by Isla Drake
“Good morning, Mr. Wolfe,” I say. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay so far.”
Instead of turning toward the dining room where breakfast is still being served, he makes his way over to the desk.
“So very professional,” he muses, leaning on the desk.
“This is my job,” I tell him.
He nods. “True.”
“Breakfast is served until 10, Mr. Wolfe,” I say, pointing toward the dining room.
“What do you recommend?”
“Our chef makes the best French toast you’ve ever tasted,” I tell him.
His eyes narrow. “Something hot and sweet might be just what I’m craving,” he says in that low, bedroom voice.
I curse whatever insane part of me is resistant to this man’s charms, because damn. He’s sexy. And he’s working extra hard to get a reaction from me. I feel a hint of boldness in me and decide to mess with Luke for a moment. It’s not something I’d do if I thought he was taking any of this seriously. It’s clearly a game to him. Why not play along? Just for a second. I soften my gaze, letting my professional mask slip just a bit. I give him a genuine smile and lean in toward him. My voice is just above a whisper when I speak.
“Ask for the whipped cream on top.”
His grin is immediate and the smolder in his eyes is something that should be illegal in public. Why can’t I feel a hint of desire for this man? He’s gorgeous, playful and clearly interested in me, even if it’s just for a quick fling. But much as I’d like to want him, I just don’t. Maybe something is wrong with me.
“Can I have that sent to my room?” he asks in that same low voice.
I lean back and don my professional mask once more.
“Of course, Mr. Wolfe,” I say. “Room service is complementary until 9pm.”
His eyes narrow and he shakes his head. “I think I’ll eat in the dining room this morning.”
“Enjoy your meal, Mr. Wolfe.”
He tips his head once in a nod before turning toward the dining room and leaving. I sigh and shake my head after he’s gone. I probably shouldn’t have teased him that way.
“Flirting with guests isn’t very professional.”
I turn to see Finn standing behind me. I wonder how long he’s been there and how much he witnessed of my exchange with Luke. My face goes hot and I know I’m blushing. His face is an impassive mask, but his eyes look furious. I open my mouth to defend myself, not knowing what I plan to say. I have no real defense. But Finn speaks before I can. His voice is cold and hard—something I’ve never heard from him.
“I’d think you would have learned your lesson about letting yourself get swept away by handsome strangers.”
I recoil as though he slapped me. Now I feel the heat of anger sweep over me, pushing aside the embarrassment. Who the hell does he think he is? I speak before I can get ahold of my anger, before I consider what I’m about to say.
“Screw you, Finn,” I say through gritted teeth. “You have no right to judge me.”
“As your boss,” he says, folding his arms over his chest, “I have every right to comment on your unprofessional behavior.”
Part of me knows he’s right, but his comment had been a deliberate reference to my ex. Finn had known his words would hurt me and he’d said them anyway.
“If your concern is professional, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave my personal life out of it. Sir.” If he wants to play the boss card, so be it. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work in my office.”
He says nothing as I push past him. I go directly to my office and close the door. It isn’t until I’m sitting in the chair that I realize my hands are shaking. My eyes fill with tears, but they don’t spill over. I take a shaky breath and let it out. I don’t know who I’m angrier with. Myself, for playing along with Luke’s flirting or Finn for being a total dick about it? Finn, I decide. Definitely Finn.
What gives him the right to talk to me that way? Yes, he’s my boss. But if he had a problem with my professionalism as he’d said, he should have reprimanded me in private. And he should never have brought up my past. He’d acted like a jealous boyfriend. Which is absolutely ridiculous. I sigh and rub my temples where a headache is forming. When had my life become so complicated?
