by Jackie Wang
Chapter 40
“Do you want to stay for a bit?”
Roman nodded, showing me his numb fingers, which had turned quite blue. “That’d be nice, considering I can’t feel my legs or feet anymore.”
I laughed and made my way into the kitchen to boil some water for tea.
“So why was your day so crappy?” Roman asked, taking off his jacket. “Did something happen between you and my sister?”
“Very perceptive.”
“Did she say something hurtful? She tends to get very overprotective of me.” Roman sank into the sofa, checking out Thatcher’s eccentric home.
“She told me to stay away from you. Said I was trouble, and that you didn’t need someone like me in your life.”
Roman frowned. “I’m sorry, Maggie. Amelia has always been too blunt for her own good.”
“She said we could never be together.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, sweetheart.”
“She’s not wrong, Roman.” I bit my lower lip and clasped my hands together. I braced myself against the edge of the counter. “How can you be so sure you’ve made the right choice?”
Roman snuck up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Nothing in life is certain. But I’ve learned from my mistakes. Last Christmas, I let you go. This Christmas, somehow, you’ve found your way back into my arms. This time, I’m never letting go.” He squeezed me tight and nuzzled my neck with the tip of his nose.
“Never is a long time.”
“I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend my forever with.” Roman spun me around and took my lips again, this time with more pressure. More need. I groaned against him, feeling his body radiate heat through his clothes. My body remembered his, and longed for his electric touch. But he pulled away. “Tonight, I just want to hold you…if you’ll let me. I want you to know that I’m here to take care of you, not take advantage of you.”
My hands roamed along his chest and down to his waist, lifting up the edge of his shirt. “You’re a good man, Roman. But I need more than just a hug tonight.”
“Oh, what do you need, then?”
My fingers continued to toy with his shirt. “I need you. All of you. All over me.”
“I was hoping you’d say something like that,” Roman whispered in my ear. He flipped me around, and I braced myself against the edge of the counter. I could feel his arousal digging into my backside. He rotated his hips slightly and ground against me. I groaned. “Roman…”
The kettle whistled, and I jolted. “Water’s ready,” I croaked out, “I should…uh…get that.” I sidestepped over to turn off the stove.
Roman ran his large, warm hands up and down my back. “I want you, Maggie. You don’t know how much I want you. Right now, up against the counter…on the floor, against the wall. But we can’t. Not tonight. Not with the boys sleeping five feet away, and in someone else’s home, no less.”
“When?” I hated how desperate I sounded, but I didn’t care. I hadn’t slept with anyone for a year. And the last time had been with him. And being with him had been so good. So right. After him, I knew, deep down inside, there could be nobody else. I needed him against me, inside me, all over every inch of me.
“Patience, sweetheart. We have lots of time.”
I swallowed hard, my aroused body refusing to acknowledge Roman’s logic.
“How about some tea? Something to help me sleep,” Roman suggested, opening a cupboard.
“You’re staying the night?”
“Unless you want me to drive all the way home in this blizzard.” Roman gestured to the thrashing snow outside. He had a point. The snow was so thick, the roads and sidewalks blended together into one.
I opened up the tea cupboard and ran my finger along the various teas Ms. Thatcher stored there. “Chamomile?”
“That would be lovely, thanks.”
We spent the next half-hour, curled up on the sofa, chatting. Roman talked about his childhood, some of his favorite holiday moments, and about his mother, whom he intended to visit soon. I shared with him some stories about Crescent Hill, and about the new employees we’d hired since he left.
Despite begrudging him for not satisfying my more carnal needs, I found that chatting with him was just as enjoyable, if not more. I liked getting inside Roman’s head. Figuring him out. And I liked sharing my world with him too. More than liked. I loved spending time with him.
Before long, it’d grown so late it was early, and we called it a night.
Roman and I fell asleep together. My head rested against his shoulder, my body wedged between his arm and the back of the sofa. I woke up to the sound of hushed whispers. When I blinked the sleep from my eyes, I noticed Jason and Greg hovering over our intertwined bodies. I slipped out of Roman’s embrace and combed my fingers through my hair. “Morning, boys. You’re up early.”
“It’s already eight, Mom. We’re late,” Jason said, pointing to the grandfather clock by the window.
“We’ve already packed our things,” Greg added. “We didn’t want to disturb you guys.” Then he gave me a wink that made me blush. I shook Roman, who mumbled a little but didn’t stir.
“Roman, I’ve got to go. Wake up.” I shook him again, and his lids began to flutter open. He looked kind of cute when he was half asleep.
“Oh shit, the opening!” Roman cried, scrambling from the sofa. “Where are my shoes?”
“And I’m late for class,” I said.
“Let’s go then. I’ll give you all a ride.”
After getting ready in record time, the four of us piled into Roman’s Bentley, and he sped off into London traffic. Four inches of snow had blanketed everything in sight, and visibility was just awful. I felt irritable and foggy-brained from the terrible quality of sleep I’d gotten last night. And of course, my muscles were needles of pain that jabbed me as I moved.
Greg and Jason whispered in the backseat, giggling once in a while. I glared at them through the rearview mirror. “If you two have something to share, now would be a good time,” I said.
