“Hold on, folks,” the bartender, who long ago gave up his flirtatious endeavors, calls out. “We’ve got emergency floodlights.”
A moment later, the space is lit up with shockingly harsh white lights that have everyone squinting and using their hands to shield their eyes.
“Your servers will be around to have you sign off on your bills with your room numbers,” he calls out again, and then the chatter of the remaining diners left lingering late into the evening starts up again.
“Seems like they’ve done this before,” Amy says.
“I’m sure they have. I don’t think tropical storms and hurricanes hit Bermuda often, but I’m guessing they prepare for this.”
We finish our third round of drinks as we wait for the bartender to bring over the paper slips with our orders, andwhen we list our room numbers, she’s giggling as she says, “Of course we’re like three rooms away from each other.”
“Here,” I say, putting my hand on her lower back when she steps down from the barstool. “I’ll walk you back.”
She gives me a look that I can only describe as a smirk. “Walk me back to...?”
I press my hand to her lower back, positioning myself on the outside to hopefully block some of the wind and rain, before we step outside. “That’s really up to you. I’m sure our rooms are both equally comfortable.”
Her chest and neck flush before she turns toward the door. We rush along the side of the building under the covered walkway that leads back to the hotel, trying to avoid the wind that’s blowing in sideways while also trying not to slip on the wet concrete.
By the time we make it into the lobby, we’re both drenched but laughing. From there, we head back out under another covered walkway lit by floodlights. All the rooms open to these outdoor walkways, which I’m sure is a great feature when there’s not a tropical storm bearing down on the island.
We head up the two flights of stairs which are thankfully encased inside brightly painted stucco walls, and then we’re out onto the third-floor hallway. My room comes up first.
“This is me,” I say, nodding toward my room. “Want to come in for a nightcap?”
“I think three drinks is enough for you, my lightweight dentist friend,” she says with a laugh, as she taps my breastbone with her finger. I understand perfectly. Three drinks is enough forher.She’s not drunk, but I get the sense that one more drink might send her into that territory.
I capture her hand in mine, holding it to my chest as I pull her closer. “How about just coming in, not for a drink, then?”
“Sounds perfect,” she says.
Chapter Five
MORGAN
“Your room is neater than I’d have expected for a single guy,” I say, trailing my finger along the row of clothes, hung and organized by garment type, in the closet. “Wait, youaresingle, aren’t you?”
The look of horror that must pass over my face has him chuckling. “Very single, I assure you.”
“When’s the last time you were in a relationship?” I ask casually, walking past him and heading toward the windows at the far side of the room. The curtains are still open but you can’t see anything but the river of rain running down the large panes of glass.
“About ten years ago.”
That has me spinning back toward him. I know that the identity I crafted for him at the bar is fictitious, but I can’t see any obvious reason the real-life man standing in front of me wouldn’t be taken. “Why?”
“I’m not really the settling down type.”
That has me rolling my eyes. “You and every other guy who makes it to thirty unmarried.”
“Hey,” he says, his voice dropping so it’s low and sensual. “My life isn’t conducive to a long-term relationship.”
That has me all kinds of curious, but I don’t pry. My dentist, Nicholas, absolutely has the kind of life that’s conducive to a long-term relationship. So much so that there’s no way he wouldn’t be married with kids already. Which meansthis guy, whoever he is, is the much better choice for a vacation fling.
“Well, that makes you kind of perfect for right now,” I say, stepping toward him. He meets me halfway. “Doesn’t it?”
“Whatever you need right now is exactly what I’m here for.” He says it with the confidence of a man who always gets what he wants.
I tilt my head up toward him, and a shiver runs up my spine. The air in here is cool and crisp, a sure sign the air-conditioning was still working until the power went out.
