Once I was on a roll with my explanation about why I’d been rethinking our one-night stand, the rest spilled out like word vomit. “Plus, I had two glasses of champagne on the plane. And you know, in America, they suggest giving it an hour per unit of alcohol before getting behind the wheel. No offense but…”
I shook my head at him and gave it to him straight. “You are a huge wheel. Like the kind you find behind those extremely dangerous monster trucks my little brother loves. So, I was like,Here’s the plan, Kayla. Go back to your hotel room and take at least a couple of hours to make your final decision. That way, you’ll know for sure that you’re in your right mind. Because this is kind of crazy, right?”
I waggle my hands between us. “You and me are not your usual swipe right kind of situation. In fact, I’d bet my entire 401k that I’m nothing like the women you’re used to one-night-standing.”
I trailed off into nervous silence, hoping he’d put me out of my misery, give me my suitcase back already, and send me on my way to continue living my boring, practical life.
But instead of letting of me off the hook, he asked, “What’s the third thing, then?”
“Excuse me?”
He regarded me with a lazy gaze. Like a cat toying with a mouse. But not a regular house cat.
More like a lion. In a dangerously hot British man’s clothing.
He clarified his question. “What’s the third nutty thing you’ve done in your otherwise dead, practical life?”
My heart beat in my throat, and I had to swallow it down to admit, “Saying yes to you on the plane.”
A weird, pained look came over his face. As if I’d kicked him.
“I’m sorry,” I rushed to say. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just trying to be honest.”
He shook his head. “That’s the thing, love. I’m not used to that from women.”
“Being insulted?”
“Honesty.” His eyes roamed over my face, like I was some math problem he couldn’t quite figure out. “I’m not used to women—anyone, really—just being completely honest with me. It’s a little overwhelmin’, if we’re exchangin’ truths right now.”
“Overwhelming.” A snort of laughter escaped before I could stop it. “That’s a great word for it. Now you know how I feel every time I interact with you.”
"Now I know." He laughed, too, but it was a quiet sound. And his eyes remained serious as he continued to stare down at me.
“You… um…” I swallowed again as the rays of the setting sun bathed the gorgeous hotel room in warm golden light. “You said something about getting my suitcase?”
“Yeah, I did. Earlier.” He stepped forward, closing the space between us.
Making it so I had to crank my head back to keep from speaking into his chest when I said, “Well, I should probably grab it. All my stuff is in there. Including my e-reader with the latest Clara Quinn book. And I don’t love reading on my phone, so…”
I waited for him to move away or at least point me toward my missing bag.
But he just stood there, unmoving, his leather and soap scent filling up my nose. Like a vintage song about the kind of guy you can want but never keep. “So, you’re a massive Clara Quinn fan, eh?”
“Oh, yes. The hugest!” My excitement for The Fae Realm saga temporarily eclipsed my intent to get my luggage back. “She’s my favorite author of all time, and it’s been years since her last book. Do you know her?”
“Never heard of her, actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck with an apologetic wince. “Don’t read much meself. I’m more of an action movie guy.”
“And thatCoronation Streetshow you mentioned,” I reminded him with a teasing smile.
He grinned. “Yeah, that series's mint, innit? Been watching since I was a kid. Reckon it will still be runnin’ when I’m dead in the ground.”
I tried to laugh, but found I couldn't.
It was such a silly conversation. Yet, tension crackled between us, like an electrified energy field that would shock me. If I dared to touch it.
I cleared my throat. “So, about my bag…”
“That’s your plan, then?” His black eyes locked mine into his assessing gaze. “You’re just gonna tail it back to your hotel room at the Benton Budget and wait for the booze to wear off until you’re in your right head?”
