Room for Love (34 page)

“My conditions,” he said, his fingers still trailing up and down her side. “Were more like this.”

“This?” Carrie asked, her breath coming short as his fingers trailed lower.

“Mm hmm.” Nate leaned in and kissed her again, his lips soft and tender against hers. Reaching back, he pulled the hand she had resting on his hip down between them, and even as she moved to hold him, heavy and hard in her hand, his fingers were returning to between her thighs. “Equals,” he breathed against her lips, and Carrie swallowed hard.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” she said, moaning when his fingers swirled around. “I’ve got another job for you right now.”

Nate gave a lazy smile. “And what’s that?”

Looking straight into his eyes, Carrie remembered his words from the terrace–
I’m in love with you–
and saw the truth of them there, even in the darkness.

“Make love to me,” she said, and Nate grinned as he moved to obey.

* * * *

Carrie woke the following morning to a still dark room, a screaming alarm clock and Nate swearing. Loudly.

Reaching across to her bedside table, she turned off the alarm then rolled over to look at Nate’s dear, grumpy face. “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked, all too aware of a pounding headache.

“Like I finally fell asleep around an hour ago,” he grumbled. “And got woken up by an insane screeching.” Neither of which was all that far from the truth, Carrie realized.

She laid her head on the pillow and closed her aching eyes, just for a moment. “If we make it through this day, it will be a miracle.”

Nate groaned some sort of agreement. Carrie felt his muscles tense beside her and he said, “Right,” before rolling into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. “Better get to work.” He turned and gave her a tired smile. “Insert your own
boss is a tyrant
joke here.”

“Will do,” she promised, and didn’t even pretend not to be ogling his naked backside as he stood up.

Then he turned to her, and it took Carrie a moment to focus on the serious expression on his face, rather than his naked body. But when she did, the warmth that had been filling her body started to dissipate.

“Don’t look like that,” Nate said, tugging his boxers on, before perching on the edge of the bed. “It’s just...what I said last night. About us being equals.”

Carrie yanked the blanket up to cover her shoulders. “I’m still your boss, Nate. Unless you want to quit.”

“Quite the opposite.” Nate reached under the blanket and grabbed her hand. “But I do need to be sure that it’s what you want, too.”

“There was some doubt about that?” Carrie joked, thinking over the night. “Because I thought I was pretty clear.”

But Nate’s eyes were still serious. “You know what I mean. This is the part where something convinces you that you can’t sleep with the help, and you ignore me for three weeks.”

Carrie scowled. “And then you run off to your ex-girlfriend.”

Nate shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about that.” He shifted closer, resting their joined hands against her naked hip. “I can be here for you, at the Avalon, any way you need me. But if you want me here–” He pressed against her, pushing her into the mattress. “–then it needs to be a full time thing. Not something you pick up then toss away until you’re bored again.”

“All or nothing,” Carrie whispered, wondering if he knew how terrifying that sounded.

He nodded, and for a moment, all she could see were his storm cloud eyes. “The show could be a great opportunity for us, too. You give me the gardens and free rein to do whatever I need to with them, and you can have the money to fix the inn. God knows I’ve no interest in hotel management. But we could be...”

“Equals,” Carrie murmured.

Nate nodded. “Or as close as we’re going to get.” He shifted away and said, “But you don’t need to think about it today. We’ve got a wedding to put on, and a thousand things to do.” He stood up, flashing her a quick smile, and stooped to avoid banging his head. “Starting with a shower. Don’t suppose Matt’s fixed the plumbing in here yet?”

“Not yet,” Carrie said, as he disappeared into the bathroom. Her bathroom hadn’t been high on the list of priorities. But if she was going to stay, she needed to make this place more habitable. Nate couldn’t even stand up in there.

Something to think about after the wedding, she supposed. Along with Nate’s proposal, and the future of the Avalon Inn. Nice, peaceful times ahead, then.

Hadn’t Nancy lived in the gatehouse, once? She could move there.
They
could move there.
Carrie shook her head. After the wedding. For now, she needed to focus.

