Page 2 of The One You Chose

“Skol House. Skol likecheers, not like a skeleton.“ In the air, I mimicked someone toasting a beer. My cheeks felt warm, and I ran my hands over the front of my dress, drying them as best I could. “They like a good Nordic theme around here.”

“I’m learning that. I’ve only been here in town for a few weeks, but I have noticed there are a lot more Viking helmets for sale than in your average place.” He grinned and I felt my knees get weak. He had a perfect row of straight white teeth. Reflexively I smiled back at him, hoping my red lipstick hadn’t faded to only the outline of my lips the way it always seemed to. He put his hand out. “Fitz.”

Putting my hand in his, a zip of energy traveled up my arm, warming my insides and other neglected areas I couldn’t focus on yet. Sucking in a breath, I fought to compose myself. “Lina.”

The street light above us blanched my skin. Fitz held on to my hand for a while. I had the sense he might bring my hand to his lips and kiss the back of my hand like those historical dramas I loved to watch when I was sick. His thumb traced the skin there before dropping my hand and my skin tingled from the contact.

That’s interesting.

“Are you having a good time, Lina?” His mouth wrapped around my name like a prayer.

“Can I be honest?” I asked. When Fitz nodded, I breathed out loudly. “I’m not. My friend Zoya talked me into wearing these shoes after three shots of tequila. I couldn’t feel my toes then, but I can feel them now.”

Gritting my teeth, I decided I was done for the night. Chad was a bust, creepy Matt Hanson was a bust and I certainly wasn’t going to find any more happiness wearing these shoes. I rested my back against the garage door, lifting one foot up and pulling the strappy heel off. Setting my bare foot on the ground, I repeated the motion with my other foot. Fitz watched as if transfixed by the movements. Something about the way he watched me as I moved made me feel like I was removing more than just my shoes. I liked the thrum of excitement his look gave me.

“So let’s get out of here.” He blinked at me as if he was as surprised by the words as I was. He held out his hand. “Do you want to?”

I thought about laughing. Any sane person would in that scenario. This guy was a stranger in my small town. I watched enough true crime to know this was exactly the way to end up weighed down by a cement block in the middle of Freedom Bay and having Keith Morrison saying I lit up every room I walked into. Which would be emphatically false.

Opening my mouth to decline, I found myself doing the opposite. Nodding, I wordlessly took his hand, lacing my fingers with his. Marveling at the softness of his palm and the callouses on his fingertips. Our hands fit together perfectly.

Inside my chest, it was as if a wave washed through me. His hand in mine. The quiet assurance of his strong grip of my palm. The way he looked at me. I didn’t know what this feeling was coursing through me. All I knew was I wanted to feel that way again. An implacable calm overtook me. I would go home with this man. He was different. I would be different. If only for the night.

He took the shoes out of my hand and looped the strap over a finger, letting them dangle from his other hand. As I followed behind him, my body warmed with anticipation.

I kept telling myself I wasn’t the sort of girl who did this. Never had I left the bar with a guy, much less one that I only met minutes before. I couldn’t do hookups. This wasn’t the anonymity of Seattle. This was Ridgewood, where my doctor also lived next door to my parents. Where when I was caught making out with my high school boyfriend behind the junior high, the cops called my parents before I returned home. I knew most of the men my age in Ridgewood, except for the military guys from the nearby naval base that filtered through the bar and then were gone months later.

Fitz was neither of these things. His hair was too long to be in the service. He held himself differently. He was like nothing I had ever seen before.

I knew it could all be a mistake, but damnit, I was canceled on by a guy I didn’t want to date. My hair looked good and this beautiful man was standing in front of me, wanting me. I might never identify exactly what it was inside me that told me to take this chance. For the first time in my life, I went blindly into the night.

two

Fondly Kissing

Lina

InRidgewood,therewasthe Freedom Bay Resort, down by the water and costing hundreds of dollars a night. It boasted a full-service spa, room service, and summer concerts. Then there were the Ridgewood Inn and Suites, which had none of those things. As a teenager, we used to sneak into the hot tub of the inn. The fence around the pool had a faulty lock that all the teenagers knew how to open. You had to time it just right to get past the night security guard. A year after I left high school, the inn finally upgraded the lock to one that required a room key. My deprived younger brother never got to experience the joy of sneaking in.

Standing behind him, I waited as he unlocked one of the many blank doors in a long row facing the main road. “You live in the hotel?”

“It’s an extended stay place, and it’s just for a few more days. My rental won’t be ready until the first. I promise I don’t plan on living out of a hotel room for long.”

He shot me a warm smile over his shoulder as he pulled the door open. As he glanced away into the hotel room, I pulled my phone out and shot a quick text to Zoya that if I was murdered; it was the guy in room 209 of the Ridgewood Inn and Suites.

“Sending your friend your location?” He smirked at me and my nether bits tingled.

“No, I was...” Damn, I never could lie.

“It’s okay. You have to stay safe, right? I can get my driver’s license out if you want a picture of that, too.” His eyes were genuine. I could tell he wasn’t making fun of me and that his offer only solidified my decision.

I tried to squash the smile that was forming. “No, that’s okay.”

“The offer stands.” Fitz turned all the lights on in the hotel room as we entered. Glancing around, I saw the room was in disarray. There were still dishes in the sink and his clothes were piled in a chair beside the bed.

“Sorry if I had known I’d have company I’d of done the dishes,” he paused, glancing at the chair. “And put the clothes away.”

My eyes caught on the suitcase on the floor. “You’re living in a hotel room, all alone over Thanksgiving weekend.”

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