He was an ex-con.
An ex-con I had no business thinking about, yet I couldn’t seem to stop.
I forced myself to deal with the situation at hand. I called the tow truck company and left a message. It was only eight o’clock, and I hoped they’d call back tonight.
Tossing my phone aside, I then grabbed the brown paper welcome bag. Town map. A jar of local honey. A mesh satchel of loose-leaf tea.
I brought the tea to my nose and inhaled. It smelled like dried berries.
After I set the welcome bag of goodies aside, I unzipped my suitcase. I pulled out my toiletries and headed for the bathroom.
There were expensive bubble bath products on the wooden shelf fastened to the wall next to the clawfoot tub. The idea of cracking open the bottle of wine and eating chocolate while soaking was appealing.
But drinking alone and gorging myself was nothing more than a symptom of depression. And it would only make me feel worse in the morning.
So, I took a shower. Washed the day off me. Then girded my loins for what I was about to do.
CHAPTER THREE
The B&B
I raised my fist and knocked on Brooks’ door. When he didn’t answer right away, I thought about tucking tail and running back to my room—but if I retreated, that would mean I would be alone and being alone meant I would have time to think . . . and I wasdesperatelytrying to do anything but that.
I was just about to give up and leave when the door suddenly opened and Brooks stood there in nothing but a towel. Dark hair mussed and damp.
A garbled noise escaped my mouth as I took in his inked, bare chest glistening with water droplets.
“Poet?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “Are you okay?”
I dragged my gaze from his pecs to meet his eyes.
Golden eyes.
Whiskey eyes.
Eyes that had wrinkles at the corners of them.
“Did you say something?” I asked stupidly.
His mouth flickered with amusement. “I asked if you were okay?”
“Oh. I’m fine.”
Really fine.
His brows slashed together in confusion at my appearance.
“I just thought if you weren’t busy you might want to share a bottle of wine and the chocolates I bought.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth. “I’m not busy.”
“Great!” I chirped, hating that I sounded like an enthusiastic cheerleader. “Come on over once you put on a pair of pants.”
I gave myself a mental head thwack. Apparently, I was a rambling hormonal idiot.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll be over in a few.”
I scuttled back to my room and left the door cracked.
