Page 17 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
Shut up, Maisy!
My mouth didn’t listen. The rambling apologies kept on coming.
“I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry. What can I do? Can I get you something? An ice pack? Ooh! I think I have a bag of peas in the freezer. I’ll go get them. You stay right there, I’ll be back in a jiffy.” I carefully sidestepped Hunter, ready to sprint to the loft for my peas, when he spoke.
“Maisy, stop,” he grunted. “Just give me a sec.”
“Okay.” My feet immediately stopped.
I stood over Hunter, nervously swaying back and forth, as he stayed in the fetal position on the ground. When Pickle lunged for a chance to lick Hunter’s face, I yanked back on his leash and held him close.
What a disaster! How was I ever going to recover from this? My second impression was worse than my first.
I desperately wanted to keep apologizing but I managed to seal my lips together. The wine buzz I’d had minutes ago was fading fast and the heat from my embarrassment had chased away the cold. So much for remodeling Coby’s room. So much for getting Hunter Faraday to like me. I expected to see his room key in the drop box when I woke up tomorrow.
Pushing up off the ground, Hunter slowly stood up and faced me.
“I’m sorry.” My hand came up to my mouth again, holding back another fit of word vomit.
“Don’t worry about it,” he panted. “I’ll live, but I think I’ll take those peas.”
I nodded and burst into action, scooping up Pickle and running across the parking lot, then leaping up the stairs to my loft. With the puppy back in his crate and a bag of frozen corn in my hand, I slammed the door behind me and rushed back toward Hunter. I rounded the corner of the lobby and jogged across the parking lot toward his open door, light from his room spilling out into the walkway.
I burst right into his room. Hunter was slouched in the leather club chair by the door. His head was tipped back and his eyes were closed.
“Here you go.” I was out of breath and the words came out too loud.
Hunter’s eyes opened and he held out a hand so I could drop the corn into his large palm. “Thanks.”
“It’s corn. Peas are Coby’s favorite and I never seem to buy enough. He hates corn but it should work for your . . . um, well, you know.”
Shit! I was rambling again. Like he cared about my son’s vegetable of choice.
Hunter pressed the frozen corn to his groin, sighing with relief.
And I just stood there, bouncing from one foot to the other as the reality of this nightmare sank in. I’d just kneed the man I’d been crushing on in the balls. Mortification wasn’t a strong enough word for how I felt right now. I didn’t know what else to do, so I apologized. Again.
“Like I said before, I’ll live.” He tipped his head back again and shut his eyes. “Is your kid okay by himself? I’ll be fine if you need to get back.”
“Oh, he’s spending the night at a friend’s house tonight.”
“Hmm.” His Adam’s apple bobbed gently as he swallowed.
I really wanted to run my tongue up and down Hunter’s throat.
Really? You just assaulted the man!
Clearly, I was still drunk because that was not an appropriate impulse at this moment. I shook my head, pushing all licking thoughts aside and remembering why I was in his hotel room.
“Can I get you anything else? I have Advil or Tylenol. If you need something specific, I could walk to the grocery store and—”
“Maisy.”
“Yeah?” I braced, ready for him to tell me to get the hell out of his room.
“Sit down.”
“Right.” His request surprised me and I immediately obeyed, sitting stiffly on the edge of his bed. We both stayed quiet—a personal miracle—and I did my best to relax. Once my heart rate finally moved out of the red zone, the nervous sweating began. My forehead was damp and a drop of sweat slid down my side.
