Free Persuading Spring: A Sexy New Zealand Romance (The Four Seasons Book 4) by Serenity Woods

nodded. “I’ll stay.”
    Relief crossed his features. “All right
then. You look shattered. Why don’t you get into bed? I’ll leave the TV on
while I read, and maybe you’ll doze off after a while.”
    So she visited the bathroom, then, while he
pointedly turned away to tidy Mateo’s clothes up, she slipped off the track pants,
slid into the bed, and curled up with a pillow. By the time he turned around,
her eyelids were already drooping.
    He dropped to his haunches beside her and
smiled. “Goodnight.”
    “’Night.”
    “By the way, when you rang your friend
earlier, you said ‘It’s Birdie.’ Is that what you prefer to be called?”
    Her parents and Hitch had always called her
Birdie, and all her friends did now. Mal had used the nickname and called her
things like Tweety Pie. She’d never really thought about it before. Suddenly,
though, it seemed childish, a symbol of the innocence and naivety she now
despised.
    Aaron had recognized that her name belonged
to the goddess of spring. She liked the way it sounded on his lips.
    She gave a little shake of her head. “You
can call me Bridget.”
    His eyes creased at the edges. He
understood. “All right, Bridget. Sleep tight.”
    He crossed to the other side of Mateo and
got into bed. The TV flickered, and he changed it to the news and lay there for
a while watching the headlines move across the bottom of the screen. Then he
picked up his iPad and started reading.
    Bridget had wondered whether she would lie
there for ages reliving the morning, feeling the humiliation boiling in her
stomach, but instead she listened to Mateo’s light snoring and the sounds of
the evening traffic far in the distance, and her eyes closed.
     

Chapter Eight
    The taxi pulled up outside Rowan and
Hitch’s apartment block. She paid the driver with the cash that Aaron had leant
her, went up to the front door, and buzzed their flat.
    “It’s me,” she said when Hitch answered.
She’d rung him that morning to say she’d be around to pick up her purse and
house keys, telling him, “Talk later,” when he began to ask her questions.
    “Thank God.” He buzzed her in.
    She walked up the stairs slowly, her
footsteps quiet in Aaron’s socks, still shoeless. When she arrived outside
Hitch’s door, it was open, and he was leaning against the doorjamb, waiting for
her. She walked along the corridor and stopped in front of him.
    He looked down at her. “You all right?”
    She nodded mutely.
    He sighed, stepped forward, and wrapped his
arms around her. “Oh Birdie. I’ve been so worried.”
    She accepted the hug, but couldn’t stop a
flicker of irritation. Aaron’s hug had meant to console and comfort her. Hitch
was focused on himself, on his fear that something had happened to her. It was
lovely that she had people who cared about her, but he’d known she was in a
hotel and that she was safe. He needn’t have worried. She wasn’t a child.
    Eventually, she pushed at his chest, and he
released her and stepped back. She walked past him into the flat and was
immediately enfolded in another pair of arms as Rowan hugged her tightly.
    “Birdie! Thank God. I’m so glad you’re all
right.”
    “Of course I’m all right.” She tried to
suppress her frustration—they meant well. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I needed
some time to myself, that was all.”
    Rowan released her, and they both watched
her somewhat warily as she walked through to the kitchen. “Is that fresh coffee
in the pot?” she asked.
    “Yes, let me pour you a cup,” Rowan said.
    “I can do it myself.” She did so, conscious
of her sharp tone and aware they were exchanging a glance. “Sorry,” she said,
bringing the mug into the living room. She sat in the chair, and the two of
them sat on the sofa opposite her.
    “It’s okay.” Rowan surreptitiously slid her
hand between her and her fiancé, and Hitch clasped it in his own. Bridget’s
lips curved up. She was so glad that her brother and Rowan had