Page 42 of Quarter Miles (Runaway 3)

“Where are we going?” Cash asked, again dragging me back to reality.

I picked up Gemma’s sticky note that I’d set on the dash earlier, rereading the hotel’s name. “The Gallaway.”

He dug his phone from his pocket and entered the hotel’s name into the GPS.

I followed its directions through Heron Beach until a grand hotel, one that could compete with even the Greers’ establishment, filled the

view. “Wow.”

Four stories of taupe siding trimmed in white. Gleaming windows that offered guests a magnificent view of the ocean roaring in the distance. The Gallaway sat on a rocky cliff—twenty feet of jagged, charcoal rock that dropped to flawless, golden sand.

The hotel’s parking loop was tall and wide enough to accommodate a tour bus and two stretch limos with room in between. I pulled the Cadillac to the curb and before I could touch the handle to open the door, a valet was at my side.

“Welcome to The Gallaway.”

“Thank you.” I stepped out, smiling as I took in the entrance.

The front doors were open and the floor’s stones were made of the palest gray. Any accent was done in white or gold to keep the ambience bright and airy.

Everything in Montana was decorated with dark tones and earthy pieces. I’d finally gotten so sick of the wood that when Carol had given me the thumbs-up to make some enhancements, I’d added light touches wherever possible. From upholstered dining room chairs to freshly painted walls to quilts and pillowcases. Any surface where I’d been able to swap a shade of brown or maroon for something cream or white, I hadn’t hesitated.

Cash met the bellhop at the trunk. The poor kid tried to retrieve our sparse luggage, but Cash shot him a look of dismissal. He carried the bags. Got it.

I rolled my eyes and dug for Carol’s quarter I’d tossed aside earlier. I found it and set it in the metal ashtray, then hooked my purse over a shoulder and handed the keys to the valet. My eyes traced over every detail from the overflowing planters that bracketed the entrance to the gold G embedded in the stone tile beneath the entrance’s threshold.

If the entrance was this nice, I couldn’t wait to see the guest rooms. I’d be taking mental notes during our stay of things we could incorporate at the lodge.

Cash glanced over his shoulder to where the valet was easing the Cadillac through the loop. “I hate valet. Always screwing something up with your vehicle. Don’t be surprised if we get it back with a scratch.”

“He’s not going to scratch the car.”

We didn’t have valet at the resort because we didn’t cater to mass numbers of guests. At most, we had ten to fifteen cars in the parking lot. Most guests flew into Missoula and our shuttle service brought them to the property. We offered an experience, not a luxurious hotel that turned guests over by the hundreds.

The lobby was as stunning as the entrance, with gleaming marble floors and a chandelier that hung low, its crystal facets fracturing the light everywhere into tiny rainbows.

I spun in a slow circle, taking it all in before Cash nudged me toward the front desk.

The blonde behind the counter greeted us with a wide smile. “Welcome to The Gallaway.”

“Thank you.”

“Name?” she asked, fingers poised above her keyboard.

I scrunched up my nose. “We don’t have a reservation. Do you have any rooms available by chance?”

“Oooh.” The woman cringed. “Um . . . let me see what I can find. We’re at the beginning of peak season so I’m not sure if we have any openings.”

Why hadn’t I called ahead? Oh, that’s right. Because this trip had been a whirlwind and the situation with Cash had occupied my every waking thought. I crossed my fingers, hoping as the receptionist’s nails clicked on keys that she’d find us a room. I really didn’t want to find another place to stay but the chance of a vacancy was slim if the activity in the lobby was any indication of occupancy.

People streamed in and out from what looked like a long deck on the back of the hotel that overlooked the ocean. Some carried coffee cups from the espresso bar located past a set of french doors. Others milled around in the gift shop.

“Ah, you’re in luck.” My heart soared as the blonde’s smile widened. “I’ve got one standard king room available. It’s a garden view room on the first floor.”

No. Damn. I needed to start leading with the number of rooms. “We actually need two rooms so—”

“We’ll take it.” Cash pulled out his wallet.

I should argue and insist on a hotel with two rooms. Things were tense enough as it was without us sharing a bed, but this place was a hotel resort manager’s dream.