He’d think about that later. Right now he had to figure out where they were going for Libby St. Clair Day. What would make her the happiest?
He gasped when the answer hit him, and he pulled out his laptop to search the Internet for wacky tourist attractions. He’d made a list and mapped a few out by the time she emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair hanging in loose waves over her shoulders and down her back. Her long sexy legs peeked out from under his shirt, which hung mere inches below the curve of her ass. Every nerve ending pinged at the sight of her and he resisted the urge to jump up and show her how much he wanted her. He forced himself to act natural.
“Feel better?”
“Yeah.”
He slowly stood, trying to be nonchalant.
She nodded to his laptop. “You working?”
“Working?” he teased, even though the reminder that he was no longer employed made his stomach sink. “There’s no real work allowed on Libby St. Clair Day. Only play. I was planning it for us.”
Her eyes lit up with excitement. “What did you come up with?”
He shook his head and closed the lid. “It’s a surprise.”
“That’s hardly fair.”
“It’s perfectly fair.” He grabbed his T-shirt and toiletry bag. “I’m going to take a shower now.”
“All right.”
He grinned. There was a cute smirk on her face—the one she always got when she was up to something sneaky. “Feel free to try and figure out the password on my laptop. It’s unbreakable.”
Her eyes widened in mock indignation, but she didn’t try to protest. She knew he had her figured out.
When he emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, he found her on the bed, propped up against the headboard on a pile of pillows. The covers were pulled back, but her bare legs were tucked to the side and his computer was on her lap. She looked up, not even pretending to hide what she’d been doing.
God, he loved that about her.
“No luck, huh?” he asked smugly.
She started to respond, then stopped, lifting her gaze up from his legs to his face. “No.”
Was she bothered by his lack of pants? The shirt he’d picked covered all the essential parts in the front, but left his briefs-covered ass exposed in the back. Libby wasn’t the kind of woman to be offended by naked bodies. If anything, her art background made her appreciate the human form more than most people. So if it wasn’t his body in general, did that mean she was affected by him?
Could she want him too?
His pulse quickened at the thought, but he told himself that he had to take this slow. She needed time, and right now she needed him to be her friend. And while it was no secret that Noah had slept with more women than was respectable, Libby had her own more-than-healthy share of short-lived relationships.
Lately he’d found himself in the strange situation of offering others advice in matters of the heart, so he made himself take a step back and fill that role for himself. What advice would he give another person in his situation? He’d encouraged Garrett to go for it, but Garrett had only had days to convince Blair to cancel her wedding. Libby had already run out of hers. He’d gotten to know Libby well enough to realize she was vulnerable now. It wouldn’t take much to convince her to sleep with him, but he also knew her well enough to realize that if she did sleep with him, it would be as a short-term emotional Band-Aid.
Of course, a short-term fling could blossom into something more, but when they slept together, he wanted her fully committed to making this thing between them work. His thought process stunned him. He’d never before given any consideration to how a woman would feel about sleeping with him. Only that she did.
What the hell had happened to him? Of course, the answer was simple, even if it had taken him months to figure it out: Libby St. Clair.
“Noah?”
She had to wonder why he was just standing there, gawking at her. What had they been talking about? Oh, yeah. His password.
“My laptop is more secure than Fort Knox.” He moved to the other side of the bed and sat down, trying to act like sitting next to her on the bed they were going to sleep in together was no big deal.
“Is that a challenge?” Her voice rose with excitement.
“Sure, if that makes you happy. I’d prefer to call it a worthless endeavor.”
She closed the computer and handed it to him. He set it on the nightstand, worried he’d stolen her playfulness, but while she wasn’t bursting with happiness, she wasn’t frowning either.
He started to slide closer to her, but there was a knock at the door. Libby stiffened, her body tense with anxiety, and Noah slid off the bed. “I’ll check and see who it is.”
He peered through the peephole, and was surprised to see a hotel employee with a room service tray. “You must have the wrong room,” he said, opening the door. “We didn’t order anything.”
The older man dressed in black pants and a white long-sleeved shirt paired with a black bow tie cleared his throat. “Compliments of the hotel. For your wedding night.” His eyes shifted to Noah’s crotch, but he abruptly lifted his gaze and held out a tray with a bottle of champagne, two plastic cups, and a piece of shriveled angel food cake.
Noah tried to hide his grin as he took the tray.
“Is it true?” the man asked. “Did she . . . you know?”
Noah gave a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back and lowering his voice. “Yeah, she’s vicious in bed. I can show you the foot-long scar if you like. It’s still pretty fresh.”