Chapter Eight
Finn
It’s official. I’m an asshole. I keep seeing Hannah’s stricken look as the words left my mouth. It’s a punch in the gut each time. I regretted the words almost as soon as I said them. I don’t know what made me say them. That’s not true. I know exactly why I said it. After yesterday’s conversation with Wyatt, I told myself he was wrong. But when I saw that grinning idiot leering at Hannah, I felt a surge of anger. I can finally admit to myself that I was jealous. Which is stupid since I know Hannah is off-limits. I know I need to find her and apologize for my behavior, but I’m not quite ready for that conversation. I know she’ll ask me why I was such a dick and I don’t think I can look at her and lie. So, I stay close to the front desk and avoid Hannah until Claire shows up for lunch.
“Hey, Finn.” She smiles as she walks in. Claire is the only girl in the family, the baby and the only one who doesn’t have the same dark hair our father had. Instead, she looks remarkably like our mother with coppery red hair falling in waves down her back. The older she gets, the closer she comes to the memory I have in my head of our mom. Not that I tell her that. I’ve seen how uncomfortable it seems to make her when others compare her to Abby King. I’ve never asked her why. For all that we King kids are close, we tend to shy away from talking about our parents. It’s as though we have some unspoken agreement to avoid painful subjects.
Claire makes her way to the counter and shoots me an impatient look.
“You ready?”
I nod. “Sure. I just need to let Hannah know I’m leaving so she can watch the desk.”
I debate my options. I could walk down the short hallway to Hannah’s office, poke my head in her door and tell her I’m leaving for an hour. Or I could call her. Both options would require my speaking to her and her speaking to me. I’m not sure she’ll speak to me at all given her earlier anger. The internal debate lasts all of 10 seconds before I pick up my cell phone and send her a text. I ignore the internal voice telling me how much of a coward I am. Instead, I tell myself I’m giving her time to calm down. She’s angry. She probably doesn’t want to speak to me right now anyway. It’s really for the best. I turn back to Claire who’s watching me with narrowed eyes.
“Ready,” I say, smiling. “I’m starving.”
“Hm,” Claire says as she follows me outside.
We take Claire’s car into town, making small talk as she drives. We talk about the weather, the Jester and Mack’s—the restaurant owned by our twin brothers. We both know the drill. The important stuff has to wait at least until we’ve ordered our entrées. No one wants to argue on an empty stomach. We go to our usual lunch spot—a local diner that has the best corn chowder I’ve ever tasted—and sit in a corner booth. We’ve been here enough that we don’t need to look at a menu. The server comes over with 2 glasses of water and takes our order. After she leaves, Claire waits exactly 3 seconds to pounce.
“What’s wrong with you and Hannah?”
I sputter, nearly choking on the mouthful of water I’d been attempting to swallow. I cough and wipe my mouth with a napkin before responding.
“Nothing,” I say. “Nothing’s wrong with me and Hannah.”
She arches an eyebrow at me. “Then why aren’t you speaking?”
I shake my head, avoiding Claire’s gaze. “We’re speaking,” I mutter.
Claire snorts. “You texted her when she was 10 feet down the hall. You could have called or even walked to her office, but you were clearly avoiding her. Why?”
Damn Claire and her nosy ways. I sigh. “We had a minor disagreement this morning. No big deal.”
“It seems like a big deal if you’re not speaking.”
“It’s not,” I say. “I ju
st need to apologize, and I haven’t done it yet. So, I’m sort of, maybe, avoiding her for the time being.”
Her eyes narrow. “Hm.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs. “Nothing.”
“Fine,” I say. “She was being unprofessional, and I called her on it. Granted, I didn’t do it in the best way. But I wasn’t the only one in the wrong.”
“I see,” she says.
“What?”
Claire looks thoughtful. “It’s just that I’ve known Hannah for a long time and she’s always taken pride in her work. It seems out of character for her. That’s all.”
“Trust me,” I say.
“What did she do that was so wrong?”
“Fine. I walked into reception this morning and she was openly flirting with one of the guests.”
Claire waits a beat before letting out a dramatic gasp. She puts a hand on her chest. “Flirting, you say? Oh, my!”
“Shut up.”
