Page 15 of Hungry Hearts

It’s only ten-thirty. Depending on traffic, it will take at least thirty minutes to park and get to the front lobby, not leaving me much time before Mrs. McAllister’s appointment. It’s doable though. As long as I don’t run into Ryder.

The casino and hotel are huge. It’s highly unlikely that he’d be hanging out in the main lobby.

“Oh. A notice popped up on your account from management. We can courier your keys to you if that’s more convenient for you.”

“Really? That’s amazing. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“We aim to please at the Four Aces.”

Job well done. Last night was quite pleasing. Five times pleasing. I blush at how loud I was screaming out to God, to Ryder, during my orgasms, begging him to go harder, faster, deeper.

How wet I was for him. How much he loved how wet I was for him.

“Ms. Remington?” Juliana asks again.

“Yes. I’m sorry?” I totally missed what she had asked.

“Where would you like us to deliver your keys?”

“Storybook Styles. It’s in Newton. Is that too far for delivery?”

“I love that salon. My sister and I took our daughters this spring for their birthdays. They had the best time.”

“I’m so glad they had fun.”

“My brother’s fiancé is having her hair done there next month for their wedding. She wants her hair done like my daughter’s. They have matching Ariel hair. You’d think they were related.”

“Oh, I think I remember your daughter. Her hair is gorgeous.”

“You’re the owner? That’s right. Maia. You were so sweet to our girls. We’ve been fangirling over your talent for months. I’m sorry I missed you when you checked out this morning. I’m sure I would have recognized you by your Belle hair.”

Many of the little girls called me Belle because of my long hair and brown eyes. It’s a compliment I’m proud of, if not undeserving.

“You’re too kind. And I appreciate the hotel delivering my keys.”

A few minutes after we hang up, I return to my paperwork. Inventory and accounting aren’t my favorite parts of the job, but they keep me in the black and are a necessary part of being a business owner.

My eyes burn even though I’ve only been staring at my computer for less than an hour. These blue light glasses aren’t at fault. It’s my lack of sleep and lack of focus tonight.

“Knock, knock,” Kaitlin taps on my open door wearing a huge grin. “There’s a courier guy here with something for you.” She fans herself with her hand and whispers. “He’s freakinghaawwt.”

She’s twenty-three and thinks every man is hot. Ignoring her swooning, I take off my glasses and stand. A dark shadow looms over her and she giggles as she steps back, and the courier now fills the doorway to my makeshift office.

Only he isn’t a courier, but he is freakinghaawwt. I nervously glance at Kaitlin, who walks backwards to the front of the salon, still fanning herself and pointing at him.

Ryder looks down at me with a grin. “Forget something?”

My office keys dangle from his finger. Dressed in worn jeans and a Red Sox T-shirt that stretches across his wide shoulders and clings to what I know to be the most delicious washboard abs, I try not to drool.

His presence is overwhelming, in the best of ways, and I can’t have him here in my private space. It only takes two steps to cross my office, but he fills the doorway so much, I can’t slip by without rubbing my body against him.

“Um. Hi. Thanks.” I reach for the keys, but he snatches them away and tucks them in the front pocket of his jeans.

“Not so fast,Maia.”

If he found out my work address, he obviously learned my name. “Courier by day and bartender by night? A man of many talents,” I joke and brush past him into the hallway. Being trapped in my office is too tempting. Too intimate. Too revealing to parts of me I don’t want him to know about.

“Some that you’re already well acquainted with.” Again, those dimples flash at me and moisture pools in my underwear against my will.

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