Thirty-Two
Presley wasn’t good at goodbyes. Maybe that made her good at her job. She did everything she could to make a guest’s stay as delightful as possible. In return, she had several that returned to the hotel frequently. It was always satisfying to see them, knowing that of all the choices they had for lodging, they’d chosen La Chambre. Some of them maybe even because of her, because she’d enhanced their stay.
She never said “goodbye.” She said “see you soon,” “see you later,” “so long.” Rylee noticed it once and called her out on it, saying she belonged on a TV show. When Presley had shown confusion, she told her that on TV, characters never said goodbye when they hung up the phone. After that, Presley had watched all her favorite shows closely, and sure enough, no goodbyes. Technically, the conversation, the connection, never ended.
The day had been long and wonderful, spent helping Beckett with ideas and plans for his rental shop. He’d shown her quadracycles with the same excitement children had for Santa Claus. Everyone seemed to be riding high on yesterday’s news. She’d helped out with closing down the cabins they’d get to in the future, giving ideas on how to utilize the items that could be repurposed for other guest rooms.
She’d helped him and Jill choose weekly menu options for the next month from a list of options Mrs. Angelo’s daughter sent. Presley was able to give Jilly a break by “supervising” Ollie as she got an upstairs king suite ready for her grandparents to arrive.
Basically, the entire day had been about getting from one moment to the next without thinking about tomorrow. As the air cooled and she got up from the wide couch in the library—she was unabashedlyin love with this room—where she’d been rereading a favorite Nora Roberts book, she checked the time on her phone.
Emmett had stopped leaving voicemails but was now sending way-too-frequent texts. He’d texted her more in the last few days than he had in the last few months of their relationship.
Intending to go help Jill with whatever she might need before finding Beckett, she ran into him, literally, as she rounded the corner from the hallway.
His hands came to her shoulders, his laughter coming easily. “Not often a beautiful woman falls for me.”
She laughed at his corniness. Something happened yesterday when the good news unfolded—the invisible weight on his shoulders had lifted. He’d traded worry for mirth without even noticing. She could see it in his smile, his eyes, and the way he hummed, just a little, while he worked today.
“I think the accurate thing to say is it’s not often younotice,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. He had blinders on when it came to his own attributes, which, of course, made him more attractive.
Sweeping her hair back from her forehead, Beckett pressed a kiss to her left eyebrow. It was such a sweet and unintentional gesture, Presley’s body tensed with need.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if we skipped dinner with the guests tonight. I have plans. I can tell you if you’d prefer but I’d rather show you.”
She regarded him suspiciously. “Plans, huh? Naked plans?”
His laughter filled the hallway. “Definitely later. But no. That wasn’t the whole of it. Trust me?”
“Completely.” Another one of those ironies. She trusted a man she’d known less than two weeks more than one she’d been willing to merge her life with.
She thought she’d be cold with the almost-dusk chill permeating the air, but plastered to Beckett’s back, arms around his middle, bundled up in an undershirt, sweater, and jacket and with a helmet on, Presley was overheated. She felt every bump, the vibration of the motor, the safe and solid feel of Beckett. He’d taken the trail they’d walked in those first couple of days, but many trees back, he’d veered right, taking them up higher. The gentle smell of gasoline mixed with the freshness of the cool air, the scent of the trees.
The path narrowed some but nothing like the one they’d biked.Who are you? You’ve hiked, biked, and now ATV’d in the last week.
Beckett slowed the vehicle as he entered a clearing. When he pulled to a stop, her body felt like it was still moving. He smiled at her, helped her off the ATV. They both removed their helmets and hung them on the handlebars. He unhooked the backpack he’d attached to a rack behind the seat. It was handy because it made her feel like if anything was going to fall, it’d be the bag first.
“First time on an ATV?” His smile shone even in the waning light.
She didn’t want to think about how they were getting back. She trusted him.
“How’d you know?” She shrugged. She could do breezy.
Slinging the backpack over one shoulder, he took her hand with the other.
“Besides the look on your face when I told you to hop on, I’m pretty sure I’ll have imprints of your arms and hands on my waist.”
Nervous laughter bubbled. “You’re welcome.”
They walked over the uneven incline and beyond the receding tree branches to a spot that stopped her in her tracks. It felt like she could see the whole lake from here.
“It’s like an enormous bowl of ink,” she said quietly, her voice sounding louder than she’d spoken.
Beckett laughed. “It does look pretty dark from up here. Those lights there?” He pointed to the right. The lights he referred to were a barely there glow. “That’s the lodge.”
She turned, looked up at him. “That’s amazing. How did you find this place?” A thought hit her like a branch to the head. “Are there animals up here?”
Smoothing one hand down her hair, which had to be somewhat haywire, he shook his head. “They won’t bother us.”
