I start to shake my head, but movement out the front window snatches my attention. Across the road, I watch as Westley’s ute stops in front of Sweet Escape. Within seconds, he steps out of his car, the navy blue baseball cap I’ve seen him in a few timespulled low over his eyes. He’s wearing a white T-shirt that only serves to highlight how sun-kissed his skin is from all his early evening running.
He moves to the back tray, unlocking the utility boxes, and pulls something out. A toolbelt. He wraps it around his hips, fastening it in place. Has a toolbelt always looked so attractive?
“Earth to Maevyn?” Claire calls, then looks over her shoulder. “Oh, it’s Westley!” She perks up and jogs over to the front door.
“You know Westley?” I follow her, slightly hiding behind her back.
“Of course. He works with Leif, and he was the supervisor for the build here.”
“I thought Lee did this build.”
“Leif owns the company, but Westley was my go-to guy,” she says, then leans her head out the open door. “Hey, West!” she shouts before I have a chance to properly hide.
“Morning, Claire.” I hear the faint sound of him calling back. “Hi, Maevyn.”
“Ahh, how do you know West?” There’s nothing but delight in her question.
I peer over her shoulder. “He’s my neighbour.”
“No way! And you’re hiding from him, why?”
I stand up straight, my eyes turning dry as I remain unblinking, faced with the realisation that I have no fucking clue.
“Good question,” I mutter, and step around her, raising a hand and waving to the handsome guy across the street, loading up various tools in his belt. “Morning, Westley.”
He waves a hand back, and I can still see his smile through his thick beard. There we go, totally not awkward, saying hello to the guy I used as imagery to get off to. No one needs to know. No one suspects shit.
With a hoity smile to myself, I’m ready to make my way back over to the reception desk since our first clients should be here any minute, when I find Claire leaning against the doorframe.Arms crossed over her chest, one eyebrow arched, barely containing a knowing smile.
“May I help you?” I ask, spinning on my heel and crossing the room.
Claire follows me, coming to stand on the other side of the desk, and leans over the counter without saying a word. I’m sweating bullets with every passing second she silently assesses me.
“Did you sleep with him?” she nearly shouts.
My eyes bug out. “No!”
“You’d like to?”
Would I? I’m definitely attracted to the guy, more so than I have been to a guy in quite some time. Not sure what that’s about. He’s like a damn thief, stealing all my rational thoughts.
“No.” There’s less conviction in this disagreement, and Claire sees right through it.
She squints one eye and purses her lips as she leans back from the desk. “I’m watching you.”
“He’s good-looking, okay?” I throw my hands up.
Claire’s face remains like stone, and I feel the admission bubbling under the surface, the sins demanding to be purged.
“And… I might have used him as inspiration.” The last word comes out slow and meaningful. I can’t even look her in the eyes at first.
I brace myself as I look at her again. Claire’s nodding her head with a proud smile. “I approve.”
Nervous laughter pops out of me. “What?”
“Hell yeah, girl. There’s no shame in a woman’s needs.” She leans in close, speaking lower and bobs her eyebrows. “Wonder if the live action lives up to the fantasy.”
“You’re wondering about other men?” I tease.
