I woke warm and confused.
Light angled across a timbered ceiling I didn’t recognize, the thin winter sun turning the knots in the beams the color of honey. For a second I couldn’t place the smell—smoke and pine and something faintly like cedar—and then the bed shifted as I breathed in, and last night clicked into place… the burst pipe, the soaked room, the night manager’s panic, and Hayes saying, in that flat, steady way that left no room to argue,She can stay in my suite.
I was in his bed. He was on the couch. My dignity was somewhere in the sliver of space between us. My phone buzzed and vibrated across the nightstand, reminding me of how much I needed to get done. There was a text from the florist, a question from the bakery, and a string of smiley emojis from Harper.
Harper:One day closer!! You’re magic!!
I slid out from under the covers and pulled my hair into a quick twist. Hayes stretched out on the couch with one arm over his eyes, his feet hanging over the edge, and a blanket covering him from the waist down. His chest was bare, and I took a second to stare at the outline of his pecs and ridges of a six-pack that trailed down to… The floor creaked. His arm dropped,and he looked up at me through thick lashes, his blue eyes clear. That readiness, the ability to instantly wake like he was prepared for anything, was like a tool he didn’t put down just because he wasn’t on a job anymore. It shouldn’t have made my chest feel steadier, but it did.
“Thanks for last night,” I said. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
“I’m not in a rush.” He pushed up to sit. “You need coffee.”
“I need to clone myself ten times, but coffee might help.”
“I’ll go with you.” The firmness in his tone said he wasn’t giving me a choice.
Ten minutes later, we were crossing the lobby. I had a large cup of coffee in my hand and was back on duty: assigning tasks to the banquet captains, confirming the lighting focus, and drafting a revised schedule while I walked. The lodge’s public face ran on charm and soft lighting while the back of house ran on lists. Lists were how I breathed.
Hayes left me in the ballroom with a promise not to bother me again. Based on how many times he’d stopped by the day before, I doubted he’d keep it. But having him around was too distracting, especially now that I knew what he looked like unguarded and vulnerable while he slept.
At ten-thirty a murmur moved through the staff corridor, and one of the younger employees skidded to a stop in the ballroom doorway. “Ms. Kincaid? Flowers are here.”
“Great.” I clipped my pen to my clipboard and headed toward the loading dock. The florist out of Silver Creek had been a dream to work with, and I couldn’t wait to see the final arrangements she’d put together.
When I reached the loading dock, my stomach twisted around like a tornado had started to swirl around inside me. Boxes sat open, revealing white roses that had turned to gray. Table centerpieces collapsed in on themselves. Hydrangeas melted to gray-green mush.
All the air got sucked out of my lungs, making it almost impossible to speak. “What happened?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Kincaid. Evidently, the flowers were delivered late yesterday afternoon, and someone on my staff left them sitting in the dock area.” The events manager I’d been working with at the hotel fingered a frozen rose petal. “We just realized the mistake.”
I nodded, my mind already working on a fix. The flowers were useless now. Everything from the bride’s bouquet to the flower petals that were supposed to scatter over the tables at the reception was ruined.
“We can fix this,” I said to the events manager. “I need the phone number of every florist, wholesaler, and greenhouse within an hour’s drive, please. Now.”
I already had a shop in Kalispell on the line. “Can I get two hundred winter white roses and clean greenery—ruscus, eucalyptus, spruce tips if the cast is blue? No yellow.”
“We can do maybe seventy-five roses,” the woman on the other end said. “With the holidays, everyone’s cleaned out.”
“Hold those for me, please,” I said. “I’ll call back with payment.”
The next shop said the same. A greenhouse on the edge of town said they’d call me back. Another wholesaler had a handful of stems but not enough to make the drive worthwhile. The numbers didn’t add up. There were too many miles, not enough hours, and a million other things that needed my attention.
“I’ll go with you,” Hayes said, like he’d been standing around long enough to know everything was about to fall down around me.
“I can’t leave,” I said. “I’ve got crews setting tables and a lighting team needing direction and?—”
“Write the list,” he said. “We’ll go now. You can boss everyone around from the passenger seat.”
“I need to be here.”
“You need to make sure the flowers are right.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “You can hand off the ballroom for a few hours. You know you can.”
He was right, and I hated that he was right because it made the decision obvious. I turned to the banquet captain and gave her the stripped-down plan. She could get enough done while I was gone that I wouldn’t be drowning in details when I got back. The flowers were important. I needed to make sure they were done the right way.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We took his truck. The tires chewed through the iced ruts at the lodge entrance and eased onto the highway.