Pulling herself up against the headboard, she reached over for her clipboard and was wearily reviewing the tasks for the morning when the bedroom door flew open to reveal a clearly hungover Ruth. Carrie tugged the blanket a bit more firmly over herself and hoped Nate would choose this morning to take a long shower, despite the temperamental plumbing. “Good morning,” she said, eyebrows raised.

“I don’t care how gorgeous the naked man in your bathroom is,” Ruth said, her face serious. “I have approximately five and a half hours until I get married. I need coffee, you in my room having your hair done and an explanation of where my flowers are. Now.” With that, she shut the door behind her, and Carrie sighed. Time to get back to work.

Chapter 14

It took a little longer than Ruth might have liked, because Carrie refused to start the day off without a shower and an opportunity to kiss Nate and hand over the job lists for him to distribute to everyone else working there that day.

But twenty minutes later Carrie sat at the bridal suite dressing table having her auburn locks fussed with while she ran Ruth through the order of play.

“Nate’s taking the buttonholes round to the men now, the harpist will be here at eleven and your mum’s gone back to bed for a small lie-down.” Carrie flinched as a hairpin hit her scalp. “You know we went through pretty much all of this yesterday.” Apart from the parents of the bride’s combined hangovers.

“I know,” Ruth said, pacing around Cyb’s four-poster bed. “I just need to hear it again. Where are the other girls?”

“All having their nails and hair done in the village. Like you instructed them to.” Persuading the beauty parlor to open at seven-thirty that morning had been a challenge in itself, but Ruth was set on a midday ceremony and eight bridesmaids, and Carrie had wanted to make sure everyone had plenty of time to get ready.

Ruth froze, a look of horror on her face. “Why aren’t I having my nails done?”

“Because you had them done yesterday. With me.”

Dropping to sit on the bed, Ruth examined her hands. “Oh. Yeah. That’s right.”

“All done,” the hairdresser said, finally, and Carrie jumped up from the chair, barely pausing to glance in the mirror.

“Right then,” Carrie said. “Ruth, sit down and have your hair sorted. I’m going downstairs to check on everything else.”

“Not until you put your dress on,” Ruth said firmly, striding across to the wardrobe.

“There’s still three and a half hours to go,” Carrie pointed out, not relishing spending any more time than necessary in a corseted dress and a strapless bra. “I might spill something on it.”

“I know you,” Ruth said. “Once you get down there, you’ll be busy and you’ll forget the time, and you are not attending my wedding in a bloody black suit, okay.”

Ruth brandished a coat hanger in what Carrie considered a threatening manner, so she said, “Okay,” and slipped off her suit jacket.

“What was Anna saying to Nate last night?” Ruth asked, as she helped Carrie into her dress.

“Something about how he must be finding it difficult, working under me.” Carrie shook her head, squeaking as Ruth tugged the laces running up the back of her bridesmaid’s dress tighter than her ribs thought appropriate.

“I wouldn’t have thought that being under you was a problem for him. Or over, for that matter.” Ruth tied the laces off in a bow at the base of Carrie’s back, and came around to the front to survey her work. Ruth was currently parading around in nothing but ivory satin underwear and stockings, and the sight of Ruth’s perfect body, so easily displayed, was not making Carrie feel any better about her own suddenly-too-tight pale lavender dress.

More worrying was the concern that the bridesmaids’ dresses might no longer match the hastily dyed roses. Cyb hadn’t managed to look entirely convincing when trying to assure Carrie the flowers were all under control the previous evening.

Ruth’s mother popped her head around the door, apparently feeling revitalized by her lie-in. “Are the bouquets here yet?”

Carrie jumped in before Ruth could. “They’re being kept in water downstairs. We didn’t want them to wilt before the ceremony.”

Ruth gave Carrie a faintly incredulous look, but didn’t contradict her. Aunt Selena nodded, and disappeared again, presumably until the next time she thought of something else that might have been missed by Carrie, Ruth, Anna, and the rest of the Avalon Inn staff. Carrie wasn’t entirely sure why Selena had bothered hiring a wedding planner at all if she planned to duplicate all the work.

