose baby was growing up.

"He is a good guy," I said.

"Your dad seemed to really like him."

"When'd you talk to dad?" Vi asked. I already knew the answer to this, but Vi was busy with her life and work in Hollywood. She was the one who was most out of the loop.

"He came over here the other night," I said.

"For what?" Vi asked.

Mom shrugged. "We just hadn't caught up in a while. He was passing through town and he called me. I think he was excited about Blue's new beau. He wanted to tell me about meeting him and see how you girls were doing. Get updates on you girls, and Leo, and everybody."

"I thought y'all weren't talking at all," Vi said.

"That's when he was dating that Cheryl woman," Mom said. "She was jealous or whatever." Mom's serious expression said it all. She pretended to be fine, but all of us thought she still had feelings for Dad.

"So what? You two have dinner now?" Vi asked, obviously feeling protective of Mom's feelings.

"If we want to, we will, Violet. But no, it's not like we do it on a regular basis. Like I said, I think your daddy was just passing through town, and maybe he was excited about Blue's new boyfriend."

Chapter 15

"Don't call him my boyfriend."

I warned my mother and sisters four days later when we were all sitting around a table in a restaurant, waiting for Taylor.

It was Friday, and I was meeting up with Taylor for lunch in Beverly Hills. He had flown home Wednesday evening, and we set up a time to see each other as quickly as we could both manage it.

My mom begged me to let her take us all to lunch. I ran the idea past Taylor, and he didn't mind at all, so I agreed. Mom and I took separate cars to L.A. since I would be hanging out with Taylor afterward.

"I thought he was your boyfriend." Mom said.

"Well, he is, Mom. But even if he is, or whatever, you don't need to say it. Don't say beau or boyfriend, or even talk about dating or seeing each other. You don't have to talk about it."

"Just be cool, mom," Vi said.

"Oh, my gosh, are you Vi Stone? Are you the Stone girls? Alec Stone's daughters?"

We got attention nearly every time we went out together. Separately, we could get by without being noticed—especially Indie and myself. Vi was a little different. She had just played a supporting role in an action movie that was a pretty big hit at the box office, so she got noticed even when she was alone. Maybe it was a result of Vi's success in acting, but people had been a little bit bolder about approaching us lately, especially when we were all together.

I went through the motions of smiling at the fan who had approached us, but I was completely preoccupied. I was so nervous about seeing Taylor that I could hardly concentrate on anything.

My thinking had changed somewhat since the last time I saw him, and I was nervous about coming across as too anxious. I had an epiphany of sorts when I was watching him on Good Morning USA. I had talked to him quite a bit since then, but my realization wasn't just something I could tell him without coming across as too eager.

I realized as I watched him on that show that I could find absolute purpose and pleasure in the role of the lady of Taylor's house. Maybe it sounds cheesy, but it was the truth. I knew I would be good at it. I could feel myself in that situation, living in a penthouse apartment in Beverly Hills. Welcoming people into our home, and standing by Taylor through thick and thin. I instinctually knew that it would be a lot of hard work, but I still imagined myself in the role of his wife and partner. I had already been thinking of ways I could help him and grow his business and make it better. I would be his helper—his partner. I couldn't think of anything I'd have more fun doing in life. Seriously. I felt like I was created for that role. I knew Taylor would benefit from my presence and support, and I knew we loved each other enough to end up in that situation one day, but I wasn't telling him I had any of these thoughts.

We had a lot of serious talks, but we weren't at the place in our relationship where I was bold enough to come out and say things that basically meant I was ready to get married and jump into life together. I knew we had love for each other, but we hadn't had any conversations that specifically defined our future. It just felt like too much to offer right now.

All this to say, I had a lot on my mind.

I was on auto-pilot as we greeted the fan who had approached us. We took a quick picture with her and then went back to having conversations amongst ourselves as soon as we could.

Mom and Indie started talking about a piece of art Kai got Indie for her birthday, and Vi chimed in on that, saying something about how much she liked the colors and the frame.

Leo was with Kai. I had already seen him twice since I had been back from my trip. Otherwise, I would have insisted that she brought him. It was easier this way, anyway, because we had to do a lot of driving. Plus, it usually took a while to eat at this restaurant. Leo would have grown restless.

We had left Ventura that morning and met Vi at her house before heading to the restaurant. The plan was to meet Taylor at 12:30, but traffic was light, and, even after a stop, we got there a half-hour early. We went into a nearby store, but we still made it to the restaurant early. We had been sitting there for five or ten minutes when Taylor arrived.

He took my breath away.

I watched as he walked in, taking his sunglasses off once he came inside. It was a gorgeous day, and he was dressed more casually than I'd ever seen him. (In person, at least. We had used FaceTime quite a bit, so I had seen him in his pajamas.) He had on a lightweight navy cotton blazer, but it was worn over a white t-shirt. He wore fitted grey pants and a leather belt and loafers. No tie. No button-down. It was as casual as you could get for a restaurant that encouraged gentlemen to wear jackets. He looked like a million bucks. I could not believe this person was headed to our table. I could see the front of the restaurant from where I was sitting, and I watched as the hostess began walking him over.

I was buzzing with anticipation.

Taylor smiled casually as he walked, looking around, looking for me. He was a sight for sore eyes. His hair was styled and his clothes were perfect—stylish and casual, and fitted to show the lines of his body. It was obvious that he knew what he was doing when he dressed himself every morning.

Indie had been pinching my leg, and I hadn't even noticed at first; that's how distracted I was. Once I felt her, I grabbed her hand to make her stop. I could hear Mom whispering something about Taylor being here, but I didn't look at her or respond. I was looking at Taylor when his eyes fell on me.

His face completely changed when his smile broadened. He was happy to see me, and I let out a tiny uncontrollable laugh. We had saved the seat next to me, and Taylor headed around the table toward it. I stood up, knowing I would want to hug him—I couldn't wait to hug him.

My mom was in the seat next to the empty spot, and she stood up to embrace him first. I watched as they hugged. She squeezed him and then she put him at arm's length so she could get a good look at his face. He smiled at her "I saw you on TV, and Blue let me see your picture," she said. "But you're even better looking in person. So handsome."

He smiled and gave her a thankful nod. "Likewise, Miss Kim. You and your girls are all really beautiful. What a lovely family you have." He glanced around the room. "I think I'm the envy of every man here, right about now."

He smiled and leaned across the table to shake my sisters' hands—first Violet and then Indie. He said each of their names as he shook their hands. I had sent him pictures and talked to him about each of them, so he knew exactly who he was meeting. Both of them said something to him, and he responded, but I could hardly understand or keep up with what they were saying.

I was so nervous and excited to see him that I could hear my heartbeat in my own ears. I had to remind myself to breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

I stood there, waiting for Taylor to finish meeting my family. I was waiting for him to focus his attention on me, expecting it, and I still wasn't quite prepared for it when it happened. Taylor turned toward me, looking me over, his green gaze warm and mischievous. His eyes sparkled in the light as it came through the windows.

"I have missed you so much."

He spoke so low that I knew I had been the only one to hear him. In response, I reached out to hug him. I squeezed him tightly sighing in his arms as I drew close and causing him to do the same thing to me.

After a few seconds, he pulled back, looking at my face while wearing a smile that was embodiment of relief. He was happy to see me, and I smiled at him, letting him know I felt the same way. He squeezed my hand before pulling out his seat so that he could sit down. Mom had sat down in her seat, so Taylor and I did the same thing.

Our table had been meant for six people, so seeing as how we only had five, the chairs were a little too far apart. I should have thought to move my chair closer to his before he ever sat down, but now there was a gap between us. I could reach him if I stretched, but I wasn't trying to be obvious at a restaurant with my family. I would have to settle for going the whole lunch without touching him at all. How would I ever survive?

"We saw your interview," Mom said to Taylor right when we sat down. "You did a really good job."

Taylor gave her a nod. "Thank you. I had a lot of fun doing that. I don't travel much, so I'm still recovering from my trip."

"I travel a lot," Violet said. "And it still takes me a few days to recover every time—especially if I'm working."

"Definitely," Mom agreed. "It sounded like you had a lot going on over on the east coast. That kind of trip would wear anybody out."

Taylor breathed a sigh letting his shoulders slump playfully. "Ahh, that makes me feel better."

He looked at me as he straightened again. Our eyes locked, and for a second, it felt like we were the only two at the table. He held his hand out, and I took it, but it was too awkward to hold with them hanging between us like that, so we just gave each other a squeeze and dropped hands. The squeeze was enough. Taylor hadn't been able to refrain from making contact, and that fact held me over during the remainder of lunch.

We stayed at that restaurant for over an hour, talking about Taylor mostly. My mom and sisters had a lot of questions for him. They wanted to know about his family and his work, and he answered their questions with honest candor that made me smile the whole time. He had come from humble beginnings, and he wasn't ashamed. Multiple times, he mentioned learning different valuable lessons from the less-than-perfect experiences in his life. His past had only made him stronger, wiser.

He asked my mom a few things about me. He mentioned the story of me being a stowaway that Dad had told, and Mom told it from her point of view. Both of my sisters remembered the incident as well, and they offered their take on it, which was also really funny.

Taylor picked up the check, and my mom and sisters thanked him before heading off. He and I stayed at the table. They knew that Taylor and I had plans to hang out after lunch, so they left before we did. Taylor and I stayed to finish with the tab and talk about what we were going to do next.

Just as soon as my mom and sisters were gone, I scooted my chair toward him. He reached out, helping me with the process by pulling me closer. I smiled as he drew me near. I didn't need to do any work at all.

He leaned over, bringing his face to my neck. I felt and heard him breathe in through his nose. He took a deep breath, taking in the scent of my neck before placing a tender kiss on my cheek.

"Blue, I have missed you way more than I should've."

I reached up, placing my hand on his face, letting my fingertips touch his cheek. My hands were cold and the contact made Taylor smile.

"I think you should have missed me," I said, looking straight at him.

"You do?"

I nodded.

"Did you miss me?" he asked.

Our chairs were so close together that they were touching. This meant our faces were extremely close. We both tried to act casual since we were in the middle of a crowded restaurant, but the energy between us was extremely charged.

"I did miss you," I said.

I couldn't bear being so transparent—it made me all giddy inside. He was everything I wanted physically, but that was just the tip of the iceberg.

He had told me something in one of our conversations, and looking at him, I felt like it was the truth.

He told me the Old Testament story where a man went onto a mountain for forty days and encountered God. After this time, his face actually physically glowed. The thing was, eventually, the glow wore off.

Taylor said that's why he feels like he needs to spend time with God. Not to be religious, but to get a recharge or a refill—like his glow eventually goes away if he doesn't do something practical to connect with God on a regular basis.

That was just one tiny piece of one conversation I had with Taylor during the past week. We had talked about art, food, movies, family—everything you could imagine, really.

It was this conversation, however, the one about Moses with the glowing face, that came to my mind as I looked at Taylor in that restaurant. And the reason it came to my mind was that he did glow. Maybe not literally, but there was something—some peace and contentment—some supernatural confidence he exuded.

I stared at the table because I was overwhelmed by it—overwhelmed by him. I wanted so badly to be a part of this guy's life, that I felt like I was constantly on the verge of just coming out and saying it.

