by Amy Vansant
“There you are,” she said.
He turned. “Oh, hey. Sorry. I was out here with Garrett. He just left.”
“Where were you earlier? I looked all over.”
“We went out to the docks.”
She sat beside him. “Everything okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah. We worked it out. I had to blow off some steam and grumble about everything for a while to get it out of my system.”
“You’re mad at Nicole?”
“No. Not really. I just don’t want to be the center of this drama they’re creating.”
“Does that mean we’re staying?”
He nodded. “Unless you don’t want to? Please say you don’t want to and make me leave kicking and screaming. Garrett and Nicole couldn’t blame me for that.”
She laughed. “Part of me would definitely love to go home, but the other half thinks this will be fun and...doesn’t want her to win. It’s petty. I know.”
He put his arm around her and kissed the side of her head. “She can’t win. Don’t give her another thought. Let her make herself miserable.”
She laid her head on his shoulder and watched the crackling fire.
Jack the waiter approached. “Hey lovebirds, we’re closing up the bar.”
Sebastian looked around the room. “Where did everyone go?”
“They went to bed. Big day tomorrow I hear.”
Sebastian grunted. “Can I get one for the road?” He looked at Emily. “You want one?”
She nodded. “Why don’t you join us, Jack?”
Jack put his hand on his chest as he wandered away. “Me? I couldn’t possibly.”
Five minutes later, Jack arrived with three bourbons.
“Bosses are gone. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have one with y’all.” He sat in an overstuffed chair, and taking a sip from his drink, looked back towards the bar.
“Hey Mary, what are you up to?” he said.
Emily and Sebastian turned to find a cleaning lady had materialized. She was an older, heavyset woman dressed in an ill-fitting maid’s uniform.
“I should be ashking you,” she said with the odd lisp often heard on the Eastern Shore.
“Join us,” said Emily.
Mary tossed the broom in her hand at the wall and waddled over to them.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
She flopped into a chair. “I’m not much of a drinker. I’m more...” She pantomimed smoking a joint and Emily and Sebastian laughed, surprised to see an older lady so brazen about her marijuana habit.
“That stuff you had last time was amazing,” said Jack.
Mary and Jack grew visibly excited as they discussed what a nice evening it was for a smoke, but Mary insisted again and again she didn’t have any.
“Do you smoke?” asked Jack.
Emily and Sebastian looked at each other and shook their heads. They hadn’t known each other long enough to know the other’s answer and both seemed relieved to find they were on the same page.
Mary perked. “You don’t?”
“No,” they chimed in unison.
Mary looked at Jack. “Then maybe I have a little.”
Emily giggled. Mary hadn’t wanted to share.
Jack grinned. “Oh yeah? Let me finish my drink.”
They sat for another twenty minutes drinking their bourbons as Jack regaled them with stories about the strangest people he’d waited on at the Inn, including a man who’d insisted on wearing a parrot on his shoulder during his meal. The strange part was that the parrot had an eyepatch.
Ending a story with an exaggerated sigh, Jack repeated to Mary what a nice night it would be for a smoke.
Mary scowled. “Fine. I do have schome, but we can’t schmoke here.”
Jack pressed his lips into a tight line and glanced around, as if a secret smoke spot would appear.
“We have a porch...” said Emily before she could stop herself. She’d recalled seeing a patio through the sliding glass doors of their room.
Mary perked. “We could go back to yer room?”
Whoops. Did I just say that?
She looked at Sebastian, who shrugged. “Sure.”
“Ooh. I’ll go get it,” said Mary, toddling off to retrieve her paraphernalia and moving much faster than Emily imagined she could.
“Let me get rid of the evidence,” said Jack, gathering the glasses. “Unless you’d just like me to bring the bottle to the room? I don’t want you to feel left out.”
Sebastian nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
Jack moved to the bar to tidy up, shut things down and grabbed two large glasses of ice and a bottle of Knob Creek bourbon.
Emily sidled up to Sebastian and whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invite them. It just came out of my mouth because I didn’t want them to get in trouble.”
Sebastian smiled. “I think this is hilarious. It’s a story.”
“True. How often do you end up with the waiter and cleaning lady of a fancy resort partying in your room?”
“See? Exactly. Though, for the record, I am exhausted. We’ll let them do their thing on the patio and then we’ll kick them out.”
She nodded.
When Mary reappeared clutching an oversized purse to her bosom, they stood and led Jack and Mary to their room.
Sebastian poured himself and Emily another drink before they moved to the porch to watch Mary stuff weed into what looked like a wooden kazoo.
Emily marveled at where life had taken her in a short period of time.
I’m on the porch of a five-star hotel with a hysterical waiter and a sweet old weed-smoking Eastern Shore maid.
“This is surreal,” she said aloud.
Already sharing a smoke with Mary, Jack burst into giggles.
“This is s’real,” he echoed.
Mary regaled them with a story about her daughter’s pregnancy, the girl’s dirt-bag boyfriend, and her own various ailments. Emily had never heard anyone tell sad stories while giggling before.
