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This is only now hitting me.Jesus, am I going to be one of those mothers who forgets her kids at thesupermarket?
He chuckles while stepping into the room, and I tense at the sound of the door clicking shut. It’s official. We’re slumber-partying itup.
“I didn’t forget about my daughter, if that’s what you’re thinking. She’s spending the week at summer camp,” heanswers.
“Camp? Like onThe Parent Trap? That’s a realthing?”
“It looked real when I dropped her off.” He tosses the key on thedesk.
What hotel still uses actual keys thesedays?
“Which side of the bed do you want?” heasks.
“It doesn’tmatter.”
He points his chin at where I’m sitting. “I’ll take that side. It’s closer to the door, and you’ll be closer to thebathroom.”
He opens up the desk drawer, shuffles a few papers around, and shuts it. His next destination is the nightstand. He does the same thing and drags out a piece of paper ripped on bothsides.
He blows out a breath. “Room service menu istempting.”
My stomach growls at the mention of food. I’m eating for three, and my appetite hasn’t done anything to make me doubtit.
“I’m apologizing in advance for not feeding you quality tacos, but you have some superior choiceshere.”
I bet. “And what would thosebe?”
He starts to read them off while fighting to keep a straight face. “Ramennoodles—”
“There’s no way it says that,” Iinterrupt.
“I’m not shitting you.” He holds out the wrinkled piece of paper for me to read. Sure enough, ramen noodles is on there. “The other world-class options include grilled cheese, corn dogs, tomato soup, and sloppy joes.” He frowns. “I’m not a picky person, but none of these sound exactlyappetizing.”
I agree. “So many options, such a small stomach.” That’s notexactlytrue.
The bed descends when he sits next to me. “Again, I’m sorry aboutthis.”
“Don’t be. This will be a good story to tell our kids oneday.”
He smacks the paper. “So, what’ll itbe?”
“A corn dog might be my safestoption.”
“I owe you plenty of taco nights after this,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Fucking corndogs.”
“Hey now, I have nothing against corndogs.”
He doesn’t need to feel guilty about this. Shit happens that’s out of your control sometimes. It’s not like he planned to get a flat in the middle ofnowhere.
He hands me the paper. “Anything else youwant?”
I skim my finger down the page. “Might as well add some French fries while you’re atit.”
“Got it.” He gets up from the bed and picks up the phone connected to the wall with a cord. “Room service, please.” He orders my food and throws in ramen noodles forhimself.
My stomach grumbles again, and I throw a pillow to get his attention, smacking him in the head. “I’ll take some of those,too!”
He nods, rubbing his head. “Make that two ramen noodles.” He hangs up. “Dinner is ordered. Get comfortable. I’ll grab some drinks from the vending machine I spotted on our wayin.”
