Page 23 of Erotic Temptations 1

I sank onto the bed, duffel still gripped in a death-hold. My heart was pounding like I’d run a marathon, when all I’d done was trudge through snow and meet an attractive guy with undeservedly nice hair. Even my fingers felt twitchy.

This was it. I had a roof over my head. A job. My own bed, even if it creaked when I sat on it. I wasn’t about to get sentimental, but it was a relief, like I’d been holding my breath for three weeks and someone had finally told me I could breathe. Not sure why, but the thought of seeing Gabe again made my face heat like a kettle left on the burner too long.

I unpacked the essentials. Hoodie, which I put on. Phone charger. My one pair of half-decent shoes. The rest could stay in the duffel for now.

The hum of nerves wouldn’t go away. I sat there, hands in my lap, staring at the wall, and made an executive decision. I was not going to be the housekeeper who hid in his room because he was terrified of new people. Nope. Not giving them that story for the Christmas party. Cameron Locker, nervous twink, had arrived.

* * * *

The hotel was already halfway to a Christmas fever dream. Everyone was prepping for the big party tomorrow—the Diamond Peak Christmas Gala, which sounded like somethingout of reality TV. People in the lobby strung lights around pillars, hooked ladders to the ceiling, and barked orders that would’ve terrified the old me. But maybe the new me would just…fake it till he made it.

I ducked out of my room, trying to look casual. If anyone noticed I had no clue where I was going, they were polite enough not to comment.

From across the lobby, I saw Gabe was still at the front desk, typing something on a laptop. He didn’t look up right away, so I had the luxury of staring. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest habit, but it was better than doom-scrolling Instagram. He looked like he belonged in a different, cooler, more expensive version of this job.

Taking a slow, deep breath, I moved closer. He looked up, watching me approach.

The heat told me I had alittle flush on my cheeks, so I ducked my head and focused on the fake marble countertop. “Hi. I, uh, didn’t get lost. Probably a record.”

He arched a dark brow. “Congratulations. Kitchen’s over there, if you want coffee.”

That was unfair. He had no way of knowing my tragic backstory with coffee, which involved getting fired from a barista gig for spilling a venti Americano into the manager’s lap. He shouldn’t have grabbed my ass. I stood by my actions.

“Coffee would save my life.”

It felt like I was still wearing Rudolph’s nose. The temperature outside was no joke.

He led the way. I tried not to stare at his shoulders, but my eyes refused to obey my brain. I had no business drooling over my boss, no matter how gorgeous he was. Where would I find another gig that also offered a roof over my head? By a complete miracle, I’d landed this one, and I didn’t need anything to jeopardize it, including me.

The kitchen wasn’t busy yet, but it looked like it could turn into a war zone at any moment. A couple of staffers in red shirts were slicing fruit and arguing about whether peppermint bark was an actual dessert. I thought it was candy but doubted they wanted my underqualified opinion.

I parked myself by the Keurig and tried not to look totally out of place.

Gabe poured black coffee for himself and offered me options. “This one’s peppermint. The other’s hazelnut. Unless you want decaf, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Hazelnut’s fine. Thanks.” I took the cup and pod and tried to look like I knew what I was doing. “So. Tomorrow’s party is for hotel guests, right?”

He nodded, then leaned his hip against the counter. “And local celebs. A few social media types. Place’ll be swamped.”

The word “swamped” made me break out in a cold sweat. Lots of people. Lots of noise.

Gabe seemed to read the panic on my face. “First day can be rough, but you’ll get the hang of it. You’re not the first rookie.”

That wasn’t comforting. Knowing you had a hotel job and actually seeing the enormity of it made me want to hide in my room until it was over. “You’re right. New job jitters.”

He looked at me like he knew I was downplaying it. I was. I needed this job desperately, despite my anxiety. I was just a fun ball of frantic nerves.

Tomorrow was going to be a disaster.

We stood in silence, sipping coffee. The staffers in the kitchen were prepping like Olympic athletes, and I was suddenly very aware that I probably had a marshmallow-shaped smudge of whipped cream on my jacket. Just as I was about to wipe at it, Gabe handed me a napkin.

“Cream,” he said, lips twitching.

“I might be a lost cause.” I mopped my spill.

He shrugged, and I felt his eyes on me. Watching me. “Nothing wrong with being new. Everyone has a first day in their past.”

That seemed optimistic. I liked it. Gabe didn’t talk much, but when he did, he made it count. I tried to steal a glance at him, noting those broad shoulders and the way his jaw flexed, but I looked away so fast when he turned his head, I nearly ran into a wall.