Chapter Eight
Damon woke up with a cat on his pillow and a woman in his bed.
One out of the two wasn’t bad.
He stretched. He had to admit he hadn’t felt this good in days. But then he turned toward his sleeping bedmate. Kinsley. He should have guessed. He remembered now, the phone call and reprimand from his father, how awful his head felt, and then how Kinsley and Elena had taken him to his room so he could lie down. Kinsley had placed cold compresses on his aching head and had even forced him to drink tea and water.
Damon tucked his hands under his chin, content to just watch her sleep for a bit, mesmerized by how dark her lashes appeared against her ivory skin. The woman was too kind to him. He didn’t deserve to be taken care of like that. He was just her boss. And what had he ever done for her? Besides tell her that her family’s hotel was worthless and that she was wasting her time trying to save it. Yet her compassion toward him still won out. Kinsley was a strong and sensitive woman. He didn’t know what kind of man her ex-fiancé was, but he knew one thing for sure: the guy was totally unworthy of her.
But then again, so was Damon.
Kinsley’s eyes fluttered open, and when she caught him staring at her, they suddenly grew round and wide. “You—you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Kinsley, when a man finds a beautiful woman in his bed, the answer to ‘how are you feeling?’ will always be ‘fantastic.’” He grinned.
“Oh.” She sat straight up. Her cheeks turned rosy, and with her wavy brown hair smashed up on the one side of her head, she looked utterly charming to him. “Well, yes. I guess you are feeling better, then. You probably just needed a good night’s sleep.”
“Yes, I’m feeling much better. Thank you for that.”
“I didn’t do much. You must have had one of those twenty-four-hour things.”
“You did a lot. I remember the cold compresses and you giving me some pain relievers. You stayed with me all night. I’d say you did a lot more than anyone has done for me in a long time.”
Kinsley relaxed a little, propping two pillows behind her and leaning back. “It was nothing. You’re alone here in town. Anyone in my position would have done the same.”
Damon highly doubted that—especially where he was from—but chose to let her believe what she wanted.
“So I guess it wasn’t allergies, after all,” she said.
“Considering there’s a cat on my head and I have yet to so much as sniffle, I’m going to have to agree.”
Kinsley’s gaze sprang to his pillow. “Colette! You bad cat! How did you get in here?” She reached for the cat, stroked her head, and then gently placed her on the floor. “Sorry about that. She must have snuck in when Wade came over.”
Damon propped his head up with his hand. “Wade was here, too? What did you do, throw a party when I was down for the count?”
“Of course not. I called him because I thought you needed a doctor.”
“But Wade’s a veterinarian.”
She hesitated. “Um, I figured it was close enough.”
“You’re fired.”
She cracked a smile. “You got better, though, didn’t you?”
“Total luck on both your parts.”
She laughed. “Well, I for one am glad you survived.”
Damon glanced away. It was nice to hear somebody was happy he was alive. He often wondered if his family—especially his father—felt like they got the short end of the stick when his brother, the favorite, had passed away instead of him. But he’d make it up to them. One day, his father would be proud to have him working with him in the company.
Kinsley laid a hand on his side, jolting his attention back to her. “Off the clock?” she asked gently, making the time-out sign.
He took a deep breath then nodded at her. He had a strange feeling he wasn’t going to like what came out of her mouth next.
“I think I should tell you that you didn’t have the most restful sleep. You, uh, were obviously feverish and you dreamed a lot last night.”
He paused. “Did I?” he asked cautiously.
“Yeah.” She bit her lip, shifting closer toward him. “It sounded like you were dreaming about somebody dying. Your…your brother?”
Carson. He’d dreamed of Carson. Damon stilled. Then he rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, not really knowing how to respond. If he wanted to respond. He never talked about his brother with his family, let alone to any woman he’d ever met. For him, that subject was mere memories tightly sealed in a jar and placed high up on a shelf. Memories that were kept but never accessed. Like most of his feelings about anything.
“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it,” she rushed to explain, “but since we’re friends now, I wanted to offer you my ear. You know, just in case you needed it.”
Damon continued to stare at the ceiling, wrestling with his thoughts. It seemed a little too simple for Kinsley to suggest he talk about his brother’s accident. But, to her, maybe it was all easy and simple. She was obviously the kind of person who wore her heart on her sleeve for all the world to see.
He did not.
Expressing his feelings never turned out well in the St. James household. Especially when it came to the topic of his brother. Every thought he’d ever wanted to express about Carson and what happened that night had always been shot down by his parents, who had their own more reserved way of dealing with grief. So Damon had learned to keep his emotions to himself as well.
