Page 37 of Triple Tidings
They don’t pass by, however. My breath catches as the car slows, a blinker visible even from here, and turns slowly into The Chestnut’s nearly empty parking lot.
I gasp, darting away from the window and almost sprinting across the lobby to my office. A single, horrible realization is blaring like an alarm in my— suddenly wide-awake—mind;I didn’t close online reservations for the weekend. Why would I, when I was practically praying some other guest would book an eleventh-hour reservation to be an inadvertent buffer in my one-night-stand reunion?
“Shit, shit, shit,” I hiss, skidding into the small space. Lunging forward, I wiggle the computer mouse. It seems to take much longer than usual for the device to come to life as I stare at it, straining my hearing for the sound of guests approaching.
Sure enough, as soon as I get the reservations software up, there is a notification of a last-minute booking, made only an hour ago.
Groaning, I seize a hair clip from the corner of my desk, thanking all the heavens and stars above that I didn’t decide to wander down here with no pants on. Just as I’m examining my reflection in my phone screen, searching for indications that I just finished a weekend-long sex marathon, the bells on the front door chime softly.
My practicedhospitalitysmile is a little stiff as I set down my phone and step out of the office. A young family is making their way clumsily into the room, weighed down with several bags, a toddler, a baby in a car seat, and a collection of stuffed animals.
“Hello! Welcome to The Chestnut Bed and Breakfast!” I greet them, hurrying out from behind the desk to close the door afterthe husband, who is too preoccupied making sure their baby is asleep to pay me any mind.
His wife, however, smiles gratefully, pulling the toddler higher on her hip as she follows me back to the desk. “We literally just reserved a room like an hour ago. I’m so sorry. It’s been a whole freaking day.”
I feel a pang of sympathy. She does look exhausted, and so does the little boy in her arms, who gazes blearily at me from beneath an untidy mop of brown curls.
“Oh my gosh, I’m just happy we had something available,” I assure her warmly. “Travel trouble?”
She makes a face that clearly confirms this assumption was correct. “We were supposed to arrive this morning and drive in to spend the day with my grandparents. They’re an hour from here. There was a delay, and we missed our connecting flight. Then the stinking rental car place gave away our car, and…” She trails off, shaking her head in disgust.
“Well, how about I make something special for breakfast? Since you were so good for Mom and Dad during all that nonsense?” I address the little boy, who appears pleased by this information.
“Pancakes?” he asks, looking to his mother for approval.
She looks like she could hug me.
“You’ve got it.” This is the stuff I live for, making my guests feel welcome and appreciated, and my heavy heart is a little lighter as I pull up their reservation on the reception desk computer.
“It should be under Harrison,” she tells me, “either Brooks or Delta.”
Her husband appears at her side, carefully swinging the baby seat to keep their infant asleep, and up close, I can see he looks almost as exhausted as she does. He’s also older than her. Bymore than a few years, judging by the silver threading through the temples of his dark brown curls.
“We booked it with your account,” he reminds her patiently, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders. “So the reservation would be under Delta Harrison.” He leans down to press his lips to her temple.
God, doeseveryonehave a gorgeous, adoring older husband but me? It’s starting to seem that way, and I need to cool it, because the jealousy definitely isn’t a good look.
“Okay, I’ve got you in room number one, which is our largest,” I tell them once we’ve taken care of the check-in business, snagging the appropriate key from its hook. “Technically, checkout is at eleven, butpleasetake your time tomorrow. I’m sure you’re all exhausted, and we have nobody in there until Wednesday.”
The couple looks extremely relieved and thanks me profusely as they make their noisy way upstairs. I remain at my post, smiling at Mr. Harrison when he comes back downstairs to get the rest of their things from the car.
When he’s back inside, and it’s clear they’re situated for the night, whatever energy I had left seems to drain from my body. Tired and sad, I round the desk and sink down in one of the lobby’s many squashy armchairs.
I’d known this was very nearly it for me, Wells, and August’s weekend together, but the unexpected arrival of the Harrison family took whatever was left.
My head snaps up at the unexpected sound of footsteps on the stairs, and I tense, preparing to lurch to my feet. It isn’t my guests, though, or at least, not the ones I’ve maintained any level of professionalism with. Neither of them looks particularly happy, but August’s frown deepens further as he scans the room, his eyes finding me in the chair by the fire.
“Unexpected guests,” I inform them quietly, curling my arms around my middle, and watching as they cross to sit on the couch beside me. “They had little kids; I couldn’t exactly turn them away.”
“Of course not,” Wells agrees, glancing at August before his eyes return to me.
None of us speaks.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I attempt a smile. “I thought we’d all say goodbye in the morning, but…” No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to make the words come.This is it for us.
August rakes a hand through his hair. “It’s goodbye for me, anyway.” There’s an unmistakable bitterness in his voice, and as he glances between us, I can sense the question he’s aching to ask but won’t allow himself to.
I grimace. Wells didn’t come looking for me after we slept together last summer, so I’m hardly expecting him to do so now.
