Page 15

Well not exactly back to bed. I did some weird dance between my bed and the door, debating heavily between going back to sleep and creeping back down the stairs. Thankfully, the logical side of my brain took over and I ended up in bed with my Kindle. However, after reading the same page over three times, I Google searched the man taking up real estate in my mind.

“So… what’s he look like?”

“He looks like the kind of guy that would eat you out and then say‘Thank you’after.”

“Jesus,” a deep voice growls from behind the camera before Miles drops into the frame. He kisses Camila sweetly on the top of her head. “Taylor.”

“Hey, big guy.”

“This is what you girls talk about when I’m not here?” he asks.

I shrug my shoulders but Camila at least has the decency to blush a little. “To be fair, I was asking for more of a physical description,” she says.

“Mhmm.” He kisses the side of her face once more before exiting the screen and she turns her focus back to me.

“Oh my god, Mila. He’s got this gorgeous golden tan, a thick head of dark hair, and these muscles.” I bring my hand up to my shoulder trying to imagine them again. “He’s got a close-cropped beard, not a big Viking-style kind, but the kind that could still do some damage to your inner thighs, you know?” Camila covers her face with a giggle and I rest a little easier hearing her laugh. “Anyway, he basically looks like a superhero but with a broken arm.” Her head tilts to the side and her lips purse together. “Yeah, I don’t really know either. He said it was a rugby accident, but other than that, he didn’t seem to want to talk about it much.”

“Interesting.” She bobs her head up and down. “So, what’s the plan?”

I drag myself out of bed, rip open the curtains, and my jaw drops.Unbelievable.I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than the rolling hills outside my window. Rich, lush, greenery everywhere. The blue sky breaks through some low dark clouds and its effect on me takes my breath away. My room sits tucked into the corner at the end of the hall. All mywindows face the front, giving me an unobstructed view of a grand weeping willow tree, littered with wildflowers beneath it. Even the dirt road my cab driver couldn’t drive down is somehow wonderful. At the bottom of the road sits a perfect little cottage with a front porch so sweet that I could live on it. A rush of calm passes over me. I really feel like I’m the main character in my own movie now.

“The plan is: I need to set an alarm and stop sleeping the days away,” I say with a note of finality.

“Wonderful,” she deadpans. “But I meant about your vacation fling.”

My head snaps back towards the screen. “My what?”

“Your Front Desk Hottie, Mr. Injured No Talker, The Thankful Pussy Eater.” A laugh burst from me but, she couldn’t look more serious if she tried.

“Well, unfortunately, he works when I should be sleeping, so I doubt I’ll see much of him. Who knows, maybe if I get really bored I’ll start sleepwalking.”

“Oh, the things we do just to flirt a little.”

“I know that’s right.”

“Alright, well keep me updated. Flaco is begging at the door so I better go take him out.”

“Give that baby some wet besos for me.”

“Will do.” We both blow a kiss at the screen before I hang up, toss my phone onto the bed, and rush forward to take in the view from my window again.

After a quick shower,I decide to make the most of what is left of the day. Plus, I really don’t want to miss dinner again. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, with my handstill on the railing, I run smack dab into someone. I stumble back before I’m caught by someone’s hands, and I look up to find it’s not justanysomeone, but a familiar someone.

“I’m sorry,” I say, looking down to where the man has dropped a crate.

“Nope, that was on me. Are you alright?”

“I’m good. Thank you.”

“Are you Taylor Nova, by chance?”

I tilt my head and open my mouth to respond.

“Knox told me you had checked in, we just haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet.” And the familiarity makes more sense now. The same olive skin and dark hair. He’s handsome and rugged like Knox, his frame a bit more lean—still fit—but nothing compared to the sheer size of his brother.

“You must be the brother.” I reach my hand out to shake his. He looks at my hand before shaking it.

“Ryder. And I might not be a professional athlete, but I at least have better manners than him.”