Taylor used his finger to nudge my chin toward him. "How much?" he asked, referring to my statement about missing him.

I smiled. "Too much."

Chapter 16

Neither of us thought I should leave my car at the restaurant, so I followed Taylor when we left.

We went to his hotel.

There was work going on, but it wasn't as hectic or busy as I anticipated. There were a few work trucks parked in the entrance of the parking garage in the valet driveway, so Taylor led us to a couple of spots that were a little further down on the first level.

I parked beside him.

I knew he had a truck, but I hadn't seen it yet. It was nice—a newer, black four-door pickup. I liked it. It made me happy just to watch him get out of it. I knew what he drove, but it still came as a little surprise. I had imagined Taylor in a Range Rover or Audi or something like that. Not because he wasn't manly or masculine, the opposite was true. It's more because he really knew how to dress. For whatever reason, that little fact influenced what I assumed he would drive. I smiled absentmindedly about it as I got out of my car.

"Whatcha thinking about?" he asked, seeing me smile as I walked toward him.

"Your truck," I said. "I was laughing at myself for assuming you drove something else by your clothes."

Taylor smiled as he looked down at his own appearance. "What? Are these not pick-up truck clothes?"

I laughed as I came to stand beside him. He took me into his arms, and I went willingly, embracing him. "You look good in a truck," I said against his chest.

He shook with laughter. "Well, it's a good thing, because I need a truck for this place. I'm constantly using it. Even if I had a car, I would have to own a work truck also, so I figured I'd just buy something for work that I don't mind driving all the time." He reached out with his free hand and gave the back of his truck a couple of slaps. "It does the job."

"Is this all yours?" I asked in an amazed tone, gesturing around as we walked toward the glass doors that would take us into the lobby.

"The garage, you mean?"

I nodded. "We drove by earlier this morning, when we first got into town. I was checking out the hotel building, but I didn't even consider this being yours too, this parking garage. It looks new. Is it part of the hotel?"

"Yes, it is," he said. "It's part of the construction. There's three stories of parking with a rooftop pool and patio area on top of the garage. You access that from the sixth floor. I'll show you."

I pointed upward. "So, there's a pool right above us?"

Taylor looked up. We had been walking, and by this point we had almost reached the doors that lead to the lobby.

"Technically, not right above us," he said. He pointed toward the middle of the parking garage. "But right over there, yes. I'm sorry, I thought I told you about that."

"I knew there was pool access from the sixth floor. You mentioned that. I guess I just didn't realize it was on top of a parking garage. I didn't picture it. It's crazy that you own a parking garage."

"Yes, it is," he said, giving me a squeeze. "That's crazy to me too. Come on. You'll be able to see it better from inside."

Taylor used a keycard to open the sliding glass doors that led into the hotel lobby. He let go of the hold he had on my shoulders when he did it, and I missed having him there. I was relieved when he grabbed my hand after a few more steps. The glass doors had a slight mirrored effect, which had made it difficult to see inside while we were in the garage. I was amazed by what I saw once we stepped into the lobby.

"Oh my gosh, Taylor, are you serious? This is so gorgeous. I did not know it was this far along. It's basically done. What are you missing?"

"Wallpaper. He's missing wallpaper." It was a woman's voice, and I glanced at Taylor with a wide-eyed expression like I had been caught.

Just then, I saw a woman peek at us from around the corner.

"Hey Barb," Taylor said.

"I heard you come in," she explained. She looked at me, smiling as she wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. "He still needs wallpaper," she said to me with a smile, further explaining her answer. "We're getting there, though."

I looked around. The walls were covered in black with beautiful, elegant, vintage looking swirls, circles, lines, and designs. It was amazing.

"Did you do all this?" I asked.

"Me and my crew," Barb said.

She tilted her head way over to the side, indicating there was someone else on the other side of that wall. By this time, Taylor and I were almost near where she was standing. Hand in hand, we took a few more steps, looking around the edge of the wall. There were things spread out all over a drop cloth in their workstation. A radio was playing 80's rock. It was so low that I could only hear it after I came around the corner. Madonna. I could see another person, a man who was sitting down and using some kind of tool to smooth the wall.

"I would get up," he said in a slightly strained voice. "But this is time sensitive, and—"

"Don't get up, Steven," Taylor said. "We don't mean to bother you. It's looking amazing, guys, thank you."

"You're not bothering us," Barb said. She smiled and gestured to the ceiling. "I think you made the right choice on the chandelier, Taylor. It's awesome. A real centerpiece. Steven and I were talking about how it really brings everything together."

Taylor looked up at the gigantic light fixture that hung from the main entrance. It was breathtaking—huge, intricate metal designs with delicate, smoky glass light fixtures all over the place. They looked like glowing unopened flowers. It was vintage and ornate. So beautiful. A work of art.

"Thank you. They put it up yesterday," Taylor said, nodding. "I'm really happy with it. Trevor, the designer, wanted me to be here when they installed it, so he waited till I got back from my trip."

"Steven and I came by yesterday, but they were working, and we didn't get to appreciate it," Barb said, peering upward. "He did a beautiful job. We've been checking it out since we got here this morning, talking about how it was probably custom." She gestured with her hand and a curved motion, aiming towards the ceiling. "We were saying how it looked like it was made to fit right there. You know, with how the staircase goes up and everything."

Her words made me focus on the grand spiral staircase that was on the other side of the lobby. It was one of Taylor's favorite details about the hotel, and I had seen pictures of it, but it was even better in person. I felt alive with nerves and excitement as I took it all in. Taylor was the owner of all this—the visionary—and he was holding my hand.

"Oh, it's custom," Taylor said, in a joking voice.

Barb smiled and shook her head. "I bet it is," she agreed.

"I'm gonna let you get back to your work," Taylor said. "He started to turn, but I felt him jerk back to place, looking at Barb. "Barb and Steven, this is Blue," he said. "Like the color. She's my…" He trailed off, glancing at me like maybe he was a little in over his head. "She's my lady, so I wanted you to meet her. Help her out if she needs anything."

Both of them nodded, but Taylor continued talking, only pausing to glance at me.

"Barb and Steven own the company that's doing all my paint and wallpaper," he added.

She nodded. "We have a big crew working all over the hotel. We're completely done with floors one through five. And we're chipping away at the rest of it."

Taylor nodded since this wasn't news to him.

"The tile guy was looking for you," Steven said.

Barb nodded. "Oh, yeah. I forgot. Glenn came by. He asked if we'd seen you."

"He sent me a text," Taylor said with a nod. "Thanks."

He pulled me along, turning and walking into the grand entrance of the lobby. We walked slowly so I could look around, take it all in.

I didn't say a word.

I just meandered into the grand entryway, feeling like I was in a dream as I scanned every surface. I adored the beautiful marble tile that covered the floors. There was wood, and metal, and marble in all the right places. The winding staircase went from the first floor to the second in dramatic fashion. It was made of beautifully carved wood and stained a rich mahogany color. I couldn’t help but think of the way I already wanted to be a part of this place before I ever saw it. Now, I was a hundred percent sure that I wanted to.

I stepped into the center of the great room, feeling like it was honest-to-goodness built for me. I wished it was. I felt what Taylor felt—that I could find satisfaction in operating a place like this.

I couldn't help myself. I let go of his hand and took a step to my right (exactly in the middle of the floor) and did a spin with my arms out. I drank it all in, smiling and breathing deeply, loving the sight of all the rich colors whizzing past me as I twirled.

I stared upward as I came to a stop.

"My gosh, Taylor, this light is even more beautiful from underneath."

I checked it out for a few seconds before my gaze shifted slowly to look at him. He was staring straight at me with a sweet smile.

"I'm so proud of you," I said. "I can't believe you did all this. It's really an unbelievable undertaking. This place is amazing. I want to live here." I hadn't meant to let that last part slip, so I caught myself right when I said it. I let out a nervous laugh. "Who wouldn't want to live here? It's wonderful. It's like I stepped into the past. I feel like I'm in 1930's Chicago."

"Good," he said. "Not that specific time or place or anything, but that you have a sense of nostalgia. I think that's good."

"It's wonderfully nostalgic," I said. I stepped closer to him, gazing at him as I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. Taylor put his hand on my back, pulling me closer. His gorgeous green eyes scanned my face unhurriedly, stopping on my mouth.

"Your lips," he said, speaking softly.

"What about them?" I whispered.

"Everything. The color. The shape. The way they move when you talk. I want to kiss them, Blue. I can hardly wait any more. I've been missing you so much."

I was watching his mouth the whole time he spoke, and I determined that I wanted to kiss him back at least as desperately as he wanted to kiss me. More desperately.

"I'm gonna show you around, okay? Because I don't want to stand here and do this in front of Barb and Steven."

I nodded, biting my lip, and he squeezed me. I came really close to reminding him that he called me 'his lady' when he introduced me, but I didn't say it. I just followed him when he took my hand, leading me across the room and down a long hallway to an elevator. We had passed a large set of elevators in the lobby, but this one was different. It was tucked away. We approached a small set of doors at the end of the hall, and Taylor reached out to push the button. I watched him do it, marveling at the beautiful bronze plate that adorned the 'up' button. I almost mentioned how beautiful everything was, but again, I stayed quiet. I was too overwhelmed to speak—too excited and nervous to form words.

I had no idea where Taylor was going to take me, but I knew he was going to kiss me when we got there. "This elevator only goes to the penthouse," Taylor said as the door opened. "It doesn’t even stop on any other floor."

"Can you get to the penthouse using the main elevators," I asked, "or do you have to use this one?"

"You can get there on the other ones," he said. "You have to use a key, but you can."

"But this one's private?" I asked.

He nodded. "For me and whoever is staying in the other penthouse suite."

"So, like if Dad was staying here…"

"He wouldn't even have to go through the lobby. There's access from the parking garage to that door right there." Taylor pointed at the door across the hall, and I glanced at it, trying to figure out where we were in the building. He had been holding the door open for me while he explained all that, and afterward, we turned and stepped into the elevator.

He pushed the button to go up to the penthouse, and the elevator began moving. He reached out for me, drawing me close to him by placing his hand around my waist.

"I could not love this place any more than I do, Taylor," I said, looking up at him.

"I am so happy to hear that," he said. "It really makes me happy. I wanted you to like it. It's important to me that you do."

"I can't imagine a cooler business," I said, looking at the detail inside the elevator. "I think of my dad staying here. I know he'd love it. My mom and my sisters would love it, too. Anyone would. I seriously want to work here," I said, hoping that was innocent enough.

"You can," Taylor said, easily, turning me in his arms so that I was facing him more fully. "What job do you want?"

I hadn't expected him to ask that question, so I just said the first thing that came to my mind.

"Manager," I said. "Assistant manager. Assistant to the manager."

"That's me," he said.

"I know."

"So, you want to be my assistant?" he asked, slowly.

I nodded.

Taylor had a hungry look in his eyes. I held my breath, knowing he was about to kiss me.

Just then, before it could happen, the elevator doors opened.

Chapter 17

Taylor and I stepped off the elevator and onto the penthouse level.

Even in the hallway, it was gorgeous.

