Page 59 of Stirring Up Love
His trembling fingers caught at the waistband of his swim trunks but couldn’t seem to latch on. He managed to grab hold on the second try and shimmied the wet fabric down his thighs and kicked his legs free. And then he was naked in a rental car, the dripping water from his hair pooling on the seat back between his shoulder blades. Goodbye, deposit.
Simone opened the door with her hand over her eyes. “Decent?”
He scrambled to pull her jacket—the only dry clothing within reach—into his lap. Shoot, that was probably super creepy. Too late now.
“Good to go,” he answered, the words coming out as a rough scratch, and he bunched the coat in his fingers.
Keeping her eyes carefully averted, Simone climbed in and put the car in gear, turning out of the lot onto the winding canyon road. Ten minutes of throat clearing, awkward shifting on the seat, and foggy windows later, they pulled onto a dirt road and stopped in front of a rustic lodge.
She put the car in park. Turned to him, all business. “Okay, so I’m going to see about getting us a deal on a room for a few hours. Worst-case scenario, we pay the full rate, but you need a hot shower and some warming up. If you die of hypothermia, everyone will blame me, and goodbye my chances of a deal withThe Executives.”
“And also, I’d be dead,” he pointed out.
“That, I could live with.”
“Right. Of course. So are you going to check in, or should I?” Finn acted like he was going to lift up the jacket, and Simone shot sideways so fast her elbow collided with the glass.
“No. I’ve got it. You just ... sit tight.”
She was out the door and up the low wooden porch steps in a flash, disappearing inside the leaded glass door. He shouldn’t mess with her, especially when messing with her did a number on him. But she brought out the worst in him, in the best possible way.
He was sinking his head back against the headrest with a groan when his phone chimed. Shoot, that might be Bella, asking for a status update. Where had Simone stashed his clothes? He craned his neck, checking the back seat. His jeans lay in the footwell, and he grabbed them, then pulled out his phone.
Bella:
Your plan to get this woman on your side is really screwing with my schedule. I never realized how much you do around here.
Finn:
Careful, that sounded strangely close to a compliment.
Bella:
I’ll flatter you all day if it gets you back to work quicker. Any progress getting that woman to see reason?
Progress? More like the mother of all setbacks. First the kiss, now his impulsive nature coming to bite him in the butt.
He was typing out a response when a knock sounded on the window.
He looked up, expecting to find an indignant Simone. Nope. A mountain-size man with a long red beard covering his gray peacoat stood outside the car, frowning.
Finn cracked the window. “Hello.”
“Hi. If you’re looking for the nudist ranch, it’s up the road another couple miles.”
“What? I—no. No, this is just an accident.”
“You’re accidently ... naked?” The man’s British accent made the word sound extra indecent.
“No. I mean, dude. I’m not naked.” He pulled the coat up higher on his lap. “Well, clearly I am. But not exposed. I mean, I’m not about to flash anyone. And I am not a nudist.”
“Look,dude,” the man said, making the word sound like an insult. “No judgment. But we’re not that kind of establishment.”
The front door opened and another guy came out, thin and slight, with dreadlocks pulled back in a ponytail.
The guy who was a ringer for Tormund Giantsbane straightened up and disappeared from view, like a mountain shifting. “Elliot, I told you not to run that ad.”
“For the last time, Carter, the ad is not the issue,” the other man said, his accent bringing to mind nature-documentary narrators. “You can’t keep turning away people just because you’re worried about the noise.”