“Are you and Uncle Roman like, together, together?” Jason asked.
I laughed, head tilting back. “What in the world does that even mean?”
“He slept over,” Jason pointed out. “Things must be getting serious.”
“What do you know about relationships, young man?” Roman teased, glancing at Jason through the rear-view mirror.
“We know enough,” Jason said proudly. “Greg and I both agree, you two must be in love.”
“Oh, how’s that?” Roman asked.
“Just by the way you two look at each other. I’ve got a gift when it comes to these things,” Greg said, a smug look on his face.
“Do you now? That’s good to know.” Roman gave the boys a wink. “Well, have a good day, boys. I’ll come pick you up later.”
“You don’t need to—” I began.
“I’ll be your personal chauffeur from now on. Unless there’s an emergency, I will be at your service twenty-four seven,” Roman said. “No ands, ifs, or buts.”
“You’re the best, Roman,” Jason said, unclipping his seatbelt and reaching over to high-five him. “Thanks, dude.”
“Does this mean you’ll finally take us to see the Tower of London?” Greg asked. “We’ve been waiting such a long time, and we’ve been really good.”
“On our best behavior,” Jason agreed.
“I will take you boys on an unforgettable adventure, I promise,” Roman said. “But for now, I’ve got a new inn to open. See you later, boys.”
“Bye, Roman! Bye, Mom!” the boys called out.
“Have a good day! Be safe!” I replied.
After Mr. Henley had taken the boys inside, I turned to Roman and said, “Don’t you start spoiling my sons now. They’ve been raised to be very down-to-Earth children.”
“I won’t spoil them…much,” Roman promised as he pulled away from the curb. “But children, they need to be showere
d with affection once in a while, especially around the holidays.”
“Christmas is next week,” I said, suddenly remembering. “Are you doing anything with your family?”
“Yes. Amelia and I were planning to visit our mum in Essex. With Izzy too, of course.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good. Have fun.”
“I’d love it if you’d come.”
I shook my head. “I can’t—Amelia made it plenty clear—”
“She wouldn’t dare bully you with me around,” Roman said. “Besides, once you two get to know each other more, you’ll get along, I’m sure.”
“Doubtful,” I muttered. “But, I’ll think about it.”
“My mum lives in Chelmer Village. I could come pick you up, and we could drive over there.”
“I’m not sure if…”
“Either way, you’ve got a week to decide.” Roman smiled. “Hopefully, by then, you’ll want to come.” Before long, he’d pulled up to Le Cordon Rouge. “Have a good day at class, love.”
“And you too. With the opening,” I said. “Knock ‘em dead.”
Roman gave me a brief kiss on the lips. “I will.”
While I was at class, I couldn’t focus on a damn thing Mme. Closette said. My mind kept drifting to thoughts of Roman’s mom, and seeing Amelia again and—
“Earth to Maggie,” Mandie said, waving her hand in front of me. “You there?”
I blinked. “Yes. Yes, of course, I’m here. Where else would I be?”
“It looked like you were having an out-of-body experience or something,” Mandie said. “Look at your workstation, and that apron. It’s a mess!”
“I guess I am a bit preoccupied this morning.”
“Because of Roman Finnegan?”
“How did you know?”
Mandie gestured to the room. “Everyone knows. Noecker saw him drop you off. She said you two kissed.”
“What is this, the third grade?” I chuckled and began folding my batter again. “You are such a bunch of gossips.”
“You’re not denying it.”
“Okay, so I might be seeing the most eligible bachelor in London. You happy now?”
“Might?”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I am.”
“What’s he like in bed?” Mandie asked, chewing her lip. The determined set to her jaw told me she wasn’t quitting without an answer. “Everyone’s been dying to know.”
“Everyone?”
“Okay, just me and Missy.”
Mandie was a Nosy Nelly if I ever saw one.
“He…” I wasn’t usually one to kiss and tell, but… “He’s phenomenal.”
“Is he as well-endowed as—”
“—Too far,” I interrupted. “Let’s just focus on this cake, shall we?”
After class, I rushed down to Maggie’s Inn to see how the opening was going. Of course, it was going splendidly. Did I really expect anything less from one of the most successful entrepreneurs in the country?
“Congratulations,” I said to Roman when I finally tracked him down among the sea of guests. He’d cleaned up nicely since I saw him that morning. His hair was gelled back, and his smart outfit, wrinkle-free. I loved a man in a suit. Especially if that man was named Roman Finnegan.
“Come with me,” Roman said, taking my hand.
“What? Where are we—” Before I could finish my thought, Roman had grabbed me onstage.
He let out a whistle and drew the crowd’s attention to us. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce a very special lady.”
“Oh God,” I muttered under my breath, cringing at how awful I must’ve looked. I was wearing faded jeans and an old, baggy sweater. Hardly fit for an event like this, where everyone was decked in jewels and designer labels. If I’d known—
“This is Maggie Summers. The inspiration behind the name of this inn.”
A polite round of applause filled the room.
