Page 40 of Sunny Skies Ahead (Watford Sweethearts #2)

Chapter twenty-nine

Imogen

T he next day, we spent the entire car ride in our own worlds.

All three of us had different ways of handling travel.

Lucas took up residence in the passenger seat, citing his motion sickness as justification for why he needed to be up front, and I sat in the back, perfectly content to gaze out the window as the rural Washington mountains gave way to highways and cities.

When I got bored, I flipped open my e-reader and continued binging the fantasy series I’d started weeks earlier.

We stopped for lunch at a gas station where we could both refuel and eat chicken nuggets.

Lucas let out a low whistle as we walked into the lobby of the hotel hours later, and I was inclined to agree with him. The hotel was hands down the fanciest establishment I’d ever been in.

“Before you thank me, I didn’t choose this hotel,” Kam said. “The Warrior’s Foundation did.”

“They’re so wining and dining us.”

I shot Lucas a glare and rolled my eyes. “They want us close by, goofball. The foundation building is only a block away. They’re keeping tabs on us.”

“Fine by me,” Lucas said, still taking in the vaulted ceilings and plush carpets of the lobby space.

It was very new age and modern, with vintage accents sprinkled throughout in the form of a velvet armchair or an abstract painting.

It looked exactly like a hotel I’d expected to find in a place like Seattle, the epitome of vintage elegance, perfect for someone who loved the eclectic and moody rather than dreary beige tones.

Kameron left Lucas gawking in the middle of the lobby, and I awkwardly found a seat, determined to keep my distance from the train wreck that was Lucas Morales.

He looked like such an outlier in this plush hotel with his black beard, flannel, and worn in jeans and boots. He never failed to amaze me.

“I didn’t take you for an art buff,” I said teasingly when walked towards me, still regarding the large artwork in the foyer.

“I’m not,” Lucas said, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m mostly trying to figure out how they got it up there in the first place,” he said, gesturing to a massive painting on the right wall.

Large, overlapping brushstrokes dominated the canvas.

The artist had chosen mostly earthy tones that reflected the Washington forests.

It was the kind of painting that housed a different interpretation for every person who looked at it.

The illustration brought me a small sense of comfort. It felt like there was a small piece of Watford hanging in the hotel. If I was a believer in some kind of higher power, I would have taken that as a sign of good things to come.

“We’re all checked in,” Kameron said, returning to us.

I grabbed my duffel bag and stood, gesturing for him to lead the way to the elevator.

Lucas fell in line behind us, and I rolled my eyes when I noticed he’d been staring at a woman from across the lobby.

The man wasted no time. Lucas had already regaled me with tales of how it was “slim pickings” in Watford, and he was ready to hang out in a bigger city for a while.

“What’s the sleeping arrangement?” Lucas asked, not deigning to look up at either of us while scrolling on his phone.

“Imogen and I are sharing a room,” Kameron murmured. Lucas made a gagging noise.

“Good,” I said, and Kameron’s gaze heated. I couldn’t stop the smile that took over my face, and I decided I didn’t want to.

The elevator doors opened, and I eagerly stepped into the hallway of our floor, grabbing the keycard from Kameron’s outstretched hand. Kam handed Lucas his keycard. His room was a few doors down from ours.

“I swear to God, if the two of you wake me up with your sexual escapades tonight, I’ll commit a homicide.”

“It’s a good thing my lawyer sister lives here them,” I quipped. “Sounds like we’ll need her services.”

My breath caught when the full meaning of my words set in.

Cassie . I hadn’t so much as thought about trying to meet my sister while I was in town. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come to Seattle. I’d want her to visit me if the roles were reversed.

Then again, Cassie had never yielded her pride and come home to Watford to visit any of us.

I didn’t need something else distracting me this weekend. Not when there was so much on our plates.

“The same goes for you,” Kam shot back. “And for the love of God, do not be late tomorrow. Go have fun, but don’t be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lucas said before retreating into his room.

Kam opened our door, gesturing for us to step inside. I walked past the bathroom and the entryway table, my eyes widening at the spacious layout and modern amenities. There was a plush king size bed in the center of the bedroom space, overflowing with fluffy pillows and lush blankets.

