The Possessive Groom by Alexa Riley

Chapter 5

Lindsey

Istand close to the mirror, putting on my mascara. I take my time doing it how the twins taught me because I was never big on makeup. Growing up it was more about getting food in your stomach than buying pretty things.

Even when I got older and did have extra money, it was hard to spend it on makeup. If I did, it was because I was getting it for the girls as a gift or because I knew they wanted it. We might only be a few years apart in age, but I’d fallen into a motherly role with them from the beginning, and I don’t think I’ll ever break away from that.

Working behind the scenes at a diner most of my life, I wasn't worrying about how pretty I was to get extra tips. I worried about what shoes would keep my feet from aching at the end of a twelve-hour shift.

Now as I stare in the mirror, I wish I had paid a bit more attention to what the makeup artists did to me every time I had to go to events with Darian and Rosy. I do the best I can because I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard. Then again, how would Gibson know I was trying at all? He doesn't know the poor version of Lindsey. He has no idea if I wear makeup normally or not.

I look at myself in the mirror and sigh. “What are you doing?” I’m more than willing to admit last night was fun—more than fun. Gibson is different, and we clicked. He was so easy to talk to, and before I knew it, it was midnight. The storm eased, and eventually it was time to return to my room.

We missed the rest of the evening’s events, but with how much everyone was drinking yesterday, I’m hoping everyone else did too. I’m sure most crashed after dinner when the power went out and the storm rolled over us.

When I exit my bathroom suite, I see Mary sitting at the dining room table sipping a cup of coffee with her laptop open. She clicks away until she sees me enter, and then she peers up at me over her glasses.

“How do you do that? I didn't even hear you.”

She gives me a rueful smile as she pours me a cup of coffee. “Late night?”

I snag the cup quickly and take a quick sip to hide my heating face. I don’t know if I’ve ever blushed so much before, because it happened a time or two last night. Gibson makes me feel so different, and I don’t know what to do with all of it. It’s not like I ever dated anyone, or even flirted. There was never time for stuff like that in high school or beyond.

Last night I felt him making excuses to touch me, and the rush of emotions I felt in different parts of my body was new and exciting. I want more of it, but that’s playing a dangerous game. I’m not necessarily his boss, but I’ve always known better than to get romantic with someone I worked with.

“It was hard to fall asleep,” I admit, and it’s not a lie. I lay in bed for hours wondering if Gibson was having trouble doing the same. I didn’t want to leave his room, and he wasn’t exactly anxious for me to leave either. At times I could swear he was flirting with me, but he never tried anything.

After tossing and turning, I finally resorted to letting fantasies play out in my mind while I got myself off. It helped some but apparently not enough. Because afterwards I kept wondering what it would be like if it was truly his hands between my thighs last night and not my own.

I set the cup down and grab my sandals. The storm must have broken earlier, because the sun is out, making the beach look warm and inviting. I’m not sure how long it’s going to last, but I’m guessing everyone is going to want to be outside while they can to enjoy the beach for a moment.

“You got your bikini on under that suit, Mary?” I tease.

Today I’m sticking with her advice to be comfortable. I have on jean shorts and a simple white top with my swimsuit on under my clothes.

“Always.” She winks at me, making me laugh.

“So, anyone say anything?” I’m hoping everything went well yesterday, but I know Mary will tell me the truth. Their words might sting on how I arranged the day, but I should know nonetheless.

“Not to me, but I’ll get with Cora today. She always knows everything.”

“And she tells you?” I lift a brow at her.

“Everything. It’s part of her job,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Damn, Mary, you don’t fuck around,” I laugh.

“You’re surprised?”

“Not really. It’s smart. Cora is…” I trail off. There is something about her that makes you want to talk. I’ve had to bite my tongue a few times. “She’s sweet,” I finish, and Mary’s lip twitches.

I start packing up a bag for the day and check my emails. The time slowly drags by for breakfast and I tap my foot as I send texts to the twins and check in. When it’s five minutes till nine I pop up from my seat, ready to go.

“Someone is hungry this morning.”

I shrug, trying to pretend to be casual when I’m anything but. I’m ready to see Gibson again, and I don’t like admitting that, even to myself.

“Are you okay, Lindsey? Everything went great yesterday so I thought you’d be more relaxed this morning.”

“I’m relaxed,” I say too quickly when we exit the suite and step onto the elevator.

I can feel her eyes on me as we ride down in silence to the private dining area. When I walk in, my eyes scan the room, and they stop when I see the Gibson’s broad back. There is no missing him since he’s bigger than any of the other men.

He’s standing with Cora and she’s laughing at something he says as he makes himself a cup of coffee. I give a few smiles to some of the people that are already seated as I make my way across the room.

“Morning,” I say, sliding up to the coffee machine to make my own cup. My heart flutters with excitement, and I want to tell myself to quit being a teenager with a crush.

“Morning,” I hear Gibson say, his voice rough around the edges.

I meet his gaze for a moment and try to hide my smile.

“Good morning. I’m so glad we got some sun for today,” Cora chirps, looking ready to hit the beach in her sundress with the straps of her swimsuit showing underneath.

“I think it will be good for everyone to get out,” I agree, but Gibson says nothing.

“Except for Peter.” Cora leans in close. “I brought the SPF 100 for him.”

“Do they make 100?” I laugh.

“Not here,” Peter says dryly, joining us. I see the laughter in his eyes. “Forty is as high as they had in the gift shop.” We all laugh except Gibson, and the silence starts to grow.

“I’m starving,” Cora says to break it, and we all agree.

“Let’s grab some seats,” Peter suggests. “Mark! You got a second?” He walks away from us and sits down with Mark.

I grab an empty table and pull my phone out. I pretend to play on it while watching where Gibson is going to sit. The server walks over to take my order, and my heart drops as I see him sit down with Cora.

She laughs at something he says, and his eyes meet mine from across the room. I divert them quickly, wondering if I’d read too much into our time together last night. My heart stops racing, and a different feeling settles in—one I should be used to.

Rejection.