Whoosh. That’s my excitement, leaving my body to be replaced with a heady mix of dread and anticipation. What had been a nice little pitter-patter of my heart now ricochets violently off my ribcage. “O-kay.”
Internal eyeroll activated. Way to play it cool, Clover. Jeez.
Share a room? With Valen? Sure. No problem.
His eyes twinkle as if he can hear every thought in my head.
Standing at the threshold, Chief’s room is exactly what you’d expect. A floral bedspread from the ’80s, wood paneling that’s peeling and cracking, a TV that hangs haphazardly on the wall and probably doesn’t even work.
I’m freaking giddy over this mess. The stories I could write about this room!
Plus, it does look…cleanish. And the doors lock—I think.
“Well,” Chief says, surveying his room with the one twin bed. “I’ve seen worse. That motel in Poltney had bedbugs the size of quarters.”
“Please don’t tell that story,” I beg.
“Had to burn my luggage and?—”
“Chief.” I press my hands over my ears and hum.
He grins. “All right.” He motions for me to remove my hands. “I’m gonna take Wrecks for a proper walk, let him sort out some of that energy. Y’all get settled.”
He disappears down the walkway with Wrecks, and I turn to find Valen standing in the doorway of room thirteen, tugging on his neck.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“There’s only one bed.” There’s something…delicious about his tone, but the way he looks anywhere but at me puts me on edge.
“But she said there were two.” Using both hands, I push past him to get inside.
One full-sized bed, and that’s being generous. I doubt it’s much bigger than the twin next door. It just sits there, mocking us.
“Chief,” Valen says slowly, dangerously. “He spoke to the manager a couple of hours ago about these rooms.”
“That sneaky—” I stop as laughter bubbles in my throat. That explains why the woman at the front desk literally slammed the door in our faces. “You think he did this on purpose?”
“He absolutely did, the interfering menace that he is.”
“We could ask for another room?—”
“We could, but she said these were the last two rooms.”
“Right.”
We stand, staring at the bed like a puzzle to solve.
“I’d have Chief sleep in the RV, but that still doesn’t solve the problem of you being alone.” He paces the small porch while glaring inside the room as if it’s the room’s fault. “I’ll just sleep on the floor.”
He can’t even hide his grimace.
I scan his body, then the admittedly scary carpeting. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re like six foot five?—”
“Six three?—”
Huh. He seems much bigger. “Anyway, if you sleep on the floor, you’ll end up with a staph infection or something equally disgusting, and then who will protect me?”
“The chair then.” He steps into the room to study the chair and the ottoman that has been patched with three different patterns of fabric.