“Are the bouquets really downstairs?” Ruth asked, once her mother was gone.

“Of course,” Carrie said, hoping she was telling the truth.

Ruth watched her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. What’s next?”

“You might want me to go and check on your other bridesmaids,” Carrie suggested. “Make sure they’re not already back and celebrating their excellent nails with some pre-ceremony champagne.”

“Well, if I hadn’t had to manhandle you into your dress, I might have been able to keep a better eye on them.”

“You ordered it too small,” Carrie lied, knowing full well that Jacob’s breakfasts were solely responsible. “And I really do need to get downstairs. Why don’t I send the girls up as soon as they get back to wrangle you into
your
dress, and then we can start getting this show on the road.”

Ruth took in a breath so deep Carrie could see her corset move. “I guess so.”

Carrie frowned at her. “Shouldn’t you be more excited on your wedding day?”

“I am.” A huge grin broke out across Ruth’s face. “I can’t tell you how... I’m just trying to keep it under the surface. I’m afraid I might float off otherwise.”

Laughing, Carrie moved to the door, and checked the hallway for anyone trying to get a peek at the bride in her underwear. “Then I’ll definitely send the other girls up to keep a hold of you.”

She’d almost made her escape when Ruth reached out and grabbed her arm, tugging her back from the door. “What?” Carrie watched as Ruth bit into her lower lip. “Is it Graeme? Because, really, the stag night...”

“It’s not Graeme,” Ruth said. “It’s you.”

Carrie shut the door. “Me?”

“I just... I know you’re focused on the inn at the moment. But I really think...” Ruth trailed off and stared at Carrie, eyes wide.

“You think...?” Carrie prompted. “Wedding planner doesn’t actually translate to mind reader, you know.”

Ruth dragged her closer to the bed, and sat them down on the fresh, white covers. Carrie was pretty sure there wasn’t any champagne in the room yet, but all the same, she was a little leery of a repeat of the hen night.

“I just want you to have what I have,” Ruth said, clinging to Carrie’s hand. “And I think you could have that with Nate. And I don’t want you to blow it because you’re too busy to see how crazy he is about you.”

“I’m not...” Carrie sighed. “Well, I’m not that stupid, for a start. I know this isn’t just a one-night thing. But, Ruthie, I’m not going to go and propose to Nate because you think we belong together.”

Ruth looked faintly disappointed at her pronouncement. “But you’re going to give him a chance this time? Because you do have a bit of a history...” Carrie stared at her cousin until she continued. “Well, seriously, Carrie. Can you think of a single relationship you’ve had in the past six years where you’ve actually allowed it to continue long enough to find out if there’s something real there?”

Carrie shifted a couple of inches away on the bed, but Ruth wouldn’t let go of her hand to let her move any farther. “I was working a lot. I’m still working a lot.”

“I know. And maybe those guys weren’t right for you anyway.” Ruth squeezed her hand. “But maybe this one is. I just want to know that you’ll give him a chance.”

Carrie looked down at her lavender satin-covered knee and thought of Nate persuading his gran to help him dye roses to save Ruth’s wedding, or persuading his ex-girlfriend to produce a new show so Carrie wouldn’t have to sell off any of the gardens. Thought of him talking about her with such faith the night before, even in the face of Anna bloody Yardley. Thought about him saying he’d be there at the Avalon for her, any way she needed him.
I need him.

“I’ll give him a chance,” she promised.

Ruth grinned. “Excellent. I’ll aim the bouquet at you later, then.”

* * * *

Anna found her as soon as she reached the lobby. Carrie clutched her clipboard closer, and wished she didn’t feel like such a child next to Anna in her immaculately tailored silver-grey suit and groomed hair. Carrie, on the other hand, was wearing lavender satin shoes, surely something nobody over the age of five could reasonably get away with. Standing beside Nate’s giant tree, she felt like a little girl on Christmas morning, waiting to be told she could open her presents.