He turned his gaze to Kinsley, who seemed to be looking at him through hopeful eyes. Then she gave him an encouraging smile and he felt something warm deep down inside him that he’d thought was frozen.
Kinsley reached out and took hold of his hand. She laced her fingers with his, holding tightly. “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk,” she said gently. “I don’t mean to push. Sometimes it’s just nice to know something is available even if you never use it, you know?”
Damon looked down at their two hands joined together and frowned. She was so damn sweet. His heart thundered in his chest. A crazy reaction all out of proportion to her simple touch. He couldn’t explain it, but his body roared with need. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and just hold her.
And it scared the crap out of him.
“This is my favorite room,” she said, her eyes roaming the space with fondness.
He glanced around, too. The wallpaper wasn’t in the best shape but could survive a few more years, since the pattern and color were fairly neutral. The carpet needed to be replaced, but there were tasteful pictures hung all around. “It’s pretty nice.”
“Pretty nice?” she said, clearly outraged. “It’s awesome. You get the most sunlight here, and this is the only room where you get a view of the beach, ocean, and boardwalk all at once.” She pointed to a small door in the far edge of the room. “And see that closet? Wade never thought to look there when we played hide-and-go-seek.”
“When was that, last week?”
She let out a tinkling laugh. “When we were kids, silly.”
Damon grew a smile of his own. He couldn’t remember the last time he was called silly—or even felt that way. But her laughing and calling him that had a therapeutic effect on his soul and his insides grew light.
“My mom decorated this room herself,” she added, her tone turning melancholy. “We’ve never changed the color or anything about this place. She saved it for couples who were celebrating a special occasion. After she died, my dad had a hard time renting it out. In fact, it hadn’t gotten used in years. We all wanted to preserve her memory here, undisturbed for as long as we could.”
“When did you finally decide it was time?”
“The summer I graduated from high school. Wade, my dad, and I came up here to celebrate. We even ordered my mom’s favorite pizza,” she said, smiling sadly. “It felt like she was here somehow with us. That’s when we took a good look around and decided it would be better for her memory if we allowed the room to be enjoyed by others, like she would have wanted. As much as it hurt without her, life still needed to go on.”
“How did your mom die?”
“She was doing some food prep in the kitchen here in the hotel. She wanted to make it easier on the staff, I guess. She had a stroke, but since she was alone in the kitchen, it was too late by the time we got her to the hospital.”
“Did you ever…” He swallowed hard. “Do you ever blame yourself for not finding her in time?”
She shrugged. “I suppose we all have played the ‘what if’ game in our minds at some point, but no, we never really blamed ourselves. After all, none of us actually caused the stroke. It just…happened.”
Damon didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just absorbed her story, seeing and trying to make sense of the differences between their families. Much of the blame in his brother’s death had fallen on Damon’s shoulders, so he had a hard time letting that go. It wasn’t easy when your own family wouldn’t allow you to forget.
She squeezed his hand as if trying to give him comfort. He not only squeezed back but also felt the need to hang on and grip her hand like a lifeline. He wasn’t good at opening up, but it was as if he didn’t need to with her. Her presence and touch alone were like a balm to his soul.
For the longest time, they sat silently. The only sound between them was the beating of his own heart. He wanted to pull her into him, kiss her, then wondered if she’d even let him.
Damon knew better than to test that thought. Kinsley didn’t deserve someone like him. Plus, he’d already disappointed his father once this week. No need to add to that by getting himself involved with one of the employees. They both had vested interests in the hotel doing well and they needed to concentrate solely on that. So after another moment, he reluctantly released her hand.
“You’re a good GM,” he blurted.
She lifted her eyebrows. “Why? Because I took care of you when you were sick?”
“No, because you’re a people person. I obviously didn’t know your mom, but you sound a lot like her. You have a way of making people feel special and appreciated. They’re good qualities to have in a hotel manager.”
Hell, he didn’t know what was going on with him. It was as if her kindness and openness was contagious. He didn’t often express thoughts like that, but to be honest, out of all the words he truly wanted to say to her, those were probably the most reserved.
“Thank you, Damon. I think that’s the nicest thing a boss has ever said to me.”
He took a deep breath, allowing his eyes to drop to her mouth. “I would tell you the same thing even if I wasn’t your boss.”
“I, uh, should go downstairs and check on the staff,” she said hoarsely.
He continued to gaze at her. She was so lovely with those dark expressive eyes and china-doll complexion. He was already regretting his decision to not kiss her. “Yeah, that would be a good idea.”
Kinsley stood and gathered her purse. Tucking some of her long brown hair behind her ears, she turned toward him one last time. “I’ll have Elena send up something for you to eat.”
