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God bless the man for knowing how to distract her.
“Monty, babe, this is Eden. I told you she was even more beautiful in person!” Flor says.
Okay, and now I’m extra mortified that she was showing my selfies around. I don’t have many of them because honestly, I’m too busy at work to even remember to show my face on my deserted social media. But the ones I do have are usually taken by Flor, and they’re… awkward.
That’s just how I look next to her flawlessness.
“Um. It’s nice to meet you,” I say. I extend my hand, and my stomach twists in a not-nice way when he grips the very tips of my fingers and kisses my knuckles like I’m some debutante.
“I’m sure Flor’s told you all about me,” he says.
I pull away and fight the urge to wipe my hand on my jeans. “Not much. She barely knows you.”
Flor makes a disgruntled noise and smacks my arm with the back of her hand. “Don’t be mean. I was keeping the details to myself so you two can get to know each other at dinner.”
And great, now she’s putting me on the spot. I feel my cheeks heat up and my annoying-as-hell people-pleasing urge start to rise when he gives me an eager grin.
Stay strong, Eden. You’ve got this.
“This place isn’t what I expected,” he says with a sniff, definitely staring at my chest before he remembers to look up. I don’t have that much to see, but men like him never really care that much as long as the women they’re after are a sure thing. Sad for him—because as much as a pointless weekend fling does sound fun, I have standards. “But the food’s gotten rave reviews. I guess the chef here used to work at a five-diamond resort in Bali.”
Flor wrinkles her nose as she looks up at the weather-beaten lodge walls. I know she hates them, but oddly, I don’t. They have character and life in them—history, sort of, which gets me in all the right places. “Ew. Why did he comehere?”
“Why are you acting disgusted?” Sage asks, saying what I’m thinking. “You chose this place.”
She rolls her eyes and breaks free of his arm. “Whatever. Let’s get checked in. Is there someone to bring our bags?”
“You have to request it,” Monty says, and Flor makes another distressed noise as she walks through the front doors.
Sage lets out a small sigh and elbows me gently. “You know you can say no to this, right?”
I scoff. “And face her wrath?”
He pulls a face and shakes his head. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, but I also know she can be a lot. Tell her no. She loves you so much, Eden, and she’s trying to make you happy. Just be honest with her. You don’t have to go out with this dipshit.”
I feel a random and intense surge of affection for the man Flor married. Sage might come from the world of snobs and old money, but he’s so good for her. I want to hug him, but I don’t. I’ve never really been a touchy-feely person.
Sage seems to get that, even though he’s the kind of guy constantly throwing his arms around everyone, so he just elbows me again, then jerks his head toward the door, and we head inside. Flor’s already at the desk talking to a kid who can’t be more than twenty-one. He looks a little shell-shocked and torn between Flor’s kind smile and Monty’s glare.
Flor doesn’t even seem to notice. She’s just pulling out her credit card, and I can hear her complimenting the thin layer of glitter polish he has on his nails. Monty scoffs and rolls his eyes, but Flor either doesn’t hear him or is ignoring it.
The kid looks like he wants to relax but can’t under Monty’s gaze, so finally I crack and walk over, hitching my bag up high on my shoulder.
“Have you been up here long?” I ask, hoping to distract him so he’ll give the poor kid a break.
His glower turns back into that little smirk he was wearing outside, and he shrugs, shoving one hand into his pocket. “About an hour. Enough to tour the room. Apart from the issue with thesheets,” he says, raising his voice and making the kid flinch, “it’s not that bad.”
My brows fly up when I realize that’s the room issue Flor was talking about. “The sheets?”
“Yes. Their website offered an upgrade,” he says, raising his voice even more. “But they refused to honor it. They’re some basic cotton blend, which is ridiculous for how much I’m paying.”
In all honesty, it’s humiliating to stand here with him and listen to that, especially with people watching us. A few feet away, there’s a woman in business casual and a rough-and-ready man in plaid with mud-stained boots, a hat imprint on his hair.
They’re close enough to hear Monty, but they’re not looking at him, which tells me they’re eavesdropping.
“I’m sure the rooms are perfectly fine,” I tell him, hoping they don’t think I’m like this guy. “Including the sheets. I’m not picky.”
“That must be why Flor wanted to come here,” he says. “You’re easy to please.” He says it like it’s a compliment. “I can see why,” he adds, looking at me again. His gaze lingers on my waist, which is definitely not hourglass the way Flor’s is, and I wrap my arms around myself without thinking.
