War of Hearts(66)

Conall grinned despite himself. “You asked first.”

“I didn’t ask you about sex.”

The word hung heavily in the air between them, and Conall found he couldn’t think of another subject to distract them with. Instead, they fell into a silence that wasn’t as comfortable as it had been before.





*



The hotel at Neumünster had taken inspiration from its Scandinavian neighbors. The reception was a huge, open-plan space with a quirky mix of industrial and natural materials. There were exposed pipes along the ceiling, but a beautiful fire on a partition wall. The fire was low to the ground, built between two pieces of marble, the top part of which had holes cut into it where the firewood was stored.

A massive corner sofa sat opposite the fire, with bean cushions and a large wooden coffee table. There was a reception desk near the fire, a bar, and a shop selling everything from wine to clothing.

Beyond the reception was another bar and restaurant and all the rooms were on the two floors above.

Conall watched Thea take in the surroundings with a quiet look of pleasure. Her expression made him book a suite. “With twin beds instead of a king,” he requested.

“I’m sorry, sir.” The blond receptionist was almost as well built as Conall. “Our suites only come with a king.” He’d flicked an inquisitive look at Thea, obviously wondering why Conall wouldn’t want to share a bed with her.

He buried an agitated snarl. “But the room has a pull-out sofa?”

“Yes, sir.”

There was nothing technically to stop him booking two rooms. He trusted Thea not to run. But for her safety, she should stay with him.

“That’s fine.” He’d take the sofa.

Once they had their room sorted, Conall booked them a table at the restaurant and went one step further by insisting on buying Thea a pair of pajamas in the hotel gift shop.

“You don’t have to do that.” She waved away his offer.

“Do you want to sleep in your jeans?”

She wrinkled her adorable nose. “Well … okay, then.” Thea grinned up at him, her eyes dancing. “Thanks.”

Conall quickly looked away. His heart was beating too fast.

It was that fucking conversation in the car.

“Pick something.” He was gruff.

Things only worsened when they strode into the room. The bed was luxurious and inviting and the sofa was absolutely not. His legs would dangle over the bloody thing.

“I’ll take the sofa,” Thea said, dropping her rucksack on it.

“Like hell.” He grabbed the backpack and dumped it on the bed. “You’ll take the bloody bed.”

“I’m shorter. I’ll take the sofa.”

“You’ll take the bed and be grateful for it,” he snapped.

She scowled at him. “What crawled up your ass in the last twenty minutes, huh?”

“I’m sorry, I didnae realize offering you the bed was a bad thing.” He was being deliberately obtuse, and they both knew it.

“It’s not the bed, it’s your tone.”

“I dinnae have a tone.”

“There.” She gestured to him. “That is a tone.”

Fuck, they sounded like his mum and dad when they argued. Like an old married couple.

Conall rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the thick bristle of a beard forming. He needed to shave, and eat, and he needed to sleep.

And he needed to not be a bastard to Thea just because he was totally and utterly fucked in the head. The big one and the little one. “Sorry,” he sighed. “Just restless from driving so long.”

“I told you I’d take a turn.”

“It’s fine, lass. I’m going to wash up before we head down to dinner.”

The restaurant was busy with moody low lighting and a Scandinavian casualness in its simple furnishings. As they sat opposite each other at the small table Conall dwarfed, renewed tension fell between them.

Thea was the first to break the silence as they waited on their food. “Tell me more about Pack MacLennan.”

So Conall spoke of his people and of Torridon, of life in the Scottish Highlands, and his role as alpha and CEO. “Sometimes I tire of all the paperwork but it’s a small price to pay for our blessings.”

“I can’t exactly imagine you stuck in an office, signing contracts and going through accounts.” She smiled wryly at the thought.

“You’re not wrong. I visit the distillery as much as possible. I like to help there when I can. And my delta, Mhairi, runs our fishing company out of Loch Torridon. Sometimes I go out and help her crew. I also volunteer with Scottish Mountain Rescue. Anything to be out of doors.”

“And to save lives.” Her expression was searching, serious, and worse, admiring. “Don’t sell yourself short, Conall. You do it to help people.”

He shrugged. “I’m stronger. I can help where others cannae, I suppose.”

“So you’re not just about your pack,” she teased.

“Dinnae be fooled, Thea. Callie was the one who talked me into volunteering.”

She laughed, and Conall watched.

It was hard not to.

The tension lingered between them as they seemed unable to look anywhere but at each other. Yet conversation was easy as they ate, sharing childhood stories and more laughter than he thought possible after the violence of the last few days. Only days between them and yet it felt longer. Much longer.