The Suite Life (The Family Stone Book 1)

by Brooke St. James

  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 th
ese 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.