Page 2 of Inn To You

Her head tilted like she hadn’t a clue what I was talking about.

I’d stuck out a hand and introduced myself while offering her my best smile. The one that typically calmed ornery personalities and didn’t do too bad at making ladies drop their undies.

She didn’t offer a hand in return. Instead, she stared at me with wide blue eyes the color of that damn lake and a rosy, lush mouth agape with a smudge of peanut butter on the corner. When my eyes landed there, her tongue swiped it clean, and instantly, I was hard.

“I’m here to see Tessa Brogan.”

She’d blinked. Blinked again. She brushed her hands together and slowly stood from the stool she’d been sitting on. Then she laid into me with a string of I told him we didn’t need anyone and Why can’t he just let me do this for myself? and I can’t believe this bullshit.

She didn’t ask me any questions.

Regardless, I handed her a résumé before admitting out loud my decision to pursue the manager position might have been a huge mistake. I needed this job, and from the looks of the lobby, she needed me.

One glance at the paper before her, and she slid the trash bin forward with her foot before slipping the résumé into the garbage.

“Filing system.” She smirked. Then her shoulders fell. “Guess it doesn’t matter what I want. The position includes a room. The salary isn’t anywhere near what you might have made before. Take it or leave it.”

I took it, minus the room, and she has made me regret every second so far.

Present conundrum included.

At first, we’d stood face-to-face, breaths blending, bodies plastered together in this tight space.

Then she sat with a hard thump on the closed toilet seat.

The position wasn’t any better as her eyes were level with my junk, and my body was not under control with her proximity.

She stood again and forced us to rotate, so now I am seated on the closed toilet seat, and her sweet spot is at my eye level. My legs are bent, knees practically touching the wall opposite where I sit, and Tessa is standing between my spread thighs.

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter.

“I couldn’t agree more,” she mumbles, crossing her arms. “I don’t want you here.”

“Well, perhaps you should have tightened the doorknobs.” Along with a mighty list of other things needing repair at this place.

“No, I mean, you, actually. I don’t want you here in my inn.” The words are said in utter frustration, and in some manner, I agree with her.

I don’t want to be here either. Not in a million years could I have anticipated what had happened last summer. Never had I been more shocked or disappointed or…hurt. What the Magellen owners did to me was a blow to the ego, but I’d never admit that to anyone.

However, Tessa’s admission that she doesn’t want me here surprisingly stings a little. Like a tiny pinprick pinch but still enough like a papercut caught underwater that makes you hiss.

“You need help.” Shaking my head, I exhale. She needs me. And a minute piece of me knows I need her…er, this job. While I have monetary savings, I’m too young to retire at forty-five. I’m too spry to sit still. An inn wasn’t exactly what I had in mind after the Magellen, but lost men can’t be choosers. That isn’t the saying, but I’m not a beggar. I am, however, a bit adrift.

Tessa huffs, and crossed her arms, forcing those perfect tits to perch higher. My hands fist on my thighs, fingers squeezing to prevent me from reaching out for her hips. I’d tug her close, breath against that seam between her thighs, and nuzzle my nose there. I bet she smells like honey and . . .

What the hell am I thinking?

“Look.” I spin as best as I can on the porcelain throne. “Is there a screwdriver in here? Something to help us pop this back into place.” With the doorknob in my hand, the post attached to the exterior knob fell outward into the hall. We should be banging on the door, only we haven’t heard a single voice in eons. This portion of the inn isn’t occupied.

Plus, we don’t need patrons to presume there is a problem.

Tessa doesn’t move as I twist to my right, hoping to find something in the mess of supplies that should be stored elsewhere than this facility. It’s not only a sanitation issue. It’s just ridiculous.

When I shift back to Tessa, glancing up at her, her lids are lowered, her arms still crossed. A single tear slips down her nose.

Shit.

“Hey,” I murmur, shoulders falling.