She fans herself and does her best impersonation of Blanche from The Golden Girls. “Well, I think I feel a case of the vapors coming on. Don’t tell me more. I may faint.”
I sit back in the booth and glare at my sister, wishing I’d never told her anything. “You finished?”
Claire grins. “I think so. For now, anyway,” she says, back to her normal voice. She studies me for nearly a full minute as though she’s taking my measure.
Now my eyes narrow. “Spit it out.”
She rolls her eyes, a habit that has annoyed me since she turned 10. “Just that the only 2 people in this town who don’t see that you and Hannah have the hots for each other are you and Hannah.” She shrugs. “I don’t know why you both don’t just go with it. See where it leads.”
Now I roll my own eyes. “First Wyatt and now you. Listen to me. Hannah and I are friends. That’s all. And even if either of us wanted more, it can’t happen. She’s an employee.”
Claire sighs. “You and your honor,” she says. “Listen, Finn. That honorable streak is one of the reasons I love you, but I think it holds you back from going for what you really want. Wouldn’t it be a shame if you missed out on something amazing because of it?”
I’m saved from having to reply by the arrival of our food.
After the server leaves again, Claire meets my gaze. “Give it some thought,” she says in a gentle voice. “I just want you to be happy.”
We eat in silence for several minutes. Eventually I speak, leaving the topic of me and Hannah alone in favor of Claire’s life.
“What about you?” I ask. “Any big plans?” We both know what I’m asking. Have you figured out what you want to be when you grow up? Not that Claire isn’t an adult. At nearly 27, she’s plenty old enough to have chosen a career path.
She makes a face. “No big plans,” she says. “I’m still playing at Mack’s on the weekends. Between that and my painting, I’m making it okay.”
“I know you’re making it, Claire,” I say. “I want you to do more than just make it.”
“I know you do, big brother,” she says smiling. “It’s another reason I love you. But I’m okay. Seriously. I’ll find my path. It just takes some of us a little longer.”
I return the smile, considering her words. I’d been handed my path at the ripe old age of 21. I’d had no choice in the matter after our parents died. Someone needed to step up and run the Jester, take care of the family. As the oldest, it fell to me. I sometimes wonder what I might have done if given the choice, but I think it’s likely I’d have ended up right where I am in the end.
“You could always come work at the Jester,” I say, at least half joking.
Claire wrinkles her nose. “No way,” she says. “I don’t mind helping out when you need me, but I don’t see myself happy working the front desk forever. No offense, Finn.”
I laugh. “None taken,” I say. “I just want you to be happy. Whatever that looks like for you.”
“Thank you,” she says. “You’re a good brother.”
“Obviously.”
We finish our lunch. I pay the bill, as usual. Then Claire drives me back to the Jester. I think about her words as she drives. I’ve never let myself imagine acting on whatever it is I feel for Hannah. Hell, I’ve never let myself really delve into whatever it is I feel for her. Because it can’t happen. I just need to apologize to her for my shitty behavior and let things go back to normal between us. The annoying wedding guest will be gone in a couple of days and we can put all this behind us. I ignore Wyatt’s comment from yesterday replaying in my head. You didn't think you'd be the only one to notice that fact, did you? Sooner or later she's going to find someone who does more than just notice. He's going to tell her. And there won't be a damned thing you can do about it.
I know he’s right. Eventually Hannah will find someone who can be what she needs. I should want that for her. I know I should. I want her to be happy, right? So why does the idea of her with someone else make me so angry?
When I get back to the Jester, I steel myself and go directly to Hannah’s office. I’m going to apologize to her and get things back on track between us. I knock on her office door and she calls out right away.
“Come in.”
I open the door slowly and poke just my head inside. Shooting her my best apology smile, I say, “It’s me. Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind?”
Hannah folds her arms across her chest and her expression turns icy.
“Did you need something?”
I sigh. “I came to apologize. If you’ll let me.”
She narrows her eyes at me before nodding. “Suit yourself.”