“Maggie is a talented pastry chef, and an experienced hotel manager. And if I’m lucky, she will help me run this new inn. With my expertise and her blessing, I have no doubt this inn will be a smashing success.”
What? Me? A talented pastry chef? An experienced hotel manager? Did he have the right person? And what was it he said about helping him…
Someone in the crowd, a reporter, presumably, by the looks of her badge and outfit, raised her hand.
“Yes?” Roman nodded to her.
“Are you two in a relationship?”
Roman looked at me and I arched my brow. I squeezed his hand. Hard. Though I hadn’t said a word, I could feel sweat rolling down the sides of my face. We hadn’t really discussed what we’d say if someone asked us…
Roman nodded. “Yes. Yes, we are. We met last year, and recently reconnected.”
With that announcement, multiple hands shot up in the crowd. Hushed chatter erupted inside the cavernous foyer. Everyone seemed more interested in our relationship than the inn. Roman answered the questions with patience, but also deliberate vagueness. Yes, she was an American. Yes, she worked at Crescent Hill Lodge. No, we weren’t secretly engaged…
When the media storm was over, I asked him, “What do you think this news will do to your public image?”
Roman shrugged. “I don’t care about gossip. Besides, what could it possibly do to my image?”
“I’m not going to start getting stalked by paparazzi now, am I?” I grinned.
Roman laughed. “I’m not that famous. You have nothing to worry about.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, then exhaled. “So, we’re really doing this.”
Roman smiled. “This is one of the happiest days of my life, Maggie.”
“Because you opened a new hotel?”
“No, silly, because I can finally call you mine. In public,” Roman said, squeezing my hand. “I want to shout it from the rooftops, Maggie. I want to tell the world.”
“You’re not very hard to please, you know.”
“I am usually…but in your case, everything you do pleases me.”
I gave his shoulder a playful poke. “You’re such a sap. You’re giving me cavities.”
“Should I stop?”
“Never.”
Roman leaned in and snuck a kiss. “Never it is, then.”
Chapter 41
Once everyone had left, Roman locked up the doors and turned to me. “So, Magnolia Summers. We have this huge, brand new inn all to ourselves. What should we do first?”
I smirked. “Why do I feel like you’re about to take advantage of me?”
Roman took a step toward me. “When did you become such a good mind reader?”
I took a step back. “This feels wrong.”
Roman flashed me a rugged smile. “How can it be wrong when the place is named after you? It’s screaming to be christened.”
I let out a sound that was a mix between a snort and a giggle. “Well, when you put it that way…”
Roman slipped behind the concierge desk and scribbled something down inside a thick binder. He swiveled it around and beckoned me closer. I walked over and squinted at the ledger. He’d signed us in as the first two guests to ever stay in this hotel.
Roman Finnegan & Magnolia Summers. 15 December 2017. Room 210.
“It’s official, Maggie’s Inn is open for business,” Roman announced.
“So why are all the doors locked, and the lights dimmed?” I asked.
“Didn’t anyone tell you?”
I shook my head. “No. Tell me what?”
“Some rich bastard booked the entire hotel on opening day. Says he’s celebrating.”
“He did?” It took me all of three seconds to realize he was talking about himself. “You shouldn’t have, Roman.”
“Shall we visit our suite, Miss Summers?”
Room 210 was the largest suite in the inn. Against the right wall, a massive, four-poster bed waited for us. It looked even bigger than a king-sized one, if that was even possible. Abstract prints hung in pairs around
the suite, accented by tasteful glass bowls filled with mints.
Everything was so new and untouched. And clean.
Two elegant sconces gleamed on each side of the bed, underneath which sat two cherry bedside tables. Directly opposite the bed was a beautiful pearl vanity and an upholstered chaise. Beyond that, lay a bathroom that was so white, my eyes hurt to stare at it. And there were lit candles. So many candles, everywhere. The lights were dimmed, the curtains drawn, and I felt like I was in a movie.
“Do you like it?” Roman asked, pulling a bottle of champagne out of an ice bucket and uncorking it like a pro.
I pretended to frown. “You didn’t strew rose petals all over the bed. And where are the oysters and caviar?”
Roman laughed. “If you want those things, they can be easily arranged.”
“Is this for real?” I asked, gesturing to everything around me.
Roman knocked on a wall, humoring me. “I think so, yes.” He poured fizzy champagne into two flutes and handed one to me. We raised our glasses, and each took a sip. The drink tasted sweet, almost like soda.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Finnegan?” I asked. I couldn’t stop smiling. Why was I smiling so hard? I probably looked like an idiot, but I didn’t even care.
Roman smacked his lips and put down his champagne. “Is it working?”
I put down my champagne as well. “The bubbly helps. A lot.”
“Then I guess I’ll need to stay on top of the refills.”
“I’m good, for now,” I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Let’s test out this new mattress, shall we? I need to check if these pillows are plump enough.”
“Yes, we should test everything. Rigorously,” Roman agreed, lifting me up, and gently throwing me down onto the center of the bed. “How’s the mattress?”
“Comfy. Hey, can I try something?” I asked him.
“Anything,” Roman said, gesturing to the room. “The hotel is ours.”
