Southern Comforts

Now what? He could lay her on the love seat near the fire—but it was way too short. She needed a bed.

“Oh, my.” Marion entered the kitchen with a tray of empty wine bottles. “Is Abby okay?”

“Exhausted. She was asleep at the table. I tried to wake her.” God, he sounded pathetic. “Can I carry her to her room or another room?” Did Abby live on-site?

Marion looked at the love seat and shook her head. “We don’t have an open room tonight.” She waved her hand at all of Abby’s work on the counters. “The guests for tomorrow’s engagement party filled all the vacancies.”

“Why don’t I take her up to my room and let her nap there? If anyone needs her, let them know.”

“She sleeps harder than anyone I know. She needs at least three alarms to get her up every morning.” Marion walked over and brushed a strand of hair off Abby’s face. Then she stared into Gray’s eyes. “You’ll be a gentleman?”

“Absolutely.” He might dream about stripping off her clothes, but he would never do anything without her active participation.

Up in his suite, he slipped off Abby’s shoes and tucked her into his bed. She rolled over and curled into a ball. Her hair had come free from the clip and spread across the white pillow like a sunset. He wanted to lie down and hold her while she slept.

Instead, Gray went into the sitting area, leaving the bedroom door ajar. When Abby woke, he didn’t want her to be confused.

Flipping open his phone, he called Daniel Forester.

“Thanks for getting your bid back early,” Gray said.

“We really want to work on this project,” Forester said.

“Well, it’s yours if you bring over pizza and beer. I’m in the Jackie Kennedy room.”

Forester didn’t answer.

Okay, he knew his request had sounded strange.

“Abby fell asleep in the kitchen. She looked so uncomfortable, I couldn’t leave her there,” Gray explained. “I carried her up to my room, and she didn’t even twitch. I want to be here when she wakes up.”

What an idiot. He should have left her on the love seat next to the fireplace.

Honesty smacked him in the face. He’d wanted her in his bed, even if he couldn’t be there with her.

“I’ll be there after I pick up that pizza,” Forester said. “Anything you don’t like?”

“Anything goes.”

* * *

ABBY ROLLED OVER and hugged her pillow. She’d been having such a lovely dream about the pine-and-sandalwood scent of Gray’s cologne. She stretched and looked around.

No! Why was she in the Kennedy room? How had she ended up in Gray’s bed?

The alarm clock next to her said nine o’clock. She’d lost three hours. Three hours! How would she get everything done?

Male voices filtered into the bedroom from the sitting room. She found her shoes and clutched them to her chest.

Abby tiptoed to the door but didn’t have a clear line of sight. When she pushed the door a little wider, it squealed.

“Abby?” Gray called from the sofa.

She bit her lip. Trying to act nonchalant, she entered the room. Not only was Gray on the sofa, but Daniel Forester sat in the chair across from him. As if she weren’t already embarrassed enough.

Gray stood and met her in the middle of the room. “Are you feeling better?”

He stood so close, she could whisper, “How did I get up here—in your bed?”

He stroked a finger under her eyes, down her cheek, and tipped up her chin. “You were sound asleep at the table. I couldn’t wake you, so I carried you upstairs where you could at least be comfortable.”

He’d hauled her up to his room? She inhaled a sharp breath, trying not to scream. “How could you? I have things I have to do. What if someone needed me?”

“Marion knows where you are. Take a break—you’re exhausted.”

She pressed her lips together, but couldn’t contain her anger. “I don’t have time to sleep. That’s why I was resting at the table.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “What gave you the right to interfere?”

She headed for the door.

He grabbed her arm. “I can help.”

“You’ve done enough.” She wrenched her arm free. “Your dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Forester brought pizza. I’m good.”

Lord, now she wasn’t living up to her commitments.

“Don’t be mad. I was trying to help.” He leaned down so only she could hear. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“Hey, Abby,” Daniel called, looking away from the basketball game, concern creasing his face. “Everything all right? I heard you crashed and burned in the kitchen.”

She straightened her shoulders. “I can’t believe I slept that deeply.”

“I can. Aren’t you the sister that requires a dozen alarms to wake up?”

She mumbled a reply as she slipped her shoes on.

Over the years, the Foresters and Fitzgeralds had become close, sharing meals and holidays. Apparently too close, if Daniel remembered her problem with waking up.

“We still have pizza.” Daniel popped a beer. “A couple of beers left, too.”

“I just lost three hours.” She shot Gray an icy look. “I have to work.”

* * *

GRAY SAID GOODBYE to Daniel and shut the B and B’s front door. He checked his watch and saw that it was a little before ten o’clock. Would Abby still be in the kitchen?

He needed to apologize. He didn’t feel guilty for letting her sleep. She had to have been beyond exhausted.