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“Damn it, Kayla. I was stupid but I always loved you—”
“Tell her, White.”
I swallow when I hear White growl, because I know that means, he’s going to give in.
“Prepare yourself, Hope—but if you love him, don’t give up. Men can be idiots, but they can be worth the pain,” Kayla warns me, taking over the phone. “I’m here if you need a shoulder,” she adds and then I hear her pass the phone back to White. I can hear them murmur something, White’s voice so sweet it makes me ache.
“I’m not sure that made me feel better,” I whisper.
“This won’t either,” White says and I try to prepare myself, but as White starts telling me who Aden is and his life before…
I’m pretty sure that there was no way I could have ever been prepared enough.
forty-five
hope
“Do you have a room available for the night?” The lady asks, as she walks toward the counter. My heart is beating a hundred miles a minute. That’s because this is not an unusual question tonight. It’s also because I do have a room available—exactly one room. Which means when I complete this transaction the Hard Acre Motel is officially SOLD OUT.
They’ve been coming in all day like this. I thought we were just getting lucky the first couple of times it happened. Then, after the fourth booking, I began to wonder… but now?
“We have one room left. It’s a king and all our rooms are non-smoking,” I tell her crossing my fingers she says yes.
“We’ll take it! I’m so glad we saw your billboard on the interstate. You know you’re the only motel or hotel listed for Clancy and Merner?”
“We are?” I ask, even though I know that. I checked into that before I moved here. Still, I’m kind of in shock from what she said just before that.
“You are. We were getting so tired and your sign was like a godsend.”
“Our sign?”
“Yeah, that huge billboard two exits back. We were in a panic. There’s a big antique sale this weekend in Merner and we stupidly didn’t check in advance for places to stay.”
“Well, I’m so glad you gave us a chance,” I tell her and then give her the price for our room. After I’ve booked her room, I hand her the key. “I really do hope you enjoy your stay. Check out time is noon.”
“Oh my goodness it’s a key! I love it! It’s so quaint.”
“We strive for a vintage feel here,” I tell her, not bothering to mention that those card sliders were hella-expensive.
“It’s amazing and the outside is so pretty! We travel through this area often. We’ll definitely be returning.”
“I’m so glad. You have a good night and if you need anything dial zero from the phone in your room,” I tell her, wondering if she will find the rotary dial phones quaint too.
“We will. Good night!”
I sit and look at my ledger. The ledger that now shows that every room in the motel is booked. I have no idea what sign she’s talking about. Is it possible she got our motel confused with something else? I have myself mostly convinced of that, after all, it can be the only explanation.
And then… the phone starts ringing.
People driving the interstate see our billboard and are trying to see if we have vacancies. After five calls, I’m almost crying. After three more calls asking for rooms for tomorrow, I do cry. When I flip on the neon sign that says NO in front of the vacancy out front, I cry a little harder.
“Babe I got Jack to bed, do you need me to give you a break?” Aden asks, coming into the main lobby.
I stand there and look at him. I don’t know why or how I know, but somehow I do.
“We’re booked solid,” I whisper. He stops. For a brief moment shock flashes across his face, and then those perfect lips of his, they are mostly hidden by his beard—which is sad, but the beard is sexy so that’s not sad at all—spread into a smile and his eyes sparkle.
“We are?” he asks.
“I’ve had to turn away customers,” I whisper again, and tears are still sliding from my eyes, but I ignore the wetness and concentrate on Aden.
“That’s good.”
“I even had to clean out your room and rent that one too.”
“That’s really, really good,” he grins.
“Half of the guests are booked for tomorrow night too,” I whisper—again.
“That’s really great.”
“I’ve had several more call in to book for tomorrow,” I whisper –yet again—but because I don’t think I can talk above a whisper right now.
“That’s amazing,” he says.
“A lady mentioned she saw our billboard,” I tell him, and yes, my voice is still whisper soft.
“She did?” he asks, and his face changes a little… he looks pleased, definitely pleased, but something else too. Something I can’t define, but it looks like…nervousness.