I’m not surprised she’s going to make this difficult. I don’t blame her.
I enter the office and close the door for privacy. As soon as I do, I’m struck by how intimate her small office space is with just the two of us here. The rest of the world feels miles away. And Hannah is still shooting daggers at me with her eyes. Right. Apology time. I sit in one of the chairs opposite her desk and lean forward, elbows on my knees. Hannah is still sitting there with her arms crossed tightly, her posture rigid. She gives me an expectant look as if to say, “Get on with it.”
I don’t have to fake my sincerity when I speak. “Hannah, I’m sorry. Truly. What I said was hurtful and completely out of line.”
“Yes, it was.” Her posture relaxes slightly.
“I shouldn’t have gotten involved at all,” I say. “While relationships with guests may be frowned upon, there’s no specific rule against it as long as both parties maintain appropriateness. Who you choose to be involved with is none of my business.”
Hannah relaxes a bit, leaning her elbows on the desk. “You’re right. It is none of your business who I choose to associate with.” She sighs. “But it was unprofessional of me. I should have shut down his advances immediately. I don’t know why I didn’t. For that, I apologize.”
“You don’t need to,” I say. “Hannah, you’re single, young and beautiful. A man would have to be blind not to try and make a move. I can’t really blame him.” She looks at me, a slight blush on her cheeks. “I just think you should be picky. Make sure the guy is worthy of you. That he realizes how amazing you are.” I break off, wondering why I’m saying all these things. My words are too close to the truth, too close to my own complicated feelings.
She smiles. “Thank you. Lately, I’ve started thinking that maybe it’s time for me to get back out there. Try dating again.”
Though I know her words make perfect sense, I still feel an irrational anger at the idea of her dating. It’s the same way I felt when I saw her talking to that jackass earlier. I tamp down the emotion and smile at her.
“You should.” I don’t know how I say the words without choking on them. “You deserve to be happy.”
She nods, meeting my gaze for a long moment. She chews on her lower lip, drawing my attention. She can’t know how badly I want to pull her across the desk and into my arms. I w
onder what it would be like to kiss her, to stop pretending for once. Using a will power I didn’t know I possessed, I manage to tear my gaze away from her mouth. I clear my throat and shift in my chair in an attempt to hide the bulge growing in my pants.
“Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive my shitty attitude.” I smile, trying to take the conversation back to something more casual. It seems to work because Hannah returns the smile and rolls her eyes.
“You know I can’t stay mad at you.” She shrugs. “Of course, I forgive you.”
After my conversation with Hannah, I return to my office. I know I should feel relieved that she’s no longer angry with me, but I’m unsettled. I know why, even if I won’t admit it aloud. I don’t like the idea of Hannah dating. I want to keep her to myself. I know it’s ridiculous of me to feel so possessive over someone I have no claim over, but I can’t seem to help myself. I want Hannah. I want her in a way I’ve never wanted another woman. I nearly laugh at the absurdity. It would be funny if it weren’t so damned pathetic.
I manage to keep myself closed up in my office for most of the afternoon. I don’t need to subject anyone else to my dark mood today. Around 5, I decide to call it quits for the day. Tomorrow evening is the rehearsal dinner. It promises to be a busy day. Luckily Matt will be back to run the desk, freeing Hannah up to handle all the wedding party details.
I scrub my hands over my face as I make my way to the back exit. The image of Hannah biting that full lower lip pops into my head for the millionth time today. It’s as though now that I’ve admitted to myself that I want her, she’s all I can think of. And they’re not innocent thoughts either. My mind is full of all the different ways I’d like to touch and taste her. To make her cry out in pleasure. I let out a groan of frustration as I push open the door. One of the dining room servers is on the porch. He gives me a weird look.
“Everything okay?”
I answer quickly. “Fine. Thanks.” He doesn’t look convinced, but I give him a smile and an awkward wave before nearly jogging to my truck. I just need to get out of here. I need to take a cold shower and find some way to get Hannah off my mind.