The walls were light grey with delicate white and gold designs. Everything was masculine, vintage, and top of the line. There were skylights in the ceiling, which let the natural light into the hallway.

It did not feel like a hotel at all.

It was beautiful.

Taylor just watched me as I took it in.

I glanced his way. "It's just breathtaking."

He smiled. "It's just the hall."

I grinned back at him as we headed to his apartment. "I thought they weren't done with the eighth floor," I said, looking at the wallpaper and thinking about what an excellent job they had done on it.

"The hall and my suite are mostly done," Taylor said. "They've still got work to do in the guest suite." He used a thumbprint to open his door, and I followed him in when he gestured that I should. I walked inside, trying my best to take it all in.

It was overwhelmingly wonderful.

I had seen some pictures of all of these spaces, but everything was much different, better in person. I was blown away by the attention to detail. The molding, the light fixtures, the wall plates, the paint colors, the beautiful wood floors. I knew he still had some furniture to buy, but there was already some nice things, and it was welcoming and inviting.

"Are the floors like this in the other suite?"

He nodded. "We went with a different color finish, but it's the same wood and the same size planks and everything."

"And the ceilings?" I asked. "Are they like this?"

The light fixtures and inset detail of the ceiling were exquisite, but what really caught my eye was the skylights. I hadn't seen them in the pictures.

"It's mostly the same," Taylor said. "There are skylights in the other suite, too."

"Can people see in?" I asked, looking up.

He looked up as well. "I don't know who would."

"People in helicopters," I said.

Taylor laughed. "There's some kind of coating on the glass," he said. "No one can see in. Thank goodness, with all those helicopters flying over all the time."

He was teasing me, and I smirked at him. "They do fly by," I said.

He smiled. "Well, I'm glad we're covered."

I glanced around, trying to take everything in. "You have outdone yourself on this place, Taylor. I really don't know what to say."

Before I knew what was happening, Taylor quickly moved to stand behind me, taking me into his arms all at once, and making me gasp and giggle as he held onto me.

"You were saying you wanted some kind of job over here," he said, squeezing me from behind and nuzzling his face into my neck. My back was to his chest and his arms were around my waist. I squeezed his arms, pressing them into me, holding them in place.

"I do want to work here," I said. "Really bad. Who do I go to with my resume?"

"Me," he said. "I make all the decisions around here."

He held me tightly, enveloping me in his big arms. After a week of talking to him on the phone or FaceTime, I was out-of-my-head with the urge to feel his body next to me. I leaned against him relishing the warm feeling of finally being in his arms.

"The thing is," he said before lowering his face to put a kiss on my neck. "I didn't know I was looking for an assistant." He kissed me again after he said that, gently letting his mouth touch the skin on the side of my neck.

My knees were weak from it.

I could barely stand on my own.

I leaned against him for support.

"You are looking for one," I said. "You need me, and you don't even know it."

"I think, my darling Blue, I do know it."

"You do?" I asked tentatively.

He kissed my neck again, and I reached up, letting my hand fall on the side of his face, holding him closer to me. He kissed me again and again. They were playful, gentle kisses. His touch was light, and I felt dizzy with desire.

"You're nervous," he said.

"How do you know?"

"I can feel your pulse… right…" (He put his lips on the side of my neck again.) "…there," he said with his mouth right next to my skin.

"I'm not nervous," I explained. "I'm just… okay, maybe I'm a little nervous. You would be nervous, too, if you were at a bigtime job interview."

I could feel his face move and stretch as he smiled against my neck. "Well, allow me to set your mind at ease," he said, holding me close. "You, Blue Stone, can have any job you want at this establishment. You could just about ask me to sign the whole place over to you and I'd do it."

"I'll take the whole place, then" I said breathlessly.

Taylor let out a fake frustrated sigh, shaking his head and joking around with me like he was about to start looking for a pen to sign over the deed.

I turned in his arms.

"I'm so happy for you," I said, staring up at him. "What you've got here is really amazing." I hugged him—a real hug where I placed the side of my face on his chest and wrapped my arms around him.

He held onto me tightly. I could feel the warmth and firmness of his body through the fabric of our clothing. We stayed there, unmoving for the next two or three minutes, saying literally nothing. It was completely quiet in the room, and yet both of us were content to just stand there and say nothing.

The fact that we were in each other's arms was enough. We had said so much to each other during the last week-and-a-half on the phone or on FaceTime. We had been so entirely all-talk and no-touch that it felt amazing to do the opposite.

The side of my face was resting comfortably on his chest, but I could see the penthouse, and after a while I couldn't resist mentioning how much I loved it again.

"It's so beautiful here," I said.

"You haven't even seen the best parts. You still need to take the grand tour."

"How could there be better parts?" I asked. I pulled back and stared up at him. "The best part of it is right here."

"The living room?"

I shook my head, staring at him. "It's not the suite at all."

"You think it's me?" he asked.

I stared straight into his green eyes.

He loved it that I was less impressed by his things than with him. It was the truth, though. I was being real with him. This whole building could crumble around us, but if I had Taylor, I'd be happy.

"It is you," I said with quiet confidence. "It's most definitely you. You have created a masterpiece here, Taylor. But you, hands down, are the best part of it."

"You are in such terrible trouble, Blue. You're just all the way wrapped up in a bind right now." He said the words so slowly and deliberately that I didn't know what he was going to say it first, and then my smile began to grow when I realized.

"What kind of trouble?" I asked, flirting with him. "What kind of bind?"

"The kind that makes you, just… stuck with me, Blue."

"That sounds like the opposite of trouble to me, Mr. Patterson."

His green stare roamed slowly over my face. "You're making it worse by the second."

I grinned. "Good. I'm trying to."

He pulled back just slightly, focusing more intently on my eyes. "Just so we're on the same page," he said. "Right now, I'm saying that you're getting stuck with me. That's the kind of trouble we're talking about, right?"

I nodded.

"And you're trying to get in that trouble?" he asked.

"I'm trying super hard," I said. "That's what I thought the job interview was about."

"You're… hired…" he whispered the words distractedly as he gazed at me. "You're hired, and you're in trouble, and you're… whatever else we said."

"I want to live here with you," I said.

I felt nervous and I squirmed, shifting and squeezing him. He moved to the side, catching my eye.

"Blue, I want you to be mine," he said. "If anything, I'm the one who feels like I'm being interviewed. I want you to be mine for the rest of our lives. You living here with me seems like the best possible scenario I could ever imagine. I can't think of anything better than that."

"Because I want to," I said. "I want to help you—to be a part of this place. I think I could stand by you. I want to do that."

He stared at me. "I move in after Thanksgiving. You should come with me."

I knew his plan. The hotel wouldn't open until January, but he would move into the suite beforehand. The penthouses and rooftop would be completely done by then, and moving in meant he could more efficiently prep everything for the opening.

It was currently the end of September.

This meant he would be moving in two months. I had no idea if he was being serious or not about me moving in with him. I knew marriage would precede a move, therefore, part of me thought it was a slightly empty offer—like maybe he was just saying it to be nice.

"Too fast?" he asked when I got lost in thought. "I'll be patient."

"No, no, not too fast. I was just thinking, wondering if you were serious or not. I mean, I know we would want to get marri—"

"I am eight-hundred percent serious," he said. "I am as serious as you can get."

"I know, but we were talking about marriage, and—"

"I know," he said, nodding and cutting me off again. "And I know it's a lot to think about. But I just want you to know I'm ready to have that conversation when you are. I can't imagine being okay with just trying to see you on the weekends."

"That would be pretty terrible, huh?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Taylor." I said his name while I stared at him, and he tilted his face at me.

"Yeah?" he said.

"I…"

I wanted so badly to say that I loved him. I said it to him on the phone right before he left on his flight to California. I hadn't planned on saying it then, but I always got nervous with airplane travel, and the words just came out of my mouth.

He had returned the sentiment on the phone, but it felt different in person. The thing was, I did love him. Maybe it was fast for some people, and maybe a few years ago, or even a few months, I would have said I didn't believe it was possible to love like this—so quickly and intensely. But things were different now.

My mom always said 'you better keep your words soft and sweet because you never know when you might have to eat them'. Sure enough, I had gone from skeptic to believer when it came to love. There was such a thing as someone who was just meant for me, and that person was Taylor Patterson.

I knew it down in my soul.

His smile grew as he stared at me.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"You. You said my name and then you started to say something but then you started spacing out."

"I was thinking about how I wanted to say it, but then I got shy."

"Say what?" he asked.

"That I love you," I whispered, running my fingertips through the hair above his ear.

"That you what?" he asked, lowering his ear to me like he wanted me to repeat it.

I stretched upward, putting my mouth right next to his. He leaned in, thinking I was going to kiss him, but I stopped just shy of his mouth, letting mine linger next to him. "Just that I… love… you…"

"Guess what?" He was in no hurry when he whispered the words back to me.

"What?" I asked. "You love me too?"

"Yes, I do," he said, his lips were so close to mine that I could feel the warmth his breath as he spoke.

I leaned back in his arms, pulling him toward me, and causing our mouths to finally meet.

Things had changed between us since the last time we kissed. I felt really serious about him now. I honestly couldn’t see anyone else in my life. I honest to goodness believed we would be together forever.

It was with this assuredness that I gave myself over to him in that kiss.

I began kissing him softly, tenderly, letting our mouths meet time after time in little wet caresses. His kiss was like sugar on my lips. He did it again, and this time, he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. The warm slickness of it caused me to lean into him even more, and he deepened the kiss for a second before he pulled back, barely breaking contact.

"I have been waiting for this all week," he whispered next to my mouth. "I felt like I would go crazy waiting."

"Waiting for what?" I asked, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

And then, Taylor Patterson kissed me.

He kissed me better than I've ever been kissed. He pulled me close and covered me with his warm mouth. He took control, kissing me deeply for a minute before pulling back and smiling at me. He kissed me again after that, and then again and again.

We stood in that living room and talked and embraced for at least an hour.

We didn't even bother sitting on the couch.

Maybe we would have gotten ourselves into trouble sitting on the couch. Maybe he knew that.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed (I thought at least an hour) when Taylor said, "I'm sorry, baby girl, but my phone is blowing up. I hate this, but I need to look at it."

I nodded before placing one last chaste kiss on his cheek. I turned and pointed toward the hall as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Do you mind if I look around?" I asked. I didn't want to get in the way of his business or crowd his space when he was trying to talk on the phone, so I thought I could show myself around.

Taylor didn’t answer my question. "It's your dad," he said, pushing buttons on his phone. "Hang on. I think your dad might be here." He was speaking in a choppy tone as he read whatever was on his screen. "Hold on," he said again. "I'm gonna try to call him. I think he's trying to get into the hotel."

He put his phone to his ear, and I waited, listening to hear what he would say.

Chapter 18

Taylor was apparently calling my father.

I really didn't get much information other than that, and I was somewhat confused.

"Hey, this is Taylor," he said, smiling as he stared at the floor.

He was quiet as he listened to the person I assumed was my dad on the other end.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry. We're here."

He widened his eyes at me as he listened to my dad on the other end. I widened my eyes back at him, asking him what was wrong even though I knew he wouldn't answer me right away. He smiled in such a way that let me know everything was okay.