At some point Sebastian excused himself. Emily assumed he’d left for the bathroom, but peering through the sliding doors five minutes later, spotted him lying face down on the bed.
Mary noticed him as well.
“You better watch it, hon. I’m gonna gew in there and have my way with that man of yoursh,” she said, cackling.
“You’ll have to beat me to him,” said Jack and the two of them collapsed into hysterics.
Emily decided it might be time to wrap things up.
“I should probably go to bed, too,” she said, offering an exaggerated yawn to prove her point.
“I’m afraid neither one of us is interested in you,” said Mary, and the giggles began anew.
Emily chuckled and tried again. “We have a big day tomorrow.”
Jack nodded and patted Mary on the shoulder. “We should let you two get your sleep. Come on, Mar.”
Both grumbling and giggling, Mary packed her stash and the two staffers stumbled back into the room, still whispering to each other about how adorable Sebastian looked.
“This was fun. Thanks for everything,” said Emily, holding open the door.
Jack grabbed the bottle of bourbon and he and Mary scampered down the hall, still cackling.
Emily closed the door and leaned against it.
Whew. So...that was different.
She’d have to remember to request the “Party with the Staff Package” should they ever visit again.
Chapter Seven
Emily cracked open an eye. She felt the upper lid peel away from the lower. She didn’t remember being so aware of that feeling before.
The digital clock on her bedside table glowed five o’clock in the morning.
That’s not my clock.
Wait. Where am I?
She sat up.
Ah. Hotel room.
The bed moved and she turned to find Sebastian rolling to face her. He peered at her through his own sticky eyes and groaned.
&nb
sp; “Oh boy. I may have over done it a little last night. What happened?”
“You had a pity party with your brother and then we invited the waiter and the housecleaning lady back to our room to smoke pot.”
He frowned. “I smoked pot?”
“No. We didn’t, they did. Turns out we’re not pot smokers. There’s another thing we have in common.”
“Put it on the list. So they were in our room...”
“Yep. We provided safe haven.”
He put a hand on his head. “It’s all coming back to me. Including the reason I was drinking in the first place.”
“Things did take a turn. The world might be plotting against us.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t worry. You should just lie back and be happy you didn’t wake up in the cleaning lady’s basement.”
He sat up. “What?”
“You fell asleep and both Mary and Jack joked they were going to have their way with you. I saved you. I kicked them out.”
“Thank goodness you were here.”
She nodded. “I’m not saying you owe me. But you owe me.”
“Fair enough. Any idea what we’re doing today?”
“We’re supposed to meet in the ballroom at six.”
He groaned again. “This is going to be the worst week of my life.”
Catching a sour smell, Emily wrinkled her nose. Sebastian noticed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. Something kinda stinks.”
He sat up, more alert. “Is it me?”
She sniffed his face. “I don’t know. The whole room kind of stinks.” While she assumed the stench was a remnant of the previous night’s guests and their stinky habit, she noticed the implication that he might smell bothered Sebastian.
She decided to have some fun. She sniffed him again.
“It might be you.”
He squinted one eye. “I don’t stink.”
“I’m pretty sure you do.”
He smelled his arm. “I don’t stink.”
“I don’t know. The dog just walked by wearing a little gas mask. It was sad and a little scary.”
“Your dog isn’t here.”
“Not now. He left. It stinks too much.”
“You’re hilarious. I don’t stink.”
“I’m not saying you do, but the plant in the corner just died.”
He laughed and grabbed her, tickling her into submission. “I don’t stink, admit it.”
She squealed. “You smell like a zombie putrefying from the inside. Has anyone sketchy bitten you lately?”
The tickling intensified as she struggled to escape his grasp. She wasn’t sure he could understand her, she was laughing so hard.
He pinned her down. “Tell me I don’t stink.”
She took a moment to catch her breath. “Hey, what did the gold miner say when he found the gold?”
He stared at her without answering until she plowed ahead with her punchline.
“U REEK AH.”
The tickling began again.
“No, no, I can’t take it anymore...”
She poked him in his impossibly hard stomach, attempting to tickle him back. The man didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body, and she suspected it somehow made him impervious to tickling. It was like tickling a rock.
He released her and rolled on his back, panting. “I know what the smell is. This week is killing me. I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying. Judging from the smell you’re already dead.”
He lifted his head to eyeball her. “I know you don’t want more of this.”
“No, no. I’m good.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She grinned at the ceiling. She couldn’t let it go. One more.
“Just try and stay downwind from everyone today.”
“Alright, here it comes.” He rolled on top of her, straddling her hips and held down her arms by her wrists. His face hovered above her own. “You’d better cut it out or I’ll sit here and breathe on you all day.”
“We’re supposed to meet everyone at the ballroom at six. We’re going to be late.”
“You think a zombie cares about time?”
He pretended to chew on her neck and she squirmed again, shrieking. His munching slowly morphed into kissing, and she felt her chest and face flush.
“You’re a pretty randy zombie,” she said.
“You have no idea.”
