“Yes. How do you feel about breakfast in bed?”
“I think it ranks right up there with all of your other brilliant ideas. I’ll get the iPad so we can look at the menu.” He slipped from the bed.
“Evan,” she suddenly said. That curious emotional pull she’d been feeling so strongly of late came rushing back.
“Yes?”
“I just…I mean…” She laughed softly. “I’m such an idiot.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “Why?”
“Because I don’t know how to say what I want to say.”
Urgh. That was so lame.
He gave her a dubious look. “You never lack for something to say, sweetheart.”
Oh, God. There was that word again. The affectionate name no one had ever called her. The one she’d never considered she was missing out on hearing. Until now.
When Evan said it, somehow it made her feel as though she was a part of something.
She mentally shook her head. Did that make any sense at all? She didn’t know. Because Staci couldn’t put the right words, the right sentiment, to how she was feeling about their relationship.
So she simply said, “I had a great time last night. Again.”
He grinned. “I did, too. And all of the arrangements we talked about are made, though I figured you’d want to contact Jean personally about restaurant reservations. However, in the event we can’t get into Le Jules Verne, I’ve already spoken with the concierge at the Four Seasons in Paris, where we’ll be staying, about a backup plan. He can arrange a private dinner on a river boat on the Seine, one on the grounds of a Loire Valley palace or…on our balcony.”
He wagged his brows. Staci laughed.
“The latter is convenient for anything we might want to do after dinner,” she said.
His smile was pure wicked. “Oui.”
“Honestly, Evan. I don’t care where we have dinner. We could pack up charcuterie and wine and eat on the sidewalk outside the Louvre. The whole point is that we’re in Paris, on Valentine’s Day—together.”
He nodded. “Point taken.” He returned to the bed and kissed her. Then said, “You never cease to boggle my mind. Thank you for being so goddamn persistent, Staci Kay.”
“Always happy to push your buttons, Dr. Hart.”
He gave a half snort. Then he went back to consulting the room service menu. They ordered just about everything on it and spent nearly two hours lounging and grazing. Eventually, they showered and stopped off at Evan’s apartment for him to change clothes.
“Feel free to snoop,” he said before disappearing into one of the bedrooms.
The entire floor he occupied was stylish, yet masculine. Clearly devoid of any feminine influence or props that would lure women into a false sense of security that Evan was looking for someone to share his space.
This didn’t alarm her. The same, in gender reversal, could be said about Staci’s home in Baltimore.
They really were two peas in a pod. Both hindered by something emotional in the past that left them focused solely on their careers.
And, yet, here they were. Innately drawn to each other and actually willing to do something about it.
While Evan changed, Staci placed a quick call to her sister to say she wouldn’t be able to make the cruise, but urged Jen to go. Jen told her she’d already made the reservation through their mother.
Staci was relieved. It’d do Jen good to get out and about. Staci was seeing that quite clearly now, from her own perspective.
Next, she texted Maxi to say she’d be out of the office a bit longer. And told her she’d be in Santa Barbara over the weekend and Paris on Monday with Dr. Snark—Maxi’s nickname for Evan, since Staci had chronicled her traipsing across the country via text as the adventure had unfolded. She had yet to tell her friend about the initial hookup. That was more of an in-person reveal.
Staci’s phone rang five seconds after she hit the Send button for the text.