"She's right here. We're here at the hotel, we just didn't have our phones on us."

He paused again, listening to whatever Dad was saying.

"Oh, goodness. Yeah, we're on our way," Taylor said nodding. "We'll meet you downstairs at the front door."

Taylor looked at me as he pushed the button to disconnect. "I guess your parents are on the run from some of his fans," he said.

"On the run?" I asked. "My parents?"

Everything about that statement was wrong.

"Come on," Taylor said, pulling me by the hand. "They're fine. Everything's fine. We've got to go let them in the front door. "I'll tell you on the way down there."

I went with Taylor out the door and toward the elevator. We headed to the main one since it was a little closer.

"Your mom and dad were having coffee down the street and some women recognized your dad and started following them. I guess there's a few of them, just kind of pestering your dad—trying to get his picture and everything. He was laughing, so I know he's fine."

Taylor reached out to push the button for the elevator. It only took a few seconds for the doors to open. It was easily twice the size of the private one, but it was equally as beautiful—ornamented with marble, wood, and bronze.

I didn't really take it in because I was so confused. Two things were wrong with this scenario, and they were really big things.

One, my dad never got chased around.

He never even went anywhere without a driver and Nick or one of the other guys. He had been in the game long enough to know he got recognized when he went out in public. He knew how to avoid being followed.

The second and most important wrong thing was that my parents didn't hang out.

They never hung out.

They saw each other in passing when necessary over the years, but there was never any coffee shared.

This was the second time recently.

I was thinking about all of this as we moved downward in the elevator.

Taylor reached out and grabbed my hand, and I took his gratefully, snuggling into his arm and holding onto him with both hands.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I was just thinking about my parents. Are you sure Dad said he was with my mom?"

"He said 'Kim'," Taylor said. "And then, he referred to her as 'Blue's mom', so I think that sort of narrows it down to her."

I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Yeah, I think so," I agreed.

He reached up and touched my chin with his other hand, and as I shifted to look at him, he lowered his face to kiss me. The soft, sweet display of love made me smile. It was a great relief to realize that none of my questions or worries about my parents were great enough to overshadow Taylor's kiss. It didn't matter what my parents were doing as long as they weren't in any kind of danger.

I smiled at Taylor. "You're the best," I said. I meant it. I felt totally safe and secure by his side. I wanted to ride up and down this elevator with him for the rest of my life. It dinged and we stepped off and into the lobby. We had to go around the corner to get to the lobby. I half-expected my parents to be standing at one of the windows or even inside the hotel, but they were nowhere in sight.

There was a huge revolving door with swinging doors on each side. They were all made of glass, but the windows were lined with fancy paper that said Coming Soon and Patterson Place Beverly Hills in repeating lines. It was nicely done—brown paper bag color paper with black and gold print. I thought about getting a picture in front of it when we drove by earlier, but I didn't.

Taylor walked right up to the paper-covered revolving doors. I had no idea what he was doing. I was about to ask him that exact question when he leaned in, speaking close to the door.

"Are you on this side?" he yelled.

I was standing close to the door, but I glanced at Barb and Steven who were in earshot and had looked up from their work when they heard Taylor. They were a ways off, but their movement caught my eye, and I made eye contact with Barb, both of us smiling before she forced herself to glance away.

"Yeah, we're here." My dad's voice came from the other side of the door, causing me to experience a wave of panic.

"The revolving door is missing a component, so it's gotta stay locked," Taylor said. "I'm opening the door right next to you, though."

I watched as Taylor walked the few steps from the revolving doors and unlocked the regular glass door that was right beside it. It was also covered in paper. My parents came in, one behind the other, laughing and shaking their heads as Taylor closed and locked the door behind them.

They were giggling like teenagers.

They might as well have been holding hands.

I scowled at them, unable to reconcile these people with the same Alec and Kim who brought me into this world. Individually, they were both prone to lightheartedness, but for as long as I could remember, they were all-business when they were around each other—cordial and quick. Distant.

Mom wiped the corners of her eyes like she'd been laughing so much she cried. She slapped Dad's shoulder playfully. "Alec Charles, I cannot believe you're fifty-five years old and you still have women crying over you like you're Justin Bieber."

First of all, she was using his middle name. Second, she was teasing him. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was flirting. She went to poke at him, and I watched as Dad caught her hand in mid-air.

"You're the one who insisted we go for coffee," he said.

Taylor, seeing that I was transfixed by my parents, took a step closer to me and reached out to hold my hand. I glanced at him, feeling thankful for the distraction. I smiled and gave him my hand, stepping closer to him. Mom and Dad saw us moving, and they both stopped what they were doing and glanced our way as if noticing us for the first time.

"Hello," Mom said still grinning. "Sorry we had to bother you." Her eyes left us, beginning to roam all over the room as she took in her surroundings. "This is absolutely gorgeous, though, Taylor. I’m so glad we came by." She looked at Dad with wide eyes. "See? I told you they were here," she said. She looked up. "Oh my gosh, it's so worth it to come by here. This place is amazing."

"Your mother had me running down the sidewalk and an alley, and then through a building to get here," Dad said, explaining the situation.

"The better question is how did you two end up at the same place at the same time?" I gestured to their feet to indicate their physical proximity.

They both pointed at each other.

"Really, it was Violet," Mom said. "She had asked your dad to come by, and Indie and me were still over at her house when he got there." Mom glanced at dad, who nodded letting her know the story was straight so far. Mom gestured around her. "Then, your dad said he hadn't seen this place, so I told him I knew where it was and would bring him by. And then... I wanted a cup of coffee, so we went to that café down the street… and we were gonna walk over here to see the place after, but…" she hesitated, looking at Dad. "And long story short, two women became four or five. They followed us around the block and through a bookstore. I think they got a few pictures of your dad and me together, but it was all fake. We kind of stood together, and... we were just messing around, trying to act like we were having a moment so they'd leave us alone."

"Wait, we were just messing around when we did that?" Dad asked with a scowl.

This joke caused my mother to shake her head and roll her eyes at him before bumping into him with her shoulder.

I just stared at them, unblinking.

"So then, finally," Dad said. "We came around the corner and ducked in between those doors out there, and that's where we lost them. We stayed in there till you called us back. If that paper wouldn't have been on the doors, we might still be running."

"It would have been better if they were open," Mom said. "Then we could have just come into the hotel and gotten lost in Taylor's office or something… or upstairs in his penthouse." She laughed. "Even behind the front desk would do."

"I thought you were enjoying being wedged behind a non-moving rotating door with me," Dad said.

"I'm not saying it was terrible," Mom said. "I'm just saying… it would have been better if the door was open and the place was operating."

Dad shrugged, unconvinced before looking around. "This is awesome, Taylor. I wasn't expecting it to be quite so, uh, fancy, I guess. That's not the word I'm looking for… I was gonna say 'nice' but that's not right, either. It's awesome, it really is. Old school."

"It is old school," I heard a voice say.

We all glanced over at Barb and Steven, who were on the other side of the lobby, both looking at us wearing concerned, guilty expressions like they were mortified with themselves for interrupting.

"I always tell Barb how 'old school' this place is," Steven said, still speaking loudly from the other side of the grand room. He and Barb started walking toward us. "I didn't mean to… I know you were just getting hassled, and I don't mean to… I just overheard and I… anyway, Barb and I both thought you were Alec Stone's daughter earlier when Taylor introduced us to you, and we almost said something then, but…"

"We're huge fans," Barb explained reluctantly, shaking her head. "We've seen you guys play about eight times, and we're just big supporters. We have been for years. We pre-order all your albums and everything."

"Yeah," Steven said. "We got married to one of your songs."

Barb glared at him. "We didn't get married to it," she said. "You don't get married to a song. We danced to it at our wedding," she explained. "It was our first dance."

"Seriously, it's an honor," Steven said with a shrug. "A real dream come true."

Dad stuck his arm out to shake Steven's hand, and he nodded and bowed tentatively as he approached.

"It's something we can take off our bucket list, huh, Barb?"

His words were breathy and he was shaking. I had seen quite a few people in this condition as a result of meeting my dad.

"I don't know if I can live up to all that," Dad said, smiling. We all watched as he greeted both of them, shaking both of their hands and asking their names. They were trying to play it cool, but I could tell they were huge fans. They were both shaking and Barb had tears in her eyes.

"Barb and Steven own the company doing our interior paint and wallpaper," Taylor explained. "They're wallpaper experts."

"It looks really beautiful," Mom said, looking around. "You've done a great job."

"Hi, Miss Kim," Barb said, barely making eye contact with my mom. "Thank you for saying that, it means a lot coming from you. I always thought you two were the best couple. And your girls all turned out so pretty. I love their names, too. We named our dog Indigo because we liked it so much."

She bowed and kind of ducked behind her husband, looking worried like that might have been the wrong thing to say.

"I'll have to tell Indie she had a furry namesake," Mom said with a smile.

We spoke to Barb and Steven for a few more minutes before heading up the elevator. Taylor had told my parents each separately about the hotel—how he customized all the rooms and how each floor had a different feel.

My parents wanted to see everything floor by floor, but they settled for going straight to the penthouse since Taylor didn’t know exactly where all the other crews were working at the moment.

The four of us got settled in the elevator—my parents on one side, and Taylor and me on the other, all of us facing each other.

"I have not run that much in a long time," Dad said, smiling and shaking his head at me and Taylor.

"I haven't laughed that much in a long time," Mom said. "My face hurts." She looked straight at me. "We tried to call you like ten times," she added. "I told Dad you never have your phone turned on. Finally, Dad thought of calling Taylor. He promised he always answers, and even that was a fail. That was hilarious. We called him from the street, thinking for sure he would answer and we'd be saved. Then, it went to his voicemail and your dad looked at me with those sad eyes like we were doomed."

They both laughed.

"I try to answer calls if I can," Taylor said. "I'm sorry I couldn't pick up."

The elevator door opened as he was speaking and my parents moved to get off.

"That's okay," Dad said, smiling. "We were only in danger for our lives."

They got off the elevator behind us, and Taylor glanced at me as we led the way. "I'm not sorry about why I couldn't pick up," he whispered where only I could hear.

Chapter 19

Roughly a month later.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant trick-or-treating would be busier than ever at my mom's. This was saying something because it was a huge holiday in her neighborhood as it was. She lived in a large, gated community with lots of young families. There were lots of kids in the neighborhood to begin with, but there were even more for trick-or-treating. Every house gave out candy, and all of them gave the good stuff.

There wasn't a rule about it, but no one really got into the horror side of things around here. There were always a few monsters, but it was basically just a family-friendly block party where we all dressed in funny costumes. Everyone in the subdivision brought their grandkids, cousins, and friends for the event. Each year there were so many people walking the streets that it was difficult to get through in a vehicle.

My mom always got really into it.

She didn't hold back or try to cut costs when it came to choosing the candy she bought or her costume. She rented top-of-the-line, stage-worthy costumes—none of this stuff you can pick up in a plastic bag from the store.

Most of the time, my sisters and I dressed up with her, and most of the time, our costumes were the cheap ones that we bought at the last minute.

I had actually put a little thought into my costume this year. It was still one of the cheap ones from a department store, but I did try it on to make sure it fit.

