Page 10 of Resorting to Love
“It’s not an either-or choice. Unless you’re too tired to do both? Maybe ziplining wore you out, and your stamina isn’t as great as you claimed.”
I gasp, giving him a big O that’s a whole lot less satisfying than the one he could be enjoying. “I work in the emergency department. There’s nothing I can’t keep up with, including you.”
“That’s my girl,” he says, laughing and lightly smacking my butt as he bends to collect my t-shirt. “I’m not choosing dinner over sex. We’re happening, Chloe, and believe me when I say I’m going to test that staying power you’re boasting about. But that’s later. You said you brought a dress specifically to wear in the main dining room. Now I get to be the lucky man who sees you in that dress, sits beside you at dinner, and watches you enjoy yourself.”
“Sounds like a reasonably good deal.”
“You’re sure to come out on top, sweetheart. Multiple times.” His eyebrows do a hubba-hubba wiggle that’d be goofy on most men. But Eli isn’t most men.
I already know this will be a night to remember. Maybe even the time of my life.
four
eli
I don’t pullthe celebrity card often. It’s pretentious. Hotshot bullshit. Neither thing is my style. Tonight, I made an exception and played the card, asking the resort manager for a favor. The most private table available, with as much extra space around it as possible, plus a member of the wait staff to stand nearby and subtly cut people off before they reach our table. All of which I happily paid for, and then some.
I appreciate the hell out of fans. Without them, I wouldn’t have the life I do. I wouldn’t need a special favor to ensure a bit of privacy on a date. I wouldn’t be in a position to fund that favor. That’s why ninety-nine percent of the time, fans get priority.
Tonight’s the one percent.
The main dining room in the stone lodge is full when I walk in with the most gorgeous woman in the world on my arm. The retro-vintage space a large and open, peppered primarily with tables and hardback chairs. Every head in the place turns in our direction as we follow the headwaiter to our table. All eyes should be on Chloe, and it’s a safe bet the male ones are.
Her red dress shows off her incredible body—confident shoulders, toned arms, mouthwatering cleavage, hourglass waist, curvy hips and ass. And her shapely legs in high heels… Fuck me. She said she hates wearing them, but they’re hellfire hot.
It took her under five minutes to get dressed and ready. No extra makeup. No work-of-art hairstyle I can’t run my fingers through. No excessive bling. She doesn’t need any of those things because she’s a natural goddess. Has been since she walked in on me naked. She’d been behind the wheel for ten hours, and she was still head-to-toe beautiful.
Tonight, she’s fucking stunning. So much so, I stood and stared for a solid minute when she stepped out of her bedroom. She had to hit me with a dose of her snarky humor to snap me out of my dazed and drooling state.
Once my big brain was back in charge, I pulled myself together enough to make conversation during our walk to the main lodge. It took effort, though. A conscious pushback against my urge to scoop her off her feet and carry her back to the cottage so I could feast on what’s beneath her pretty dress. She wouldn’t have argued—except about being carried, maybe, stubbornly independent woman that she is. She’s the one who suggested skipping dinner and going straight to the naked dessert. I should get an award for resisting.
But I want more from our week together than a collection of hot sex memories. Hell, I might want more than memories, period. I’ve known her a day, and the thought of saying goodbye to her at the end of the week is already gnawing at me.
At our corner table, I request the bottle of wine I ordered earlier, then pull out a chair for the most beautiful woman in the room.
“You didn’t stop at any tables when people waved and said hello,” she says, once I’m seated beside her.
“Neither did you.”
“Funny guy.” Her eyes widen as I shift closer and lace our fingers together on the tabletop. “Everyone here knows who you are, and lots of them are looking. Aren’t you worried about people interpreting this as a date?”
“That’s what it is. I’m not seeing anyone, are you?”
“Pfft, no. The closest thing I’ve had to a date recently was giving mouth-to-mouth to a toothless chain-smoker who shouldn’t have been hiking.”
“Sorry,” I say, choking back a laugh. “That’s terrible. But also amazing. Did he make it?”
She nods. “My job isn’t glamorously exciting the way yours is, but I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
Our server’s arrival cuts off my opportunity to dig deeper into the life of my captivating date. We order two of the head chef’s specialties, then I have Chloe to myself again.
The table is round, and we’re seated side by side, so I angle my body for a better view of her face. “Did you always want to be a nurse?”
She nods. “Since I was five.”
Five. The age her dad died without access to proper medical care. If they’re paging Dr. Idiot, I’m here to answer the call. Shit.
“What about you? Did you always want to be an actor?” she asks, graciously bailing me out.
