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Taeli
Iwake up before Graham, get up as quietly as I can, and make my way to the bathroom.
I look a mess.
Grabbing my bag from the vanity, I dig around for my toothbrush and cosmetics.
I pull my hair into a ponytail and start applying moisturizer. Once my face is done, I take the tweezers and glue to add eyelashes. I misalign the one on the right and have to tug it loose. A speck of glue gets into my eye, causing me to yelp.
I blink repeatedly and swear like a sailor as I try to wink away the burn.
“Why do you women do that?”
Graham’s sexy morning voice fills the room. I look up through my good eye to see him leaning against the doorframe. His hair is all over the place, and his dimples are dancing.
“Do what? Wear makeup?” I ask.
“No, glue those spider legs to your eyelids?”
I huff. “Because some of us can’t grow luscious, long lashes,” I inform him.
“Luscious?”
“Yeah, some are blessed, but the majority of us have to buy them.”
“What a waste of money,” he mutters.
“Excuse me?” I ask as I stare at him with one eye.
He leans in, places his hands on either side of me, and licks his lips.
“Let me tell you a secret, sweetheart. No man has ever looked at a woman and thought, Damn, she’s gorgeous, and I’d love to push her up against the wall and make her scream my name, if it wasn’t for those short eyelashes she has.”
Gooseflesh crawls down my arms as he starts to kiss my neck just below my ear.
Smartass.
“I have to go to work,” I moan.
“So do I,” he says against my pulse.
I stretch my neck to the side to give him better access to my throat.
“But I’m not my own boss. I have to be on time,” I grumble.
“You will be,” he says before picking me up and setting me on the vanity.
He steps between my legs, and I wrap them around his hips.
“I’m supposed to be there in twenty minutes,” I inform him.
He kisses my lips and then says, “Okay, so maybe you’ll be a few minutes late.”
Thank goodness this is a temporary job.
I give in. “Okay, but you’ll have to deal with my boss.”
“I’ve got you,” he says, and then he proceeds on making me more than a few minutes late.
It’s a busy day at the office. Holiday weeks in a tourist town like Balsam Ridge are already a flurry of activity. Visitors from all over the country make their way to the valley to spend the week enjoying the festivities.
The campground is at maximum capacity, and I send at least a dozen travelers to other sites. Every motel in town is showing no vacancies available, and the rentals with Rocky Pass are all spoken for.
By the time I get into my vehicle to head home, I’m exhausted.
My phone rings, and I answer it without looking as I back out of the parking lot.
“Hello.”
“Hi, sweetheart.”
It’s Damon.
Great.