"A bride?" Mom asked as I came down the stairs into the living room.

No one in my family had seen my costume, and they began commenting all at once. I smiled and nodded, twirling for them at the bottom of the stairs.

I would never in a million years choose this actual dress for my wedding. It was like one of those plastic Barbie dresses, and it came with a little veil and a bouquet of plastic flowers.

"It's because she wants to marry Taylor," Indie said, teasing me from the living room.

I made a face and shrugged playfully like so what.

"I thought Taylor was coming," Kai said.

I nodded. "He is. He's on his way."

Indie, Kai, and Leo were dressed in circus-themed costumes. Leo was still a little young to have a real opinion about what he wanted to be for Halloween, so my sister had talked him into being a lion since it went with his name.

My sister and Kai were dressed as lion-tamers. Indie had shown me their costumes already, so it wasn't a surprise. I acted like it was, though, flinching and squealing like I was afraid of the fierce lion when he came up to growl at me. Leo cracked up at my reaction, and I chased him away with my hands out like I was going to tickle him.

"Nice costume Blue," Vi said, yelling at me from the kitchen.

"You too, Mulan," I said, smiling at her. She had gone with my mother to the costume shop this year and had rented a gorgeous samurai costume complete with an authentic looking sword.

Vi did some kind of pre-planned hand gesture combined with a bow when I complimented her, which made me laugh.

"You too, Mom," I said. "You look really good."

She was also in character when she thanked me, giving me a silent, gracious nod and looking every bit the historical queen she was dressed as. She had beautiful, complex dress, a huge wig, a velvet cape, and a scepter.

"Mom bought three-hundred packs of Big League Chew," Vi said.

I acted a little surprised even though I already knew.

"I hope that's enough," Indie said, looking out the window at the crowd that was already growing on the street. "It's packed out there."

"I have other candy for back-up," Mom said. "It is packed. Taylor's having trouble getting through on Myrtle. He had to go around."

My head whipped around and I regarded Mom when she said that… how would she know where Taylor was or what kind of traffic problems he was having? I was about to ask her that, but just then the door opened, and I turned to find Taylor standing there. He wasn't alone. If he had been, he likely would have knocked on the door rather than opening it.

There he was, looking like a dream come true, a scene from a movie, an A-list Hollywood actor on the red carpet. And standing next to him was Captain Jack Sparrow.

It was a good costume with dreadlocks and eyeliner and everything. If I didn't know my dad so well, I never would have recognized him—he looked just like the real pirate from the movie. My dad came into the room like nothing was abnormal about him being there. "Yo, ho, ho!" he yelled, lumbering toward Leo, who squealed and ran through the living room.

All of us headed toward the door as Taylor came inside and closed it behind himself.

"It's a madhouse out there," Taylor said, smiling at me with wide eyes when I walked up to him. I came to his side and he put an arm around me, leaning down to kiss the side of my forehead through the veil. I breathed in the woodsy smell of his cologne before pulling back to look at him. His costume had not come from a plastic bag. He was wearing a tuxedo, and it was one hundred percent real, tailored and fitting him like a glove. He looked like a prince, a billionaire movie-star, a famous Hollywood hunk.

His hair was meticulously styled and there wasn't a thing out of place. I felt alive with desire and attraction as I snuggled up to him and was thankful when he squeezed me back.

"Mom didn't tell us you were coming." Vi's statement was directed toward my dad. He had captured the little lion and was now holding him. Leo was intently focused on my dad, staring at his face and wig with wide eyes as he held onto one of the dreadlocks.

"It's just paw-paw," Dad assured him sweetly.

"Why's paw-paw here?" Violet asked, looking at my mom with a stunned expression.

She wasn't being rude or anything, she just hadn't expected him to come. None of us had—except for Mom and Taylor, obviously.

Mom shrugged. "He hitched a ride with Taylor. We figured he could come over and take Leo trick-or-treating. He didn't get to see him dress up last year."

"Nice costume," Kai said, going over to high-five my dad. "Thanks, you too," dad said. He reached out to hug Indie who had walked up to them. "Are y'all some kind of performers?"

"Lion-tamers," Kai said.

"Get it?" Indie asked, gesturing to Leo.

"Ahhh," Dad said, nodding.

Leo reached for Indie, and Dad handed him over to her.

"Nice," Dad said. "You guys have a whole theme going. I like it."

He looked at Vi. "And here's an Asian warrior of some kind…" he said, hesitating as if he wasn't sure of himself.

"Samurai," Vi said, looking dead serious and doing that same bow with a hand gesture, which made Dad laugh and bow back at her.

"And, of course, the queen," Dad said, moving down the line to my mother who gave him a solemn, queenly nod and extended her scepter. Dad took her hand (even though she wasn't really offering it) and kissed it. "My lady."

"Your majesty," Mom corrected.

"Pardon me, your majesty."

"I don't make a habit of letting pirates come this close," Mom said.

Dad grinned. "You can make an exception for this pirate, can't you?"

Mom gave him a coy shrug, and Dad turned to focus on me since I was the only one he hadn't talked to. He walked my way, and I let go of Taylor long enough to hug him.

"I'm happy you came," I said. "You look just like Johnny Depp."

"Who’s Johnny Depp?" Dad asked looking offended and making me laugh. "A pirate, I mean. You're a really natural looking pirate."

Dad smiled squeezing my shoulders. He gestured to Taylor. "I assumed Taylor was just trying to look good for the occasion—I thought he got mixed up and thought we were just going to a black-tie affair, but now I get it. I see what y'all did. Bride and groom, huh?"

"Oh, I get it," Vi said, nodding as she stared at us.

"You look good like that," Indie said. "You should do it for real."

"Yeah, you should just go ahead and get married," Kai added.

"We are," I said. "I held up my hand, flashing the very real diamond engagement ring. Taylor had given it to me a couple of days before. We thought about telling my family the news right when it happened, but we kept it to ourselves. We planned our costumes (based on knowing Taylor already had a tux he could wear) and I thought it would be funny to let them figure it out on their own once they saw us dressed like that.

"Wait a minute," Mom said, coming toward us with renewed interest and trading her queen's demeanor for motherly curiosity. "Are you serious right now? Is this real, Blue?"

She approached me with her hand out like she wanted to see my ring. My hand was shaking as I held my hand out for her to inspect. She gasped, and everyone else gathered around, coming closer to us.

"Blue, are you serious? This is so beautiful, baby." She stared at me utterly stunned, and I smiled and nodded at her. She was surprised and sincere, but I couldn't help but find humor in the whole scene with all of us in costumes.

Mom's powdered wig and crown were huge, and her costume and makeup was completely accurate for the time period, so everything felt a bit surreal. Taylor was still standing next to me, and I reached out with my other hand to hold onto Taylor.

"Are you getting married right here? Tonight?" Violet asked, seeing us make contact.

"Oh, my goodness, no," I said. "I wanted to surprise you guys, but not that much. We just wanted to tell you he asked me. Of course we're not doing it tonight. I didn’t even know Dad would be here."

"So, this is a real ring?" Indie asked, reaching out for my hand.

I nodded as I let her see. Violet stepped forward, looking at it from over Indie's shoulder.

"It better be, huh, Taylor," Dad said, joking with Taylor about how much it must have cost. "I knew about it before all of y'all did," he added, proudly as he checked out the candy Mom had bought.

We all turned to look at him, and he shrugged.

"I knew before Blue did," he said.

"How?" I asked instantly.

Dad gestured at Taylor. "Because Taylor came to me and asked my permission to ask you," he said.

I looked at Taylor, who just gave a little shrug before leaning in to kiss me. Mom let out a whimper at the sight of us.

"Oh, my goodness. I can't believe it. My baby girl. Is this for real? Have you talked about setting a date? When are you thinking about—"

"We're doing it next month," I said before she could say anything else. "Taylor's moving into the hotel after Thanksgiving, and I'll be going with him. That way I can help him with the opening and we can focus on that. We won't do anything big. Probably just friends and family at Dad's house or maybe even the hotel. We're talking about it."

"So, you're moving into the hotel with him after Thanksgiving, and you're getting married before that?" Mom asked, still a little stunned.

I nodded. I knew this was all a little shocking to them, but I had never been more confident or sure about anything in my life.

"And you're wearing a different dress than this one, right?" Vi asked numbly, causing us all to laugh.

"I'd marry her in this," Taylor said, looking at me.

"Oh, no you won't," I promised, staring at him through that plastic veil. It was a little broken, which made it even funnier.

"I knew you two were gonna get married," Kai said.

"I knew it too" Dad said.

"Yeah, because he called you," Vi said.

"No, no before that," Dad said. "I knew it from way back. I called it back in Boston. You can ask Nick."

"Well, I, for one, could not be happier," Mom announced.

She said it boldly and with a slight English accent that made us all look at her. It was with a completely serious expression that she closed her eyes and gave Taylor and me a nod. "You have the blessing of the queen," she announced dramatically, making us all laugh.

Then, the sound of the doorbell caused us to look at each other with wide eyes.

"The trick-or-treaters are here!" Dad announced in a silly voice, raising his eyebrows as he zeroed in on Leo.

My nephew didn't even really know what that meant, but he shrieked with excitement and wiggled in his mother's arms.

"I thought it wasn't supposed to start till six," Indie said.

There was a clock on the wall that clearly stated it was 5:45.

"Once the sun goes down, it's a free-for-all out there," Vi said.

She stooped down and grabbed several bags of Big League Chew, tossing one to my father as they went to answer the door.

Chapter 20

Roughly another month later.

Thanksgiving was my marker.

Our wedding was planned for the first of December, and I just kept thinking once Thanksgiving rolls around, the big day will be right around the corner.

The weeks passed quickly.

My days were full, so each one seemed to pass slowly, but now that I was on the other side, looking back, I realized that the whole chunk of time went faster than I thought.

I continued working with investments, but most of my days were spent helping Taylor prepare the hotel for opening. My dad's house was much closer to the hotel than Mom's, so I spent nights there and made the short drive into Beverly Hills every day.

Taylor moved into the suite a week before Thanksgiving, and even though I hadn't moved in yet, I still considered it my home.

It was incredibly difficult to leave him every night. We got the place all situated how we wanted with art, furniture, and accessories, and after a long day of working in the hotel, we would snuggle up on the couch and watch a movie together. It was so comfortable that I dreaded leaving him every night. I absolutely couldn’t wait to marry him.

I didn't have to wait any longer because tonight was the night.

It was official.

As of about two hours ago, my new name was Mrs. Blue Patterson, and I was now truly the lady of the place—the lady of our beautiful hotel. I couldn't think of any role I'd rather play in life.

We decided to have the wedding at the hotel, which only added to the sentimental feeling of it all. We tried to do it small, but we kept thinking of people we didn't want to leave out, so there ended up being about a hundred and fifty guests.

We did the wedding and reception right there at the hotel, and I had absolutely no regrets about it. Everything was beautiful—the stuff of fairytales. My dad would have paid for a really elaborate wedding in some exotic location, but Taylor and I both loved the idea of doing it at the hotel.

Dad spent money on decorations and catering, and everything was absolutely beautiful. The hotel was gorgeous anyway, but the planner my dad hired had transformed it into a scene fit for a movie.

