Page 47 of Bride Games

47

F rustrated since the hotel shuttle had just left, both Paige and Trent climbed into the back of a cab holding their carryon, two large coffees, and the mystery dessert. Paige knew the game had already begun, but thought she’d surely be in her room before the second quarter or at least before halftime. I have to ditch Trent. And fast.

The hotel was only five minutes away, but the check-in counter had nearly as many people as the customer service line at the airport. Paige groaned. “This is unbelievable. We should have come here instead of dawdling at the bar.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Paige? You used to love fun adventures. Remember Vegas?” Trent asked.

Eyes narrowing, Paige said, “Of course, I remember Vegas. That’s when I discovered you were ch—” She decided to drop the fact that he had left his phone on a plane, had about a hundred text messages from Anonymous, and during a drunken rage one night, she had figured out his password and hacked his computer. The gazillion emails and naked pictures of one woman still made her want to vomit. “No need to relive Vegas.” Paige grunted as she glanced at the still-too-long line at the register. “Maybe I should go stand in line. They might run out of rooms.”

Trent opened the lid of the dessert container. “Impossible. This hotel has fifteen stories. Do you actually think they’ll run out of rooms?” He swiveled the open container toward Paige. “Look at this. My mouth’s watering.”

Paige inhaled the chocolate aroma. “I think it’s chocolate lava cake. That smells heavenly. Did they send forks?”

“In my pocket.” Trent reached into his pocket and pulled out one fork sealed in plastic. He checked the other pocket and gave a half shrug. “The other fork must have fallen out. Mind sharing? We’ve swapped spit before.”

Practically the last thing on earth Paige wanted to do was share a plastic fork with her ex-fiancé, but the cake smelled incredible. Trent must have noticed her hesitancy. He handed the fork to her. “Ladies first.”

Paige’s eyes actually filled with tears, much to her dismay. That simple comment and gesture were about the nicest thing Trent had said or done in ages. She reached for the fork. “Thanks.” As she took a bite, the ooey fudge oozed out the side. “Oh, my God. This is orgas—” Paige quickly stopped that train of thought and handed the fork back to Trent. “It’s really good.”

Winking, Trent said, “I prefer your first description.” As he reached for the fork, their hands touched. For some weird, unexpected reason, tingles went through Paige. It’s the wine. I always get like this when I’ve had too much wine. She watched Trent take a large bite and hand the fork and cake back to her. Paige noticed a crumb on his lip, and before she realized what she was doing, she leaned across, and wiped it off with her thumb.

Trent reached for her wrist but not in a gruff way. In a needy I want you way. Paige admonished herself for feeling the same way, even if it was for half a fleeting second. Damn the wine. Damn Marie Fallon. Damn this stupid position Mr. Hales put me in. Damn the social media trolls. Shit.

Voice husky, Trent said, “I’ll check on our room.”

“Rooms,” Paige corrected.

“Right.” As Trent crossed the lobby, only three guests remained at the check-in desk. Paige threw the cake container away, kept the coffee, and placed her purse on top of her carry-on. She stepped across the marbled lobby and joined Trent at the counter. She edged her way past other customers, ignored their glares, and stood beside Trent. “I need my own room, please,” Paige said.

“Sorry, ma’am. We’re full tonight. Apparently, a lot of airplanes were grounded.” The hotel clerk kept tapping keys and furrowing his brow. After a few more clicks, he brightened. “You’re in luck. Someone just canceled online. We have one room available.”

“Only one room?” Paige croaked. “We need two.”

The hotel clerk nodded. “Only one.”

Trent gave a half shrug. “I’m good with one room.” He turned to Paige. “It’s not like we haven’t slept together. We were engaged.”

Jaw set, she repeated, “We need two rooms.”

“Sorry, ma’am.” The clerk eyed her with newfound interest after Trent’s comment.

Paige shifted her purse to the other side. “Is there another hotel close by?” She reached for her cellphone. “Just give me the name. I’ll make the reservation from here.”

“There’s one around the block. I’ll check.” The clerk picked up a telephone and called a number. After hearing, “You’re full too?” Paige groaned and leaned against the cold counter. “I guess we don’t have any choice. There’s a couch, right? He—or I—can sleep on the couch.”

“No, ma’am. We have couches in our suites, but this is a standard room. Only one queen bed.” He brightened. “But there’s a coffee pot and a charging station.” Smiling, he added, “You’ll have access to Wi-Fi. I just need a credit card.”

Trent already had his credit card out and pushed it across the counter. “Use my card. I’ll charge it to the station.”

“What station?” The clerk asked.

“A TV station.”

“You’re both on television?” The clerk eyed them. “You look like television anchors. I can tell. Beautiful people. Smart too. Well spoken.”

“Thanks.” Trent cut him off, clearly tired of the attention for once. Or just on a mission to get Paige into the hotel room, she wasn’t sure which. Horrified, she watched as he stuffed his card back inside his wallet. “Ready? It’s showtime.”

“It’s gametime,” she muttered. Paige wondered how she could get Trent to watch the game—her entire reason for this stupid trip. Trent hated sports, especially football, but she wanted—needed—to see Zach and Marie in action. She wasn’t sure how they could share a room, watch a game, and stay on each other’s side of the bed but she was determined to make it happen, even if she had to sleep on the floor. She wavered and steadied herself against a column. Why did I have so much wine?