“If it’s okay with you, I’m going to see if there’s a gym in this place,” Kam said. He dropped his duffle bag on the floor and grabbed his gym clothes.

I raised my eyebrows. “You want to work out? Now?”

Kameron gave me a teasing grin. “Lifting heavy weights is how some of us work through our stress and anxiety.”

“Ah,” I said. “Of course.”

“And, me going to the gym means that you have the room for yourself to listen to your music and shake it out.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

“How in the world did you know I do that? You know what, don’t answer that. I bet Abbie told you.”

“I saw you,” Kam murmured, and a fresh wave of heat flushed to my cheeks.

“It was after we’d finished one of our grant proposals.

You were stressed about whether or not it was good enough, and after we hit submit, you headed back to the tiny house.

A few minutes later, I realized you’d left your water bottle on the kitchen table, and I wanted to return it to you.

As I made my way down the hill, I saw you dancing through the kitchen window.

You had your headphones on and you were dancing with your eyes closed like no one was watching.

I admittedly watched you for longer than I probably should have, and I realized you were working through something, so I just. . .”

“You set the water bottle down on the porch,” I murmured, rubbing my hand along my arm. “I’d thought I was going crazy when I saw it there, but it was just you.”

Kameron rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “Yeah, it was me.”

Something warm spread throughout my body, a homey feeling that overpowered my apprehension about the grant presentations.

“Thank you,” I whispered. Kameron took a step towards me, and I tilted my face towards him out of instinct. Kameron’s hands cupped my face as he kissed me, and my God, I didn’t know how I’d gone two whole days without his hands on me.

I let out a small breath as we pulled away, my eyes closing of their own volition as I focused only on the feeling of Kameron’s hands against my skin.

“You dance it out, I’ll get a gym session in, and then we’ll order room service and go over the grant presentation a thousand times in a futile effort to alleviate our shared anxiety.”

I chuckled as I stepped to the side .

“Sounds like a plan, lover boy.”

“What happened to cowboy?”

“Lover boy fits you better,” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Nicknames are supposed to evolve.”

“I guess I’ll have to work harder to come up with one for you.”

The idea of Kameron giving me a nickname sent a wave of heat through my body. This was what it was supposed to feel like. This awareness of someone, the ache when they weren’t around, the anticipation of seeing them again.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I said, my voice slightly breathy.

Kameron simply winked and ducked into the bathroom to change. I quickly grabbed his phone and scrolled to his contacts, writing down the number I needed on the hotel notepad. I returned his phone to his duffle bag so he wouldn’t be suspicious.

As soon as he left the room, I grabbed my phone and dialed.

“Hi Gail,” I said. “My name is Imogen Phillips. We met a few weeks ago—”

“Imogen!” Gail said, sounding positively delighted that I’d called. “Of course I remember you. How are things? Is Kam alright?”

The hint of concern in her tone made me smile. I was glad Kameron had people in his life who looked out for him outside of our little group.

“He’s good. We’re actually in Seattle this weekend. The judges selected Winding Road as a finalist for a monumental grant that could sustain us for a long time, and we’re here for presentations so they can make their final decision.

“That’s wonderful,” Gail exclaimed. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Actually, there is. This whole process has stressed Kameron out immensely. I was thinking it would be nice if. . .”

I dove into explaining my idea. Kam had support from the people closest to him, but given how monumental this presentation was in the life of his nonprofit, I wanted to honor his father’s legacy.

Luckily, I knew just what that was, and Gail was thankfully on board.

“I’m tearing up,” Gail said. “I’ll get right on this. Can you send me your email?”

Once the logistics were in place, I sat back and waited for Gail to send me what I needed.

I also phoned Abbie and Lucas, and gave them the rundown on what I needed from them. Abbie had immediately jumped on it, and I knew Lucas wouldn’t be far behind based on the text I received less than an hour after I’d called him with the request.

Lucas Morales

This is a really good idea, Im. He’ll appreciate it more than you know. Let me know if you need help editing.

It would be a quick turnaround between receiving the files and the grant presentation tomorrow, but I’d stay up all night if it meant I got it done.

I could only hope Lucas was right, and that Kam would appreciate it the way I thought he would.