We had the ceremony and reception in the ballroom, which was on the first floor. In addition to a few guest rooms, the sixth floor had some common areas such as the pool, a small theater, and a conference room. We opened the whole floor for guests to tour after the wedding since we knew they'd be curious about the rest of the hotel.

The other floors still had some small finishing projects going and were locked for the occasion. Guests had come in through the grand lobby, making their way into the ballroom.

My dad walked me down the aisle, and I cried the whole time. I honestly couldn’t believe the way my life had changed.

I never knew I wanted to own a boutique hotel, but walking down that aisle in our gorgeous, marble-floored ballroom felt like the most natural thing in the world. Taylor was wearing a sleek grey tux that absolutely took my breath away. I honestly had a hard time looking at him. My dress was simple and comfortable but elegant—straight cut with a little flair at the bottom with long sleeves that were made of lace.

After the short ceremony, we sat for dinner. My dad had a few of his musician friends playing live music while we ate. They played quiet jazz tunes during dinner, but I knew they were about to kick it up a notch now that we were finished eating and everyone was ready to dance. Taylor had just excused himself to use the restroom when my dad got up to make a speech.

I knew he had planned on saying a few words, but it wasn't the time we had talked about, and I hated that he chose to do it right when Taylor walked out. I tried to tell him with my eyes that he should wait, but he didn't understand what I was saying, and he just kept talking.

"I am unbelievably happy to be here tonight," he said into the microphone. "Blue is my baby girl, and it's a trip to see her all grown up and looking so beautiful as a bride."

Everyone cheered, and I smiled and waved shyly when my dad gestured to me. I hated that Taylor wasn't by my side—not only because I didn't want him to miss my dad's speech, but also because I missed his presence next to me. He made me feel secure, and I wished he would get back soon.

"When Blue was little, I would sing to her. I sang constantly to all my girls, but Blue tolerated it best. She would just sit there and listen to me, watching me with that huge smile like she thought I had hung the moon. She was the best audience ever—so sweet and easy to please. She wouldn't even skip a beat when I hit a wrong note or got out of breath from dancing around too much."

Everyone laughed, and Dad paused and looked at me.

"There was one song that was off limits, though. Do you remember that?"

I closed my eyes and shook my head, smiling, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"Blue was probably six or seven years old at the time. For years, all her life, I had been serenading her, and all of a sudden, there was this one song that she wouldn't let me sing to her. She looked at me funny the first couple of times I sang it, and then finally, she just shook her head right when I started, denying me. I'd say, 'what's wrong, baby girl, don't you like that song…' and do you remember what you said?"

Dad paused, waiting for me to answer. I just smiled and nodded at him. He knew I knew what he was talking about.

"It was the one song she wouldn't let me sing. She said 'only my husband can sing that to me, daddy,'."

He said the last part in a feminine baby voice that made everyone laugh. I was so young that I barely remembered saying it, but my father had brought it up over the years, so I knew he was telling the truth.

"So, fast forward twenty years later. I'm on a trip to Boston I meet a young man by the name of Taylor Patterson. I knew even before Blue did that something was going to happen between the two of them. I barely knew Taylor when I first heard him sing. He was being silly, and he sang the chorus of Reckless to me in my hotel room. Right then, I thought about this very moment."

I started to get nervous as Dad's words hit me. I felt like something was about to happen, but I didn't know what.

"Anyway," Dad continued. "I asked him not to sing in front of Blue at all. I told him to do me a favor and not even tell her we had that conversation. Somehow, I saw this day coming, and I wanted her to have no idea. So, Baby-Blue, here he is… your husband, and the only man who can sing you this song."

I was already tearing up when the lights went down and spotlights fell on the small stage. I hadn't even seen Taylor go over there. I was completely shocked. I covered my face with my hands, peeking out from behind my fingers. I knew what song it would be before he even hit the first note.

Sugar,

Ah honey, honey,

You are my candy girl,

And you got me wanting you.

Honey,

Ah sugar, sugar,

You are my candy girl,

And you got me wanting you.

Taylor's singing voice left me stunned.

It was just like his speaking voice, so it shouldn't have surprised me that it sounded good, but the boy could sing. I had spent countless hours with Taylor, and I had no idea. He was smiling at me from the stage, looking confident and sure of himself like singing into a microphone on a stage was something he did every day.

I just can't believe the loveliness of loving you.

(I just can't believe it's true.)

I just can't believe the wonder of this feeling, too.

(I just can't believe it's true.)

Shocked.

Stunned.

Bewildered.

Overwhelmed.

In those seconds, I could not believe what I was hearing. The entire crowd joined in during the echo segment. The whole room was singing along—even the people right next to me. It was loud and very planned, and I cried instantly.

I had to blink to clear my vision.

Taylor smiled.

Ah, Sugar,

Ah, honey, honey,

You are my candy girl,

And you got me wanting you.

Oh, honey,

Ah, sugar, sugar,

You are my candy girl,

And you got me wanting you.

When I kissed you girl, I knew how sweet a kiss could be.

(I knew how sweet a kiss could be.)

Like the summer sunshine, Pour your sweetness over me.

(Pour your sweetness over me.)

Taylor went on singing, and the crowd went right on singing with him. All of them.

Oh, sugar,

(Pour a little sugar on it honey,

Pour a little sugar on it, baby.

She's gonna make your life so sweet.)

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I watched in absolute awe as everyone finished the song with Taylor. He could seriously sing. I couldn’t believe it. He sounded good. He left the microphone on the stage, and headed toward me as the band continued to play the outro and the crowd sang along….

(Oh, honey, honey, sugar, sugar.

Honey, honey, sugar, sugar.)

I got out of my chair, and ran to Taylor, meeting him in front of our table on the dancefloor. I absolutely flung myself into his arms.

I had tears in my eyes as I stared up at him. He was incredibly dashing—his grey-silver jacket unbuttoned showing the fitted vest.

We smiled at each other as I tried to focus through the tears. I was vaguely aware of the people around us still singing, or even whistling as the band continued to play, but it seemed like that was all in the distant background. It may as well have been just the two of us standing there. Taylor smiled and bent to kiss me, and everyone went nuts. I could smell the faint smell of sweat from his exertion on the stage, and it made my insides melt.

"I can't believe you can sing," I said, looking straight at him.

"That was hard to keep from you," he said. "Not that I'm great or anything, but I do like to walk around singing in my own house when I feel like it, and I had to keep it in. Your dad told me too."

I just stared at his handsome face, wondering how in the world they pulled all this off where everyone sang along. I was still shaking with nerves and adrenaline.

"How'd you get everyone to sing with you?" I asked.

"Your mom and dad set all that up."

Taylor and I were just standing there, holding onto each other and talking when the band began playing a different song.

It was the song we had chosen for our first dance, a song called You Are the Best Thing by Ray LaMontagne. Cameras flashed and I saw some movement from our periphery, but really, all I could see or think about was Taylor.

The song was right.

He really was the best thing.

This was the best thing.

There was nothing that could make it better.

***

The next few hours passed in a blur.

We shared some priceless time with our friends and family. We danced, laughed, made toasts, and showed everyone around the hotel (at least the first and sixth floors). It was a little taste of what our life would be like being the owners of this place, and I honestly couldn't wait.

I was happy that there was a God who had perfect plans for me—plans that I couldn’t have even come up with myself. Not long ago, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life, and just like that, it was now laid out in front of me. I was so thankful for a man who could bring me closer to who I was—closer to God.

I knew running the hotel would be a lot of hard work. I knew life wasn't always easy.

But, in this moment, everything was easy.

In this moment, everything was perfect.

Chapter 21

Taylor and I had plans to spend a couple of weeks touring Europe for our honeymoon, but that wouldn't take place for a while—a year, to be more precise.

For now, we would focus all of our efforts on making the hotel's grand opening a success. We would relax and enjoy our vacation in a year once we knew we were leaving the place in capable hands.

To some, it might seem like a sacrifice, but I honestly didn't mind doing things differently than most couples. I wasn't sad that I wasn't going on a honeymoon right away… in fact, it was my idea. Taylor would have been willing to make time for a trip, but I just didn't think it was necessary right now.

So, Europe would have to wait.

We would, however, for the next three days, not leave our suite or allow interruptions of any kind.

Progress would still be happening at the hotel, but Taylor's general contractor and designer had been notified that he would officially be unavailable. I knew he and I would go downstairs and roam around once the crews left every evening, but it was wonderful knowing that, for a specified amount of time, we would be able to give each other our full attention. No interruptions.

That specified amount of time officially began tonight—right now—in just a few minutes.

Aside from the wedding planner and clean-up crew, my sisters were the last people at the hotel when the wedding was over. Taylor's family had just gone home, leaving Violet, Indie, Kai, and Leo as our last guests.

My dad had to pretend to be one of the first people to leave, otherwise no one would have gone home at all. It had always been that way. If my dad stuck around at an event, other people did too—even at things like this where it was family and friends. We were all used to it by now. When it was time for people to start leaving, Taylor gave Dad the keys to the guest penthouse, and Dad took refuge up there for about an hour while we sent everyone else on their way. Mom snuck away with him so he wouldn't be alone, and everyone assumed they had both gone home.

Taylor went to have a word with the clean-up crew while I went upstairs with my sisters to retrieve our hiding parents. Leo was so exhausted that he was all-but passed out on Kai's shoulder.

"Who's picking Dad up?" I asked on our way up the elevator.

I hadn't concerned myself with any of those types of details today, but it dawned on me to ask since I knew none of his guys were downstairs waiting.

"I'm giving him a ride home," Vi said. "He had a driver bring him to my house earlier, but I told him I'd just take him to his house afterward. We're parked down by that private entrance. Taylor told us where to go."

"How'd you guys get here?" I asked Indie.

"We rode with Mom," she said. "We parked right by Vi and Dad, so we'll walk out together. We're all gonna head home as soon as we go get Mom and Dad. I know you're probably anxious for some alone time, so we'll get out of your way."

"It really was a great wedding," Vi said.

I smiled tiredly. "Thank you. I feel so happy." My mind was so full that it was difficult to think of what else to say. I glanced at my sleepy nephew, rubbing his back.

"Somebody's gonna sleep on the way home," Kai said, filling the silence.

The elevator let us off on the penthouse level, and we walked to the guest suite instead of mine and Taylor's. I knew Taylor had given Dad access to that one. I had a universal keycard in my hand, and I used it to access the room. We all went inside with Indie leading the way.

"Hello?" Indie yelled. "Party's over kids! We gotta hit the road, Jacks. Oh, snap. Oh, no. Oh, my gosh."

Indie stopped walking, and we all basically bumped into her.

"What?" Violet asked, trying to locate what Indie had seen. My first thought was that something had happened with one of our parents.

Indie looked at us with her hands out like everything was fine and we shouldn't panic. "It's fine… it's just that I thought it was just Dad standing out there by himself because I didn't see Mom, but then I realized she was standing too close to…" she trailed off, turning and pointing to the windows that overlooked the pool area. We all looked that way, focusing on the patio.

There they were.

Mom and Dad.