She closed her eyes, succumbing to the pleasure awash in her body.
For a moment.
Someone banged on their door and Emily’s eyes sprang open.
“Wake up. Open up.” Garrett’s voice boomed from the hall.
You have got to be kidding me.
Sebastian collapsed on her. “I’m going to kill him.”
She chuckled. “Sebastian, I need to talk to you about your brother and his pathological need to keep us from being alone.”
He lifted himself to stare down at her. “I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head. “I’m kidding. It isn’t just him. I think the universe is conspiring to keep us apart.”
He rolled from her and opened the door.
“What do you want?”
Garrett walked in and Emily pulled the sheets around her neck. She wore a t-shirt but she didn’t want to be all nippley in front of him.
“I need to talk to you before breakfast,” said Garrett, his gaze drifting to Emily. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said.
“What’s up?” asked Sebastian.
“I started thinking about Greta being here and it hit me she and her stupid aunt might be doing this on purpose—to cause drama for the show.”
Sebastian widened his eyes. “That just occurred to you?”
Garrett nodded.
“I think that goes without saying.”
“Oh. Well I thought I should warn you. She’ll be after you, if anyone.”
“Is this your way of hinting you know something? Like what she might have planned?” asked Emily.
Garrett shook his head. “No. Even if Nicky knew something she wouldn’t tell me. She knows I can’t keep my mouth shut around Bash.”
Sebastian grimaced. “Lotta good it does us having a man on the inside.”
Garrett clapped him on the shoulder and looked at his watch. “Go get ready. You’re going to be late.”
Garrett left. Emily slipped out of bed and walked to Sebastian.
“You want the shower first?” he asked.
She batted her eyelashes at him. “It’s pretty late. Maybe we should take showers at the same time.”
His eyes opened wide. “You’re a genius.”
Chapter Eight
Sebastian unwrapped a soap as Emily removed her oversized sleeping tee and stepped into the cavernous open shower. He allowed his boxers to slip from his narrow hips and followed her inside.
“This might be a good time to mention I’m a grower, not a shower,” he said, rubbing the soap between his palms to work up a lather.
She glanced down. “Oh, yep, I can see that.”
“Hey—”
She giggled.
“Turn around, I’ll do your back.”
“Should I turn my back on it before I know what I’m up against?”
“You’ll know, because you’ll be up against it. Even all the way on the other side of the shower you’ll know. In fact, you might have to move into the other room...”
Giggle-snorting she turned her back to him, shifting to the right so the water glanced off her left shoulder and didn’t hit her in the face. Drowning in the shower was even less sexy than giggle-snorts.
Sebastian placed a hand on each of her shoulders, massaging her shoulder blades with his thumbs before working the soap around her back in slow, sudsy arcs. He kissed her neck and she tilted her head to offer him access.
His hands slipped around her waist and found her breasts.
“You don’t want these dirty,” he
whispered.
“No. No, that would be terrible. Thank god you’re here.”
She turned and he leaned down, his mouth finding hers. As they kissed, he switched positions with her so the water struck his back, his height easily blocking her from the stream. Feeling weak-kneed, she leaned her back against the wall as his hand slid down her side to her hip, cupping her bottom before sliding to the inside of her thigh.
Emily moaned.
Yes, please yes—
Sebastian screamed.
It wasn’t a passionate groan or an over-excited yelp, but more of a high-pitched yip that reminded her of the squeals Duppy made when she accidentally stepped on his paw. As he howled, Sebastian leapt forward, pinning her against the wall.
She felt her feet slip beneath her.
This is going to hurt.
She grappled with his wet body, searching for purchase as her rump hurtled toward the ground. She spotted the one possible handle jutting from his body but even in her distress knew grabbing that wouldn’t do anyone any good.
Oh my. He is a grower.
Odd, the thoughts that fly through a mind when the end is approaching.
Just as she’d resigned herself to the enormous bruise about to grace her butt, her skull fracture, and the years of therapy learning to speak again, she felt Sebastian’s hands grab her arms and slow her fall. He eased her to the floor of the shower, but the tricky maneuver sacrificed his ability to stop his own descent as his feet whipped from beneath him. He slipped forward, his face striking the soap notch in the wall as tiny bottles of shampoo, body wash and conditioner tumbled from the shelf and pelted Emily’s forehead.
With her safely supine, he collapsed on top of her as his elbow struck the lower, tiled lip of the open shower.
He howled in pain.
It was then Emily realized what caused Sebastian to jerk forward so suddenly in the first place. The water was freezing. It struck Sebastian’s back and spritzed on her face in icy droplets.
The thrill of their plunge behind them, Sebastian planted a hand on either side of her head and lifted himself to his knees, stretching back for the knob that controlled the arctic waterfall. As he moved, he ceased to work as a shield and it was Emily’s turn to yip. She writhed to escape the path of the freezing water.
A second later, the water stopped and they stared at each other, panting and naked. There was no doubt their moment had passed. Any evidence of arousal from their previous shower play had disappeared entirely.