He nodded then couldn’t resist adding, “You know, I was wrong about this room.”
“How so?”
“This room isn’t just pretty nice. It is awesome, and actually…” he said, slowly meeting her gaze, “quite beautiful when you look at it more closely.”
She swallowed, her cheeks coloring pink. “Well, I’m glad you chose it.”
“Me too.”
…
Kinsley managed to run home, grab a quick shower, and come back to work in record time to meet with the landscapers. It was one thing to work on the inside with the painting, but in her opinion, the outside needed a little TLC as well.
“Bob, can’t we do something a little cheaper?” she asked, gazing down at the estimate he’d brought her. She was already on thin ice with Damon regarding expenses. There was no way he’d approve this bill.
The landscaper put on his glasses, took the paper from her hand, and began analyzing his own quote. “I don’t know, Kinsley. This isn’t all that fancy. In fact, what I proposed is pretty standard stuff.”
“We don’t need mulch, and can’t you get some natural flowers or plants that are more prone to the shore area? That has to make it cheaper.”
Bob scratched his head then nodded. “Okay, let me take this back to the office and I’ll email a new proposal this afternoon.”
Kinsley smiled. “I knew you could do it, Bob. You’re the best.”
He rolled his eyes, waving her off. “Yeah, yeah. I better leave now before you cut my estimate down any further,” he said with a chuckle.
She laughed, too, walking over to the door of her office and showing him out. “I’ll be waiting for that new quote.”
As Bob the landscaper was leaving her office, Elena walked in. She carried a mug of steaming coffee and a bagel. “Hey, I figured you could use this,” she said, placing them both down on Kinsley’s desk.
Kinsley wanted to high-five her. She was so pressed for time this morning, after finally leaving Damon, she hadn’t been able to put on lip gloss let alone put something in her stomach. “I hope Scott knows how lucky he is to be marrying you.” She bit into the blueberry bagel and sighed as the melted cream cheese slid down her throat.
“Oh, he knows. And I hope a certain Mr. Damon St. James knows how lucky he is to have you as his hotel manager. So did you sleep with him last night?”
Kinsley choked on her bagel.
“I mean, help him last night?”
“You know I helped him. So why make it sound sordid?”
Elena sat down, nonchalantly studying her manicure. “Oh, just pointing out that what you did for him was beyond employer–employee relations, which was very kind, by the way. Damon seemed quite grateful to you. He told me so when I brought his food up to him.”
“He did? What did he say exactly?” Because when Damon was with her, he barely said much, which had disappointed her. She couldn’t understand why she even let it affect her so much. But…it’s just that she thought they were friends now. She knew he was hurting and bothered by his brother’s death. He obviously needed someone to talk to about it. She’d just hoped it would have been her.
Elena watched her for several seconds then slowly arched an eyebrow. “You were with him all night. Didn’t you two talk, or were you too busy doing other things?” she said, grinning.
“Elena! He was sick. He slept, and I made sure he didn’t get worse. That’s all.”
Elena nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Okay, maybe I made a few cool compresses for his head. That’s it.”
“I see.”
“And maybe I set the alarm to give him pain relievers and fluids round the clock, too. That’s really all.”
The room went silent for a long moment.
“Honey, you like him, don’t you?” Elena asked in a gentle tone.
Kinsley dropped her face into her hands. “Oh my gosh, I think I do. I do like him. I can’t believe it, but I’m falling for my boss.”
“I knew it. It’s probably more common than we think. Two single people spending so much time together…”
Kinsley gasped and looked up. “This is Paul all over again, isn’t it? What’s wrong with me? I’m repeating the same mistake with Damon.”
“Now, honey, calm down. This is completely diff—”
“No, it’s not.” She stood up and began pacing the room. This was exactly what she was afraid would happen. She couldn’t allow herself to be drawn to Damon, at least not while they were working together. Her relationship with Paul had suffered because of work. Paul had lured her into working with him with sob stories about needing her expertise in event planning only to ultimately use her and her ideas. She wouldn’t be taken advantage of again. She’d learned the hard way that it was definitely best to keep work and love separate. “It’s exactly the same. Well, I’m not going to let it affect my job this time. Or my heart.”
Elena stood, too. “Kinsley, look, I don’t mean to upset you. But you have to understand Damon isn’t Paul.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m standing here in the flesh,” said a familiar voice.
Shock then embarrassment hit her hard that he would have overheard their conversation. Kinsley had already braced herself by the time they both turned toward the direction of the doorway. However, it wasn’t enough. She still had to hold on to the back of the chair for support when her gaze met Paul’s.