They were standing so close that it might as well have been one person. You had to really inspect them to tell she was there at all. They were at the edge of the patio, gazing over the rail. His arms were around her, and they were both facing out with her back to his chest.

I felt happy and anxious all at the same time.

My parents had obviously loved each other once upon a time, but that was so long ago that my brain couldn't quite comprehend seeing them embracing like they were. Dad had hurt mom in the past, and I felt instantly anxious for her.

"Maybe she was cold," I said as we all stood there, staring at them through the window.

Violet walked over to the sliding glass door, and opened it without hesitation. "We're ready!" she yelled, pretending not to notice their proximity to each other. "Blue's ready to get on with her evening."

I expected them to jump and separate at the sudden interruption, but they didn't do that. My dad turned around slowly, but it was just his face not his whole body. I saw him smile casually and say something to Vi, but I couldn’t hear him from where I was standing.

"Yes, we have to," Vi answered. "Everyone's gone. Taylor's wrapping things up downstairs, and then he's on his way up. Plus, Leo's falling asleep. Mom and Indie need to get on the road."

I knew Dad heard Violet, because he gave her a little nod. We all stood in the living room, watching them, expecting them to hop to it and come in.

Things didn't happen as we expected.

Mom turned in Dad's arms. The two of them stood chest to chest as she stared up at him with her arms now wrapped around his back.

"Oh, my gosh. Are you serious?" I heard Indie whisper from right next to me, but I didn't take my eyes off my parents.

They said something to each other and then they smiled, staring at one another like they didn't have a care in the world, like they weren't being watched, like they hadn't been divorced for over twenty years.

Then, just like that, right in front of God, and their children, and any passing helicopters, they kissed.

It was several sweet kisses laced with smiles. We were all so stunned that we just stood there and watched them.

Indie let out a little gasp, Vi moaned, and my fists curled into balls. Kai did his best to leave us alone during what might be an awkward family moment, and he had ventured off, toward the hall with a sleepy Leo resting on his shoulder.

"All right," Violet said from the door. "You got us. We're all shocked. Good job. Enough with the jokes, though. It's your youngest daughter's wedding night."

Dad kissed Mom again before they reluctantly headed inside. They crossed the patio, hand-in-hand. I didn't know how to feel. If I wasn't so scared of my mother getting hurt I would have been overjoyed for her. She had never stopped loving my father. Once they got close enough to see us all standing there, Dad smiled at all of us and nudged his chin confidently.

Violet stepped to the side so that they could come inside.

"What's going on?" Indie asked as soon as they stepped inside.

"Your mother and I are two grown adults," Dad said. "And we happen to be fond of each other, that's all."

"Yeah, we get that you're grown adults," Vi said. "But there are all kinds of things wrong with this scenario… starting with the fact that it's Blue's wedding night. We don't want to give the girl nightmares. Maybe we should just pretend none of us saw any of this."

"No one's giving anyone nightmares," Mom said, smiling. She left Dad's side, and came to me with her arms outstretched. "You were such a beautiful bride, my baby girl. I am so, so proud of you. You and Taylor are truly meant for each other."

"I agree," Indie added, putting her hand on my back.

"Me too," Vi said.

"Me three," Dad added.

Mom pulled back, staring at me sweetly for a few seconds as if deciding what she wanted to say.

"Please don't worry about me," she said. "I am overjoyed right now. I feel like my life is so full."

"I love your mother," Dad said. "I truly do. I'm not going to hurt her again. Besides, she's being careful. She's making me prove myself. I've been begging her to take me back for a month now, and she just now let me get close enough to… well, you saw what she let me do."

"I'm a big girl," Mom said, staring at me with tears welling in her eyes. "And I'm happy, baby. My heart is so very happy with all of you here—my family. My girls, and my grandbaby, and Kai and Taylor. And my man. You girls know how much I love your father."

Dad let out a yell of approval, along with an excited clap. Mom laughed at his reaction, and I realized in that moment that she was really and truly happy.

"I don't deserve your mother's forgiveness for what I did to her," Dad said. "Or yours for that matter," he added, speaking to us three girls. "I probably don't deserve a second chance with her, but I want one, and I’m just warning you… I'm gonna take it if she gives it to me. I love you girls with all my heart. And I'm glad you're protective of your mother, but it's not necessary. Not this time. I'm the one who wants to protect her now. Something I should have done years ago. I know now what I had, and if your mother decides to forgive me and be a part of my life again, I will not mess it up." Dad smiled and reached out to touch the side of my face with the side of his guitar-string-callused finger.

"I guess we all need grace," I said.

"Dad needs it more than most of us," Vi added, joking around and making us all laugh.

Dad was still smiling at Vi's half-joke as he extended his tattooed arms, waving his hands and indicating that he wanted us all to bring it in for a group hug.

"I love you girls," he said as we all moved closer to each other.

"Love you," Indie said.

"Love you too," Vi agreed.

"Love you," I said.

Mom smiled up at him. "We love you, too, Alec."

Chapter 22

Taylor still hadn't come up when my family was ready to leave, so I went downstairs with them. We took the big elevator since they wanted to go through the lobby and tell Taylor goodbye before heading out to their cars. It was already a lot quieter on the first floor than it had been when I went upstairs a few minutes before.

I caught sight of Taylor from across the lobby. He was near the main entrance, talking to the wedding planner. I wanted to go to him, but Leo had begun to get fussy and restless on our way down, and I needed to show my family the way to the private exit where they would find their cars.

Taylor saw us from the corner of his eye, and he focused on me. He could hear Leo crying. We communicated without words from across the room. I told him my family wanted to tell him 'goodbye', and he nodded and held up a finger, letting me know he would meet us outside. I nodded at him, pointing toward the back hallway to let him know we'd see him there.

I headed that direction with my family, going down the hallway that led to their exit. We had to make a few turns, and choose the correct doors, but finally, we made it to the parking garage.

"Pretty cool secret exit," Indie said when I opened the door and we found their cars parked right there in front of the door.

"VIP parking, too," Kai added as he went around to the back door of Mom's SUV so that he could put Leo in his car seat. We could hear commotion in the parking garage from the crews who were still loading out, but we couldn’t see anyone nor could they see us.

I was hugging my family one-by-one and thanking them all for being a part of our special evening when Taylor opened the door and came to stand out there with us.

He was like a breath of fresh air to me. I felt speechless and smitten. He smiled at me, reaching out to touch the back of my arm with his hand.

"They're almost done," he said, informing all of us. "They had a lot of hands, so it only took them a few minutes to load up." His gaze shifted to regard my dad. "Thanks again for everything," he said.

My dad reached out to shake Taylor's hand. "It was absolutely my pleasure," he said, using the handshake to pull Taylor in for a hug.

I watched as my man, my husband, bid my family farewell. They smiled, embraced, and sweet words to each other, and I watched the entire interaction, feeling like my heart might burst from happiness.

Dad and Vi got into Vi's car. Kai got in the driver's seat of Mom's SUV, and Indie sat in the back with Leo who had already passed out.

Taylor and I waved at them as they took off, and just like that, we were left standing there, alone.

I glanced up at him, both of us wearing little unreadable half-grins. The parking garage lighting wasn't the most glamorous, but Taylor's green eyes still devastated me. My heart beat like crazy just staring into them.

He was the man of my dreams—the one who was meant for me, and there he was, looking at me like I was something delicious he was about to eat. I felt elated, and my smile broadened. I reached up and gently touched the side of his face. I was so enraptured that my hand shook slightly.

"I'm your wife now," I said.

I didn't mean for it to, but my voice came out timid and vulnerable. It must have been too much for Taylor to handle, because he didn't even respond—not with words, at least. He took me by the hand, pulling me through the door, and we walked the short distance to the small elevator that would take us directly up to the penthouse.

As soon as the elevator door closed, he pulled me to him, forcing me to pin him against the wall. I had never in my life kissed with such passion. We were both desperate for it, and it showed. I had to feel his skin on my skin. Otherwise, I might burst into a thousand pieces.

His coat came off, and I was relatively sure I heard my dress rip. He kissed me hungrily, but still I needed more. I wanted to get closer—to unbutton him and crawl underneath his skin.

I wasn't sure how we made from the elevator to our suite—maybe Taylor picked me up, and maybe I walked. I couldn't even tell. I thought maybe some of each of those things happened. We did not stop kissing, and yet we still somehow managed to get down the hall and into our place.

I really thought Taylor would take me straight to the bedroom, so I was somewhat surprised when he led me to the kitchen.

"I have something for you," he said, pulling back from the kiss, but still holding me in his arms.

"What is it?" I whispered, not taking my eyes off his.

The truth was, there could have been a billion dollars sitting in a pile on the table and I wouldn't have noticed. There could have been a billion frogs in our room, for that matter.

All I could see was Taylor.

Getting to a place where we were skin on skin was just about all I could think about. Raw passion coursed through my body and I felt like I couldn't wait any longer. I struggled to regulate my breathing and he grinned at me because of it. It was a mischievous grin, and I knew he knew exactly what I wanted. He wanted it too.

He nudged his head toward the right, trying to get me to look that way. I reluctantly tore my gaze from his and glanced in that direction. I saw a huge black box sitting on the kitchen island and taking up most of it.

"What's in there?" I asked, not moving from his arms.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Open it."

"It's not a puppy, is it?"

He smiled and shook his head, leading me to the spot next to the box. "It's definitely not a puppy. I promise you that."

I expected him to open it from the top, but instead he just lifted the whole thing off of the island. It was a three-sided box that didn't have a bottom. It was just covering whatever was underneath.

He set the box on the floor, and I stared at the array of items that were underneath, wondering what in the world was going on.

It was like a science lab—beakers and tubes and test trays that were all full of unknown liquids and substances. Taylor picked up a tube of liquid and handed it to me.

"Add this one to this one," he said, pointing at a beaker that was half-full of a different liquid.

"Just pour it right in?" I asked, tentatively.

He nodded.

"Is it going to explode?"

He shrugged as if uncertain, but he was grinning, messing with me.

"Just all at once?" I asked.

He gave me a nod.

I poured it in, and I watched an absolute amazement as the two liquids turned into a blue foamy substance which proceeded to overflow the beaker.

I gasped as it grew, expanded, and overflowed, creeping down over the edge of the beaker and onto the island. I worried for a second about the mess but then I realized Taylor had already thought of that. Everything was on a big protective tray. I was still holding the tube in my hand when focused on the substance again, watching it move as it finished growing. I had never seen anything like it. I did not know two liquids could create an instant solid—a growing, moving foam. It was like magic, and I smiled up at Taylor in wonder.

He raised his eyebrows at me like I should be really impressed, which made me laugh. "Now this one," he said.

The second amazing feat of chemistry resulted in these delicate crystal type formations growing on a Petri dish right before my eyes.

Again, I looked at Taylor, and he raised his eyebrows, causing me to crack up.

The final experiment involved fire. It was basically a huge version of those snake fireworks but on a grander scale. I lit some powder on fire with a lighter, and the next thing I knew, a huge, foam snake grew out of the smoldering embers. It was so much bigger and more amazing than the fireworks I had when I was a kid that I shrieked and stepped back, watching it with wide eyes.

I focused on Taylor when it finally stopped growing. It was at least two feet tall.

