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With no mom and a fucked-up dad, they didn’t have traditions that glued their family together at the seams. No warm memories or holidays that reunited them every season. There was no dependable connection, and maybe it was up to them to create one.
Linked by only their DNA and mutual trauma, he wondered if that was enough. What if the common ground of bad experiences stirred up too many unwanted ghosts of their past? What if the memories never went away, and building a relationship kept them alive?
Disturbed by the possibility, he stood and frantically started tidying his belongings, stuffing his laptop back inside the case and crumpling the scratch paper he used to jot a few notes. Into the trash it went, no trace he was ever there.
Now what?
His body pulsed with a nervous energy he needed to expel, so he threw on a pair of sweats and laced up his sneakers. There had to be a fitness room somewhere in this place.
The hotel was small, only five floors with minimal facilities, but the construction was new and the design achieved a decent balance of small town, historic charm without crossing the line into gothic revival gaudy.
He found the fitness center on the first floor, tucked in the back behind the stairwell. Just a few treadmills, some free weights, two bikes, and a row machine, but it was enough for Harrison to get in a decent workout and blow off some steam.
A damp stain darkened the material of his shirt at his chest and between his shoulder blades by the time he finished. When he left the gym, he got a bit turned around looking for the elevator—or so he told himself—as he wandered into the main lobby.
Pretending to admire the moldings and tour the vestibule, he drifted toward the corridor that likely housed the boardrooms and offices. A soft female voice caught his ear and the side of his mouth kicked up. He’d recognize her voice anywhere.
He spotted a vending machine and checked the selection, listening to the muffled conversation drifting from the door marked MANAGER.
Sliding a buck into the machine, he pressed a button and a bottle of water dropped from the display. He sipped and patiently waited for the conversation to end.
“I’ll have a proposal for you by the end of next week. Once you and your fiancé have had a chance to look over the options, we can sit down with our banquet manager and iron out the details.”
The door was cracked open, and if he leaned into the wall just so, he could see her working behind a large computer monitor. She clicked a few keys, the soft tick of her finger nails reminding him of all the times she scratched his shoulders and back in a fit of passion. She hadn’t noticed him and appeared at ease, unguarded, and natural.
“Great. I look forward to it. Talk to you soon.” She hung up the phone and made a note on the large calendar covering her desk.
Her chair pivoted and she stilled, spotting him. He lingered by the wall, caught and unapologetic that he’d been spying. He smirked and she blushed, laughing nervously.
“I didn’t know I had an audience.”
“I didn’t want to disturb your call.” He pushed off the wall and entered her office.
Her diploma filled a frame on the wall. Hospitality Management. He grinned, finding her choice fitting.
He faced her. “How’s your morning going?”
Her gaze dropped to his chest where the damp cotton of his shirt clung to his pecs. “Fitness room?”
“I needed to blow off some steam.” He would have preferred to blow it off with her, but that option wasn’t on the table at the moment.
“Looks like you succeeded. You’re all…” Her stare stroked over his shoulders and arms. “Steamy.”
Her fingers pulled softly at the thin pearl necklace around her throat, drawing his gaze to the delicate buttons of her silk blouse. If she opened her blazer, he bet the material was completely transparent.
Slugging down the rest of his water, he chucked the empty bottle in the waste basket by the door. “Lunch?”
She lifted the floral bag beside her computer. “I packed.”
“Cute.”
“Just trying to be a fiscally responsible adult,” she joked.
“Sometimes being responsible is overrated.” When he took a step closer to her desk, she drew in a long breath, drawing his attention down to her chest. “We can still eat together.”
He’d like to feed her whatever was in that little sack and he could feast on the sweet nectar between her—
“Mariella, did you happen to—Oh.”
Harrison glared at the man who so rudely interrupted them by barging into her office and instantly recognized him as the guy from the restaurant.
“Pardon me. I didn’t realize you were with someone.”
Yeah, me, Harrison almost growled, glaring at the intruder.
Mariella waved off the man’s apology. “Mauricio, this is Harrison Montgomery. He’s an old friend who used to live in Jasper Falls. Harrison, this is Mauricio Hernandez, our banquet manager.”
