Because You're Mine(59)

“None of us are above cleaning,” Ciara said. “Except maybe Fiona, and she’ll do it because she has to.”

Fiona sniffed. “I always keep my own room clean. I don’t like maids to touch my things.”

“Righto, let’s get to it then,” Ciara said. “Where shall we start?”

Alanna rose. “This way.”

The place felt creepy to Jesse. Even more so than the last time he was here and they practiced in the ballroom. He couldn’t explain it, but walking down the wide upstairs hallway, he expected someone to grab him from the shadows. The air smelled musty too. Would Alanna expect him to go home at night? He wanted to be here to protect her. She might not realize she needed protection, but Jesse sensed it.

She reached a spot where the hall formed a T, then went left. The hallway went on forever with doorways interrupting the soft green plaster walls every so often. “Help yourself,” she said. “I haven’t checked these rooms yet. Maybe they’re in better shape than the ones I saw in the wing where Barry and I have our rooms.”

She’d said rooms. Jesse wondered if anyone else noticed. She must not be sharing a room with Barry, and Jesse hid a smile at that knowledge. He didn’t want anyone else touching her, kissing her.

He opened the closest door. A double bed and dresser furnished the room. “It’s not too bad.” Thick dust lay on the floor. He stepped inside and sat on the edge of the mattress. The springs creaked, but the mattress held him. “It doesn’t sag too much. A good vacuuming and it’s doable.”

“I’ll get the vacuum,” Alanna said. “It’s in the other wing.” She exited the room.

Jesse rose and followed Ciara to the next room. “This one isn’t too bad either.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Smells funny.”

“Mold,” Fiona pronounced. “Mold is dangerous to your health. I don’t want to stay here.”

“Good luck finding another place,” Ena said. “We can wash it down with bleach water.”

“Maybe.” Fiona’s voice held skepticism.

All the rooms were basic carbon copies. Double beds, a dresser, bare wood floors. The bed linens were rotted and so were the drapes, but the furniture was sound. Jesse knew Barry hadn’t wanted them here. What was he going to say when he found them ensconced in his house without his permission? Jesse thought he wouldn’t mind trading punches with Alanna’s new husband.

Alanna came down the hall lugging a vacuum. “Here it is.”

“You have bleach somewhere?” Fiona asked. “I’m not sleeping in mold.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Alanna said. “I’ll get it. It’s downstairs.” She sounded distracted and kept glancing behind her.

“You worried about Barry?” Jesse asked. “What he’ll say about us being here?”

She bit her lip. “I’m sure he’ll be fine with it,” she said, but her voice indicated the opposite.

Ciara crossed her arms over her chest. “He promised we’d have a place.”

“I know he intended to have it all ready. His parents are here . . .” Her voice trailed off as if she wasn’t quite sure how to explain.

“Let’s get this place cleaned up,” Jesse said, taking pity on Alanna. Her pained expression said it all.

He grabbed the vacuum from her and plugged it in. He yanked down the rotted curtains, and dust swirled into the air and up his nose. He coughed, then pulled the bedding from the mattress. The bare quilted cover was in decent shape with only a few stains. He switched on the vacuum. The sound of the motor drowned out his worry for her.

By the time he finished the room he was claiming as his, Alanna had returned with a bucket, rags, and bleach.

She’d just handed him the cleaning supplies when Barry’s voice boomed out. “Alanna, where are you?”

She blanched. “Up here, in the back wing,” she called.

Footsteps clacked along the wood floors, then Barry appeared around the corner. His smile died when his gaze settled on Jesse and the rest of Ceol peering out of their respective bedrooms. “What’s going on here?”

“The hotel kicked them out,” Alanna said, a plea in her voice. “They’ve nowhere else to go, and these bedrooms aren’t as bad as you thought, Barry. A little cleaning and they’re inhabitable.”

“Kicked them out?” Barry reached his wife and took her arm in his hand. “I’ll call and have a word with them.”

“Too late. It’s a convention, and we’ve already got our rooms started,” Ciara said. “You promised we could stay here, and we’re holding you to it. It will be much more convenient to practice when we’re right here on the premises. Cheaper too.”

“I’ll not have you quartered in such mean spaces,” Barry said. “Really, those mattresses aren’t fit to sleep on.”

“We’ll get plastic covers for them,” Ena put in. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Like a man in a stupor, Barry pointed. “That room is the bathroom. It’s a mess too.”

How much of a mess? Jesse strode to the room he’d indicated and shoved open the door to reveal a utilitarian bathroom with an old toilet that had a tank at the ceiling. The clawfoot tub was in good shape and just needed cleaning. “It’s not bad. Just dirty. We can clean it up.”