Page 18 of Unraveling Rain
Ruin’s grin widens as she says, “Right. If you think you want to apologize earlier, she’s the chef at the Rustic Spoon. You can catch her there most of the time.”
I nod, smiling as I slowly retreat to my room. I already knew she worked there, but I need to act like it was no big deal.
“Looking forward to our talk tomorrow,” I say, taking the stairs two at a time.
When I reach the landing, I hear Ruin call out, “Sleep well. My number is by your nightstand in case you need anything.”
I step into my room, and the first thing I notice is a king-size bed—thank God. At six-three and two hundred and thirty-five pounds, I need all the space I can get.
Two large windows frame the mountains and gardens. A desk sits off to the side with a notepad bearing the logo of Serene Lookout. There’s also a TV, a recliner, and a mini fridge stocked with water and energy drinks. The bathroom is nice and modern.
It’s quiet. Peaceful. The kind of place designed to help you heal.
And yet, as I sit on the edge of the bed, something stirs in me—restlessness, maybe. Or maybe it’s the way her name still echoesin my mind.
Rain.
I glance toward the window, the sky already beginning to shift into dusk.
Maybe I should go watch the sunset from the rocking chairs on the porch.
Sleep can wait.
Chapter 6
Rain
After I finished cleaning up the kitchen at Serene Lookout, I decided to hit the gym in town. It’s too late for a hike.
Once I change into a pair of leggings and a sports bra inside Minx, I head straight to the gym and climb onto a treadmill. I start with a brisk walk, arms stretching overhead as I draw in a deep breath. Exhaling, I lower them, rolling out the tension in my shoulders.
My body begins to loosen. Ipick up the pace until I’m running.
My mind drifts to the hot guy that I saw twice today. My sister’s patient is fine as hell. Leave it to the universe to taunt me with something—someone—I can’t have.
He’s a professional athlete, I’m sure he has a model girlfriend or a phone full of numbers. He can get any woman, any time. I’m sure of that.
I shake off thoughts of Hotshot and focus on today’s class. It was my first time teaching, and although it went well and the patients seemed engaged, I couldn’t believe how messy the kitchen was at the end. I’m proud I didn’t lose my cool and got through it.
Next time, I'll focus less on the recipe and more on how to run a kitchen—how to chop and cut without making it look like a food fight broke out. I chuckle at the thought. Maybe weshouldhave a food fight at some point. But first, they need to learn kitchen etiquette.
After running seven miles, I start a cooldown program. My body aches in a way that can only be cured with a hot shower.
I make my way to the locker room and start counting my blessings: I have peace, an awesome job, a family who loves me, and my van to catch a glimpse of the stars from anywhere.
Whatelse could I ask for?
A vision of a tall, dark, and handsome Hotshot hockey player sneaks again. Jet-black hair that probably hasn’t been touched by a comb in years but still falls in perfect waves. Dark, big brown eyes. Warm, golden skin. Tall and fit without being bulky. I even caught a glimpse of a gold chain around his neck. I’m not sure why, but there’s something extra sexy about a guy who wears a chain.
Maybe I need to pay more attention to hockey, because if the other guys look likehim…
Damn.
Instead of going home for dinner or eating in the van, I raid Rustic Spoon’s kitchen. The cooks usually take any leftovers with them, but maybe I can whip up something quick.
As I approach the main entrance, I spot someone trying to open the door, even though the neonClosed sign is lit up.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” I say as I get closer. The guy’s now peering through one of the windows.
