Nicki Night - His Love Lesson

“Oh.” That was all Chey could say. She felt horrible for them and almost guilty for having so much space to herself. However, as a woman traveling alone, she had to be careful.

Chey thanked the clerk for the toothbrush and headed across the lobby to the café. On her way she spotted the handsome stranger who’d been in her room earlier. Trying to be discreet, she watched him from the corner of her eye as he lay with his head back in a large rocking chair with his feet up on an ottoman. Damn! she thought again. He was ridiculously handsome. Just as she crossed in front of him, he lifted his head and attempted to shift his body in the chair. He opened his eyes and Chey quickly turned away. In her peripheral vision, she could see him nestling in his newfound position. He still looked incredibly uncomfortable.

Chey went into the café and ordered a salad and sandwich with a hot cocoa. Her mind kept drifting back to the stranger the entire time she ate and she wondered if he would end up sleeping in that chair all night.

“Excuse me.”

It was that voice again. Chey swallowed hard before looking up to acknowledge the person.

“Hi. Can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you would mind if I joined you at your table.”

Chey looked around, wondering why he hadn’t pursued any other empty seat and quickly realized that there weren’t any. The café was full, probably with all the people who had no place to sleep.

Sheepishly, she drew into her shoulders, silently chiding herself for wanting to send him away. The truth was, she couldn’t trust herself to be around him without staring as if he were on display at a museum. She assessed him again—smooth brown skin, penetrating eyes, luscious lips framed sharply by a handsome goatee. Geesh!

He pleaded with his eyes and then his mouth. “I wouldn’t bother you, but there’s no place to sit and although I don’t know you, I know these other folks even less.” He chuckled and the beautiful sultry sound of his laughter made her think of a cool breeze blowing in a meadow at sundown. How corny!

Chey pulled her food closer to her side of the table, making room for him to place his food down. He sat directly in front of her and she rolled her eyes before she realized it. She hadn’t meant to be rude. She just didn’t want the pressure.

Chey allowed herself to look at him and managed a small smile. “Sorry if I seem a little...insolent... I’ve had such a long day.”

“Tell me about it. Whew!” Hunter took a spoonful of his soup and sipped.

Chey watched as his lips puckered to take in the hot liquid. Mmm!

“So...” Chey hesitated, not sure if she wanted to actually start a conversation with him. “Are you...stranded?” She braced herself for his answer as if that were a hard question. She felt bad already.

“Unfortunately, yes. I was supposed to go home earlier today, but my flight was delayed and then eventually canceled.

“Oh.” What was she supposed to do with that information? She couldn’t invite this strange man into her villa. Now she regretted asking him. Chey allowed silence to envelop them. She listened as he quietly sipped his soup.

Part of her wanted to offer him her second room and part of her wanted to stay as far away from him as possible. There was something about him, something that pulled at her, and with her new spontaneous nature, she wasn’t sure if that pull would overcome her sense of reason. Secretly she took in his thick silky brows, high cheekbones, bedroom eyes and the strong lines of his chin. This man was chiseled to perfection. She deduced that she probably wasn’t his type anyway. She’d noticed his designer luggage. He looked like the type who preferred high-end stilettos, long flowing hair that hit the tailbone, and backgrounds of a certain pedigree. He was probably a wealthy prick like Todd.

Chey found herself wondering if Hunter would find her passion for creating fragrances silly and then cast those thoughts from her mind. Why was she even thinking about such things? “Nice seeing you again...um...?” She pretended to forget his name.

“Hunter,” he interjected and held his hand out once again.

Chey shook it and that same feeling from before returned—a slight flutter in her belly.

“Well...” she cleared her throat “...have a good night. I guess I’ll see you around.”

“I’m sure. Probably right here in the same spot.” He chuckled.

“Oh. Sorry,” Chey said for lack of anything better. “Good night,” she said again.

Chey didn’t stop walking until she reached her villa. She pushed the door open, then quickly closed it behind her and leaned her back against it. Why was her heart beating so fast? Why was she flustered? Chey had carefully planned out her day and now that she’d had another encounter with the stranger—Hunter—she was mentally off balance.

Shaking off the feeling that had attached itself to her from the moment he touched her hand again, Chey headed to the first bedroom and pulled out her laptop. She decided to work on her novel. She booted up her computer and started reading through the last chapter she’d written. Every time she read the male character’s lines, she imagined Hunter’s voice, until finally she put the laptop aside and burst out laughing.

Chey lay back on the comfortable bed and savored the firmness of the mattress as it seemed to mold itself to her body. A vision of Hunter sleeping uneasily in that chair in the lobby popped into her mind. Chey closed her eyes tight in an attempt to rid herself of thoughts of him. She worked at this for some time before rising from the bed, bundling up and heading back to the main reception area to find Hunter, who was now “resting” in a new chair.

“You can have the second room in my villa on one condition.”

Chapter 7

It almost didn’t matter what condition this brown beauty was about to give Hunter. He was all in. The chair he had been sleeping in had given him a literal pain in his neck and back.

Between uncomfortable naps, he had checked in with the airlines religiously for updates. The flight that he was supposed to go out on in the morning had now been pushed back to sometime in the afternoon. The fact that all of his frat brothers had reached their warmer destinations made Hunter even more miserable. Chey’s condition would give him hope if nothing else.

He watched her pretty glossed lips as she spoke.

“I’m working on a very important project and I really need to be able to concentrate. If you can keep distractions to a minimum, then you can have that extra room.”

Hunter was ready to follow her to the cozy villa and already anticipated a decent night’s sleep. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had told him that the condition meant he’d have to sleep hanging from the rafters upside down like a bat; it had to be better than the lobby, which now resembled a New York train station filled with homeless people seeking shelter in the dead of the winter.

Hunter noticed her hesitation even as she offered him the invitation and completely understood.

“I appreciate this very much and will be sure to respect your space. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. I have to get to the airport early anyway, so hopefully, I won’t be too much of a bother.” He said what he hoped. If his flight got pushed back any further, he could be looking at another day in the mountains. He’d hate to have to impose on her any further, but after sleeping on the memory foam mattress in the room, he couldn’t possibly go back to the hard chair with the worn cushions.

“Agreed?” Chey asked after he was done.

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Agreed!” Hunter took Chey’s outstretched hand and shook it vigorously even though he had heard only part of what she’d said. The prospect of sleep took over his mind and senses, but he didn’t miss the spark that he felt when he touched her hand again. “I’ll keep my noise to a minimum. I’m not a serial killer or a nutcase, so I’ll do my best not to creep you out, and I certainly don’t mind taking the smaller room.” He summed up her statements and tried to reassure her with a little humor at the same time. He also chose to blatantly ignore the electric current that circulated in his gut. He wondered if she’d felt it. Was it real or a figment of his weary mind?