She yanked out the registration packet, ignoring how the words swam in front her eyes. She didn’t need words. Just a cabin number.
And a map.
Maybe some good luck, too.
And because it had been a pretty good day, she found both. First a map, which was easy to read and follow, and then the excellent luck of her cabin being a straight shot down a path just to her left.
The moon lit her way, and before too long she found the right cabin. It was bigger than she expected, with a wide porch and a squeaky screen door.
Inside, she couldn’t find a light switch.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus, maybe there was no electricity in the cabins. She racked her brain, trying to remember what Tegan had said about roughing it in luxury. Was no electricity compatible with lux accommodation?
Her head swam in confusion, and she decided that could be tomorrow’s question to answer.
She looked around for her backpack, helpfully delivered by one of the handsome muscle men, but that was missing with the electricity. Maybe there was a dressing room she couldn’t find in the dark.
Maybe she was drunk.
Yes, oh Lord, she was definitely drunk.
Time for bed, Grace.
Luckily the bed was in the middle of the room, big and covered in fluffy bedding. Relatively visible compared to the darkness of everything else. She zeroed in on the edge of it as she kicked off her shoes.
Whoa, that was hard. She wasn’t even going to worry about her clothes. Better to leave them on than find herself on the floor, banged up because she couldn’t work a button hole. She bumped against the mattress and tumbled forward, rolling under the blanket—and straight into a big, hard body, heavy enough to be weighing down the mattress.
Panic zapped through her.
There was someone else in her bed.
“Bia,” the body rumbled, its voice warm and sleepy. Male. “Come here, baby. Lemme hold you. I’ll be gentle.”
Hands grabbed her—hey, buddy, that’s not exactly gentle as advertised—and hauled her into the dip in the mattress before she could respond. But as soon as she stopped moving and the body shifted, a heavy weight against and around her, she responded like a demon spawn.
“Get off me!” She shoved hard, but inefficiently, and then scrabbled for a better…anything. Hold, leverage point, something to bite. She wasn’t picky.
She was in bed with a stranger and he was ten seconds away from—
His hand slid under her shirt and his fingers splayed wide across her bare skin.
—groping her.
Too late.
“Stop. Fire.Fire!” Why didn’t that work? “Hey, buddy, wake the hell up! I’m not Bia.”
The body froze.
A long, agonizing beat stretched wide, then he was gone, shoving away from her as he jumped out of her bed.
She was about to follow him with more indignant yelling when she realized he was…not crying, exactly. But something.
Groaning.
Swearing, in an agonized way.
Besides, she wasn’t sure she could leap out of bed in the same agile way he did.
