Page 2 of Triple Tidings
Unfortunately, my mental debate as to the merits of this plan is interrupted by confirmation it’s too late, as the bell on the front door chimes quietly, signaling the arrival of my first guest.
Oh my god, I want to die.
I’ve been stewing on this all day, yet now that the moment has arrived, I’m not even a little prepared. Tucking a wayward blonde curl behind my ear, I take a moment to get my wits together—and fail miserably—before stepping out into the lobby, meeting the bright, intelligent hazel eyes of the man who just stepped through the door.
His cheeks are flushed from the cold, his brown hair is windswept, and snow is dusting the shoulders of his dark coat. Even so, as his gaze finds me, standing in the doorway to the office—my stomach in knots—he smiles.
The knots turn to butterflies.
“Hello,” I manage to offer, clearing my throat and dragging my reluctant eyeballs away from the man who looks like he walked right off a winterwear modeling shoot. Stepping over to the desk, I’m hyperaware of the sound of his rolling suitcase dragging over the ground, coming closer as I pull up the booking software.
“Hello,” he echoes, and my heart is in my throat as I chance a peek up, only to find him standing right in front of the desk, a shy, lopsided smile tugging at one side of his lips. “Again.”
Again.
“Welcome back,” I tell him quietly, fumbling through the steps to check him in, my cheeks prickling with heat as the memory of his visit starts playing like a movie in my head.
We’d spoken a few times. I’d been the one to check him in and even went up to his room with fresh batteries for the remote control. Then, he’d come back late from the family event he was in town for. We were alone in the quiet lobby, and he wanted a drink from the bar. I was the only one on duty. I was attracted to him, and we’d started talking and… well. Yeah. Stuff happened.
In the morning, he’d been apologetic, grimacing when he informed me he had to make an early flight. I’d understood, and we’d shared one last, lingering kiss on The Chestnut’s porch as the sun rose beyond the tree line, before I watched him drive away.
It was a good memory, one uncomplicated by expectations or disappointments, and I’d thought about it a lot.
Who am I kidding? Istillthink about it a lot.
August Vogel might not have been in my life for a very long time, but he definitely made an impression.
“How have you been?” he asks, and there is a casual air to the question that isn’t quite believable.
Is he nervous right now, too?
The possibility that he might be gives me the courage to look up, meeting his eyes again and, God, it’s bordering on unfair how attractive he is. The dimples, the crooked smile, the gray threading through his temples…
It takes me a moment to remember he just asked me a question. “Oh!” I giggle, shaking myself. “Good. Really good. Are you, um, in town for another family event?”
“Just a visit for Christmas,” he confirms calmly, resting his hands atop the desk. “Meeting my brother’s new baby.”
“Congratulations. Is it a boy or a girl?”
August chuckles. “A girl. This is the third for him, so I don’t foresee any new Y chromosomes making an appearance in the family tree any time soon.”
It’s a little embarrassing that I take this statement and read it as:I haven’t entered into a serious, potential baby-making relationship in the eighteen months since our unexpected fling.
My vagina reads it as:I amopen for business.
I swallow, looking back at the computer. Seeing the need for a willpower safety net, I change his booking from room three to room eight. Which happens to be the one directly adjacent to where myotherguest will be staying, and eliminates the chances of me having sex with him.
While I’m not well-versed on the correct etiquette to follow in a situation like this, it does seem impolite to have sex with a man in a room that shares a wall with the room another man you had sex with is staying in.
“You’ll have to report back with pictures,” I tell him, leaning down to take his key from the rack below the desk, and hand it over, careful to avoid any skin-to-skin contact as I do. “We have you in room eight. I just need a quick peek at your ID and get a card on file.”
August nods, his smile a little more subdued as he hands over what I asked. “Of course.”
“Thank you so much. Please let me know if you need anything to make your stay more comfortable, Mr. Vogel.” My tone is determinately bright and professional when I hand them back, even as it feels like my abdominal organs are liquefying more with each passing second.
“Doctor.”
“Oh, I’m fine!” I splutter, a fresh surge of heat rushing to my face. Did I drool or something?
