Page 8 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
“It’s okay.” My smile made her gasp and drop her pen. I was flustering her—an effect I had on a lot of women—but this was the first time I’d ever enjoyed it. I didn’t want Maisy to be uneasy, but I really fucking liked that she found me attractive.
Because I found her incredible.
“Three weeks,” Maisy repeated, looking back to the book to avoid my face. “I’ve got a long-term-stay unit open for the month. It has a kitchenette so you can cook, plus it has its own washer and dryer. The price is five hundred a week plus tax. The standard rooms are ninety-nine per night so it would save you some money as long as you don’t mind that I only clean it every other day.”
Five hundred dollars was three times the amount I had planned to pay for a rented RV, but Maisy could have every last cent I had to my name. “That’s fine. I’ll take it.”
“Sweet,” she whispered to the counter. “I’ll just need to see an ID and your credit card.”
She finally looked up again, giving me the briefest glimpse of her smile, before she walked to a slotted shelf on the wall to grab some paperwork. When she came back, her gray-blue eyes locked with mine. I’d never been close enough to appreciate their unique color before, having only seen her from a distance.
I memorized the color so I could keep them for my dreams when she was gone.
We stared at each other for a moment too long, the air getting thicker as we breathed. Fuck me. She had all my nerve endings firing. My hands itched to reach out, to touch her smooth skin, but this counter was keeping me away.
I didn’t move. I just kept studying her eyes until she blinked and broke away. “I, uh, just need you to fill this out.” She set the paperwork and a pen on the counter and pushed them toward me.
I snapped out of her spell. “Sorry for staring. You just have beautiful eyes.” The words came flying out of my mouth before I could lock them down.
She reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, using the gesture to try and hide her wide smile, but I still saw it and it hit me right in the heart. Damn, this woman was going to wreck me. Five minutes with her and I wanted a lifetime. But since I’d never get it, I had to get out of this lobby. Fast. For my own sanity.
Reaching for my wallet, I dug out my driver’s license and credit card. “Here you go.” I set them on the counter purposefully, not wanting to risk my fingers brushing with hers. Then I grabbed the pen, focusing on the paperwork instead of Maisy. I scribbled down my name, phone number and vehicle description while she photocopied my license and credit card.
“Hunter Faraday,” she read my name from my ID as she brought it back from the copier.
“That’s right.” I studied her face, expecting a flash of recognition, but there was none. She just smiled and set the cards back on the counter.
Good. The less she knew about me, the better. If she didn’t recognize my name, it meant I had done a good job of staying under the radar the last time I’d been in Prescott.
Too bad I couldn’t say the same this time around.
“I’m, uh . . . Maisy. I own the Bitterroot, so just let me know if you need anything. If I’m not in the office, I leave my phone number on the door.”
“Okay.” I stuffed my cards back in my wallet and shoved it into my jeans.
“Here you go.” She handed me a key attached to a small tooled-leather strap. “You’re in room eight. It’s the last room along the long side of the building. First floor.”
“Thanks.” I took one last long breath of her sweet lilac scent, then nodded and left the room. When the lobby door closed behind me, I wasted no time dragging my suitcases from my truck and into my new room. Sitting down on the white down comforter, I dropped my elbows to my knees and let my head fall.
Way to stick to the plan, Faraday.
I guess I’d be staying at The Bitterroot Inn after all, living three hundred feet from the one temptation I stood no chance at resisting.
“What a clusterfuck,” I muttered just as my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and frowned at the name on the screen. “Hello.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
“You know where.”
“Hunter, is this really necessary?”
I scoffed. “You tell me. Is it?”
Silence.
“That’s what I thought. Listen, now isn’t a good time. I’ll talk to you later.” I didn’t wait for a response or a good-bye before hanging up.
Staying at Maisy’s motel wasn’t going to be easy, but if it kept her safe, I’d stay here forever.