"How you like me now?" he asked with a confident grin.

I bit my lip, knowing he liked it when I did that.

"I loved your super-cool experiments, Mister Patterson. But I don’t think I could possibly like you any more than I already do."

"Well, that's good because I…" Taylor loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt as he took a step toward me. "…don’t think I could like you any more than I already do, too," he said.

I took a step back, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching him, scanning him from head to toe. He tossed aside his vest and his tie and then continued unbuttoning the front of his shirt—all while keeping his eyes trained on mine.

I wanted to squirm with excitement, but I made myself hold still, pretending to be calm. I knew what we were about to do, and I couldn’t wait.

I wanted him so badly.

My heart was pounding.

He pulled his shirttails out of his pants and unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, letting it lie open. I couldn’t help but glance down at his chest and stomach. His shirt was only open a few inches, but I could see his tan, taut skin.

I wanted to reach out and touch it.

So, that was exactly what I did.

Epilogue

Six weeks later.

The grand opening of Patterson Place was only three days away.

On account of Taylor's success with the book, we could have booked every room in the place right off the bat, but Taylor was too smart and patient for that. He wanted to provide the absolute best experience for every guest, so for the first week, we were booked at ten percent capacity, the first month, we went up to twenty-five percent. For second month, we would go up to fifty percent, the third seventy-five, and then finally, we'd transition to full capacity. He knew this would give him time to adjust and properly train the staff.

Taylor had just been downstairs in a meeting with his front desk managers. Next, he would meet with the head doormen and concierge. He had meetings all week. He personally hired and trained everyone who worked for him, and they were already onsite part-time taking future bookings, learning the expectations of positions, and preparing for the grand opening.

Taylor was an amazing leader.

I was blown away at the way everybody was unified and upbeat, working as a team.

He had a short break between meetings, and he came upstairs to eat. I was in the process of making him one of my famous grilled cheese sandwiches when he came through the door.

"Hey, baby," I called, looking over my shoulder.

Taylor did not walk to me—he ran.

For someone who was wearing slacks and a button-down shirt with a tie, he was extremely nimble and agile. He kicked off his shoes, and jogged to me. He even did some fancy move where he jumped and pivoted around the arm of the couch as he turned.

I giggled at how quickly he approached me. I was breathless with surprise when he rushed up behind me. Maybe it wasn't the surprise that left me breathless… he did this to me even when he walked slowly. His masculine presence never failed to leave me shaken and giddy.

He pulled me close to him, absentmindedly moving the pan off of the burner so he wouldn't make me burn lunch. I took a second to reach down and turn off the burner since I was mostly done with it, anyway. I barely spared a glance at the stove before looking at Taylor again.

He smiled at me before kissing me right on the lips. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too."

"I miss you."

I smiled. "I'm right here."

He kissed me. "I miss you when I'm downstairs."

He held me close to his hard body, moving and wiggling so that he could mold his body to mine. He kissed me again and again—on my neck and face and mouth.

"I love you so much that I'm terrified all the seconds and minutes I'm not next to you."

I laughed at the way he continued to move and kiss me as he spoke.

"Why are you terrified?"

"Because I love you so much that I'm scared I'll lose you. I've never been like this with anything. I've never been so attached to something in my life. I'm scared of crazy things—like a big hand will come out of the sky and just pluck you out of the top of my building before I can make it up here to you. I never, ever, ever want to lose you, Blue. I want you with me forever."

I smiled at him, placing my fingertips on the side of his face. "The most gratifying love is the kind where you're scared out of your mind. It makes it better when you're so in love that it's a little bit miserable."

"That's what kind I have," Taylor said.

I smiled. "Me too."

He kissed me again, his perfect, curved mouth touching mine ever so gently.

And, just then, in the middle of all that bliss, his phone rang.

It took him a second to look at it, but I knew he would… duty calls, after all.

"Hello?"

I waited there, unable to hear what was being said on the other end.

"Yeah. Come on up."

Pause.

"No, I promise, it's no problem. I’m up here now. She'll be fine with it."

He paused and swiveled at the waist to glance in the pan.

"Don't do that. We have stuff up here. Does she eat grilled cheese? My wife makes the best grilled cheese. We eat 'em like four times a week."

I could tell by the way he smiled that the person was laughing on the other end. I could hear it a little. It sounded like a guy.

"I promise she'll be fine with it," Taylor said after a pause. "Come on up. Just use the key for the guest suite. Once you get up here, you can let yourself into our place. It's eight-o-one. I left our door open. All right. Yep. I promise. See you in a sec."

Taylor hung up his phone and set it on the counter, and then he smiled at me like nothing was the matter. I made a silly, curious facial expression that made him grin even more.

"That was our new head doorman," he said. "I have a meeting with him in just a minute, and he got in a bind and had to bring his daughter up here with him. He said his mom usually babysits, but she couldn’t do it today. They're new to town, and I guess his mom had to go take care of some things with their new place. I'm sorry to spring that on you. He asked if the girl could just sit downstairs somewhere while we had the meeting, but I told him you wouldn't mind watching her."

"Like babysitting?" I asked. "How old is she?"

In my mind's eye, I had a vision of a sassy teenager telling me off and then kicking me in the shins before storming off. In my daydream, she had a spiked-up mohawk with nose rings and black lipstick.

"Five, I think," Taylor said. "Five or six."

That made me feel a little better.

He smiled and bent to kiss me on the cheek casually as if to say you got this. I put his grilled cheese onto a plate, using the spatula and then I cut the sandwich in half from corner to corner.

Taylor kissed me on the neck about ten times while I was doing that. It felt so good that I moved slowly.

"Can I have this one?" he asked once I was done.

"It's yours," I said, not understanding why he would ask.

"I know, but I sort of gave it away just now."

I could not believe how sweet this man was. I wanted to cry. "This one's yours," I said. "I'll make the little girl another one, no problem at all."

He smiled and bit into the sandwich, eating about half of the half in one bite.

I crossed to the fridge to get the cheese and butter back out so that I could make a second sandwich.

Taylor made a sound of approval just as we heard a knock on the door.

"Come on in," Taylor called once he had mostly swallowed.

I felt a little nervous about entertaining a random kid, but I knew I'd just figure it out and be fine.

"Hello!" A man's voice came from the door, and I turned to face him with a smile.

My expression fell when I realized who I was staring at. It took me a second to figure it out. I had traveled so much that I often thought people looked familiar to people I had seen in completely different states. The man smiled and the little girl hid shyly behind his leg as they stepped into the room.

He waved at me.

I knew him instantly.

I didn't want to say his name because I thought I was surely mistaken.

But then it hit me.

It was Josh.

I didn't know why I didn't think of it when Taylor said he just moved here. Josh from Boston being the new doorman was the farthest thing on my mind, but here he was, standing right in front of me.

"Oh, my goodness, are you kidding me? Is this? Are you? Is this seriously Josh?" I turned to look at my husband with such confusion that he laughed.

"Surprise!" he said.

I walked over to hug them. "Are you working for us?" I asked, squeezing Josh.

"Yes ma'am. Your husband was kind enough to offer me the positon, and I jumped at the chance."

I stooped to smile at his little girl. She was adorable—staring at me cautiously with big brown eyes. I reached out and touched the side of her cheek with my finger. "You are such a pretty girl."

"Say 'thank you', Nikki," Josh said.

"Thank you," she said, so quietly it was barely audible.

"Did you move all the way out to California to work for us?" I asked, looking up at Josh while remaining stooped down at his daughter's level.

"Yes, ma'am. Back when Mr. Patterson first came to Boston, I had mentioned that I always wanted to live in California. I think I also told him that the doctors said it'd be better for my mom's medical condition, too. He offered me the job and paid to move us and everything. We never could have done it if your husband didn't help us with the moving and everything."

"That's just part of your package, Josh. I'm the one who should be thanking you. I'm gonna need a right hand around here if I'm ever gonna take my wife on vacation."

"It'd be an honor," Josh said, bowing with a nod. "It's a beautiful place. I'm so happy to be here."

I was overwhelmed.

I seriously felt like I wanted to cry.

I couldn't believe what my husband had done.

I distracted myself by standing up and asking Josh if he would like a sandwich.

"Thank you, but I'll grab something to eat after our meeting," he said.

I figured he was just saying that to be nice, but I didn't push him. I thought he might not like grilled cheese.

I extended my hands as if to tell the little girl I'd like to hold her. "Would you help me make your sandwich?"

She looked at Josh who nodded, giving her permission. She reached up for me. I walked into the kitchen and set her on the counter, close to the stove but not too close.

I warned her not to touch anything.

She nodded like it wasn't the first time she had in a similar positon while someone was cooking.

Taylor came up beside me, kissing me. "We won't be long," he said. "They just rolled into town last night, so I'm not gonna keep him. I just wanted to give him his paperwork and keys and everything."

"We're fine," I said. "Me and Nikki are gonna have some girl time. Are you okay with that?" I aimed a questioning glance at Nikki, and she nodded.

"Be good for Miss Stone—Miss Blue—Mrs. Patterson." Josh smiled shook his head frustrated with himself for not getting it right. "I'm sorry. I didn’t even get to congratulate you yet," he said to me reaching out from around his daughter to pat my back. "I was real excited when I heard you were getting married. I'm really happy for you two."

I smiled as I turned to stare up at my husband. He had just finished scarfing down his lunch. He tilted back the small glass of grapefruit juice that I had sitting on the counter, and I stretched up to kiss his clean-shaven cheek after he set the glass down.

"Thank you," I said, talking to Josh while still staring up at Taylor. "I’m really happy for us two, too."

Taylor smiled at me. "Me too."

The End

 (till book 2)

Other titles available from Brooke St. James:

Another Shot:

(A Modern-Day Ruth and Boaz Story)

When Lightning Strikes

Something of a Storm (All in Good Time #1)

Someone Someday (All in Good Time #2)

Finally My Forever (Meant for Me #1)

Finally My Heart's Desire (Meant for Me #2)

Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me #3)

Shot by Cupid's Arrow

Dreams of Us

Meet Me in Myrtle Beach (Hunt Family #1)

Kiss Me in Carolina (Hunt Family #2)

California's Calling (Hunt Family #3)

Back to the Beach (Hunt Family #4)

It's About Time (Hunt Family #5)

Loved Bayou (Martin Family #1)

Dear California (Martin Family #2)

My One Regret (Martin Family #3)

Broken and Beautiful (Martin Family #4)

Back to the Bayou (Martin Family #5)

Almost Christmas

JFK to Dublin (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #1)

Not Your Average Joe (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #2)

So Much for Boundaries (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #3)

Suddenly Starstruck (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #4)

Love Stung (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #5)

My American Angel (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #6)

Summer of '65 (Bishop Family #1)

Jesse's Girl (Bishop Family #2)

Maybe Memphis (Bishop Family #3)

So Happy Together (Bishop Family #4)

My Little Gypsy (Bishop Family #5)

Malibu by Moonlight (Bishop Family #6)

The Harder They Fall (Bishop Family #7)

Come Friday (Bishop Family #8)

So This is Love (Miami Stories #1)

All In (Miami Stories #2)

Something Precious (Miami Stories #3)