The paper she’s showing me is the list of highest bidders. I follow her finger down the length of the page, landing on the final auction item: 2016 World Series Cubs v. Indians Memorabilia. A familiar name is scrawled next to a number with far more zeros than I think I’ve ever seen outside of an episode of Mad Men.
“Gene and Miriam Westwood . . . sixty thousand dollars?” I gasp, the music and chattering of the room only white noise to the beat of my hammering heart.
“I was wondering if you’d like to do the honors of rewarding the highest bidders, my dear,” Peggy says, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “You deserve it. The stage is yours.”
Glancing back at Hayes and his encouraging eyes is enough to solidify the truth I’ve been praying for. Riverside is saved.
“I would love nothing more.”
After the last guests have said their good-byes and left for the evening, Hayes and I stick around to clean up whatever we can.
I’m on garbage patrol, limping around with sore feet and a giant garbage bag, tossing the debris of the evening inside. Hayes, meanwhile, helps a handful of volunteers disassemble the stage and carry the tables to the storage closet. He stripped off his tuxedo jacket when we began to help, and it’s impossible not to stare at that muscled back. A low tingle in my belly reminds me what else the night has in store for me.
We stop by the car to pick up my tote bag, which contains pajamas for me, my toothbrush, and an extra I picked up for Hayes earlier this week. Leaning against the car in the cool night air, I toss my creepy donor-stalking binder into the back seat. When I reach for the bag again, Hayes intercepts me.
“I’ve got it.”
“You know, you don’t have to do the whole gentleman act still,” I say before leaning in to whisper, “I think the fancy part of the evening is over.”
“Oh, in that case—”
Hayes swings my bag around and around, threatening to dump all of its contents onto the parking lot.
“No, Hayes!” I laugh, reaching for him. “Okay, okay, five more minutes of gentlemanly behavior, and then you’re free to be a savage.”
Hayes sighs dramatically, muttering that five minutes is too long. He straightens his shoulders, threading one arm through the loops of my bag before offering me the other to lean on. Smirking, I wrap my hand around his firm bicep and shuffle alongside him toward the hotel.
It only takes minutes to sign in and get our room key. In the elevator, I lean against the wall, a small smile on my lips at how well tonight’s event went. Hayes leans against the opposite wall, watching me.
“How do you feel?” he asks, his voice so tender it should be illegal.
“Exhausted.” I sigh, cocking my head to the side to give him a tired smile. “Happy. Free.”
“Free?”
“It’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders,” I murmur, closing my eyes. “It’s like I’ve been underwater this whole month, and now I can finally breathe again.”
When I open my eyes, Hayes is looking at his wristwatch.
“I’m sorry,” I say with a huff. “Am I boring you?”
“Not at all.” He smirks, but his eyes stay locked on the silver accessory.
“Then what are you waiting for?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
He holds up one finger, an annoying gesture to wait. Finally, he drops his arms, my bag, and its contents along with them.
“Seriously, Hayes? What’s wrong with y—”
With one long stride, he’s on me, his hands on my jaw, angling my mouth up to his in a kiss so fiery, it sears right through me. All questions die on my lips as the kiss overwhelms me.
I clutch his shoulders with desperate fingers, my mind deliciously blank. Greedy for more, I open my mouth to his insistent tongue, which eagerly slips inside to caress my own. One long leg presses between mine and rubs against my core with a satisfying urgency. When he releases me, our lips parting, his eyes are nearly black with desire.
“What was that for?” I ask, breathless.
Hayes leans in, tracing a path down my neck with his hot, wet tongue. “Your five minutes are up. Time to be a savage.”
13
HAYES
The door slams shut behind us, and I press Maren against it.
It’s like the tension that’s been building all night has finally burst, and we’re helpless against it. I’m helpless against it. I’ve wanted this for so long, and the moment her mouth met mine in the elevator, I knew she wanted this too. So to be here now, to know what’s coming next, it’s almost too much to handle.
Almost.
I bring my hands to her hips and drag her body closer so we’re pressed tightly together. She lets out a little sound of surprise when she feels how hard I am. And believe me, I’m hard enough to pound nails.
Fuck. Slow down, Hayes.
I press my forehead to hers and draw a breath, my voice raspy as I say, “Dove.”
She touches my jaw, tilting my mouth back down to hers. “More.”
I groan and give in, kissing her deeply. My tongue tangles with hers, and I feel powerless to do anything but give her everything she wants. And it’s obvious she wants this—more kissing and less talking.
Her hands reach for my jacket, and she peels away the first layer of clothing between us. I reach for her hair, cradling the back of her head as I slide my tongue into her mouth. She moans and bucks her hips into me, clearly telegraphing her thoughts. Less clothes. Now.
I guide us to the king-size bed, removing my shirt in the process. Maren unzips her dress and begins to pull it over her head, but I stop her, holding her hands by her wrists.
“Let me.”
She nods, and I lift her arms over her head before bending down
