Page 13 of Resorting to Love
“It did,” I say, carefully returning her feet to the ground. “Pretty sure that’s not the type of ‘reconnecting with nature’ they have in mind here, but it gets ten stars from me.”
“I don’t know how star ratings work in Hollywood, but I think five is the max here.”
“We get our own scale,” I say, pulling her into my arms and dipping down for a lingering kiss that has my cock stirring.
Her eyes pop open when I press my renewed hard-on against her abdomen. “Round two, already? Did you have something small and blue for an appetizer?”
“You’re my appetizer. My main course, and my dessert. It’s all you. Only you, Chloe.”
“Then we’d better get to the cabin, because that sounds like we’re going to be enjoying a lot of room service.” Her laughter carries in the night air when I scoop her off her feet and into my arms.
Full dark will surround us in a few minutes, but in the last layer of twilight, the emotions playing across her face are still visible. Whatever this wildfire connection between us is, she feels it too.
five
chloe
My muscles protestwhen I roll over to grab my ringing phone from the bedside table. I’m in decent shape. I exercise regularly. None of my workouts compare to the “Eli Wood fucked me six ways til Sunday” routine from last night. On the subject of my new favorite actor whose work I’ve never seen—he’s not here. My disappointment—and whatever other growly emotions I can call up—will have to wait.
“Hey, kiddo,” I say, hitting the Accept button. I manage to keep my tone cool, but inside, I’m in panic mode. My little sister was beyond gung ho for me to take this trip. For her to be calling on my second morning here, something must be wrong. Knowing my life—something’sterriblywrong. “Are you okay? Is it the baby? Your dog? Grandma?” So much for keeping my cool.
“I’m fine. Everythinghereis fine.” Esme’s no shrinking violet, and she’s the only person capable of besting me at snark—which she’s not wielding.
“Are you calling to see if I’ve met the man of my dreams and fallen madly in love?” I ask, because one of us better bring the sarcasm to this conversation. It’s how we roll. Plus, part of me wants her to ask if I’ve met someone, so I can tell her about Eli. We can’t be a forever couple, but this week is shaping up to be one of the best of my life.
Too many seconds tick by without a laugh, snort, or even a sigh. There’s just silence on Esme’s end of the call.
“Okay, seriously. What’s going on?”
“You’regoing on, Chloe. It’s eight o’clock, haven’t you at least looked at your phone yet?”
“Only to answer your call. I’m on vacation, remember?” I toss the question out with a laugh, but it’s like throwing humor into a mirth-sucking black hole. “Your silence is freaking me out,” I say, clutching the sheet to my naked body as I sit.
“You really don’t know?”
“Oh my God, no. Whatever you’re calling about is a mystery to me. I just woke up, I haven’t even had a cup of coffee yet. I don’t have enough pistons firing to play a guessing game. Skip the suspense and enlighten me, please.”
“Okay.” A thousand kilometers away, my thirty-one-year-old baby sister draws a long breath. “You’re headline news. Small-town, Canadian nurse saves man’s life at picturesque Virginia mountain resort. There’s a viral video of you giving CPR on the dining-room floor. It currently has… Oh, wow. It’s really going up quickly. Over two million views so far.”
“What the shit!” I spring out of bed, taking the sheet with me and wrapping it around myself like a toga that nearly trips me in my hurry to the living room.
Eli isn’t here, either. Guess I won’t be Googling myself until I hang up with Esme.
“I don’t get it. People give lifesaving first aid every day, and nobody takes notice,” I say, dropping onto the couch and closing my still-sleepy eyes. “Was the guy I jumpstarted famous or something?”
“I don’t know, but the guy you’re with in theotherphotos is.”
My eyes pop open, and my pulse takes off like a jet. “What other photos?”
“I’ll send you some links. Just… They’re kind of shocking at first glance, but nothing’s showing, so… Don’t freak out.”
“How am I supposed to avoid freaking out when you preface it that way?”
“Okay, they’re sent.” Her voice coincides with text tone pinging through the speaker. “I’m going to hang up so you can, um, do whatever you’re going to do. But call me back, because holy crap, Chloe—you and Eli Wood?”
I groan as the line disconnects. Phone clutched in my fist, I draw a deep breath. Esme has always been the expressive type. Whatever she sent, it can’t be as big a deal as she made it out to be. Exhaling, I pull up her message and tap the first link. Then jerk to my feet as if the couch has an ejector setting.
“Oh. My. God.”
