Chapter 9
SHANE STANDS IN FRONT OF our hotel room door with the keycard, swearing up a storm. I chuckle a little at his antics but don’t offer to help. I’m far too entertained by his childlike tantrum. After six attempts I can’t bite my tongue anymore, and I snatch the card from his hand. Flipping it the opposite direction he was trying, I slowly run the card in front of the door’s lock and watch as the red light turns green and the latch clicks.
“You’re welcome, babe,” I purr sarcastically, pushing my way in front of Shane and into our room.
The room is modern but classic. Two queen-sized beds take up a large portion of the room, but it’s the massive window overlooking the Congress Bridge, also known as “Bat Bridge,” that catches my attention. I step to the window and gaze at the view before me. It’s breathtaking. I know at sunset the bridge will be lined with people hoping to catch a glimpse of the bats.
And it does nothing for me. I always thought when I got here something euphoric and life altering would happen. I assumed I would have a moment of clarity, confirmation that this is where I’m supposed to be. I don’t have that feeling. It’ll probably come later when we’re walking around the city under the lights. I feel Shane wrap his arms around my waist and rest his chin on my shoulder. Sighing into him, I allow his warmth to envelop me. A sense of peace and comfort embracing me.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Shane asks, kissing my exposed neck.
“Mmm . . .” is all I’m able to respond with as he continues his assault. Like I said, master neck nibbler. I turn in his arms and welcome his kiss. His hands lower to my butt and tug me closer, his hardness evident between us. I groan a little, trying to remember I’m not going to sleep with Shane. We’re going to keep this casual. I may be the one having the thoughts to take it slow, but it’s Shane who breaks our kiss.
“We should get ready for dinner. Do you mind if I take a shower first? Then while you’re getting ready, I can run down and get ice. Maybe make us a few cocktails?”
“Sounds perfect. Thank you again for bringing me here. You’ve been so amazing to me. I know it seems weird to say, but you’ve become very special to me, and I value our friendship so much. I just . . . well, I just wanted to say thanks.” My face must resemble a strawberry. I feel like an idiot for just having spewed all of that at him.
“Hey,” he says, pulling my chin up so our eyes meet. “I love having you in my life. You’re an amazing person, and I’m happy to be here with you. I can’t wait to show you the city. Now, I’m going to shower, and we’ll get this night started.”
I nod my head in agreement and watch as he takes his duffle bag into the bathroom and closes the door. Throwing myself on the bed, I grab my phone and wish I had a girlfriend to text about how I’m feeling. How Shane makes me feel. How all of the emotions I thought Austin would provide are happening, but not because of the city, they’re because of a cowboy.
About fifteen minutes after he entered the bathroom, Shane exits wearing a T-shirt and jeans, his feet bare. I can tell from the way the T-shirt clings to him he didn’t towel off completely. My hormones are in hyper-drive and aware of this fact because they are running like it’s the freaking Boston Marathon in my veins. I pretend not to be affected and gather my toiletries for my shower.
“Umm, so I get ready pretty fast,” I mutter under my breath as I snag the plush robe from the hangers in the closet and make my way to the bathroom.
“No problem. How about I get ice and make you a drink? Then I’ll make a few calls downstairs while you get ready. Give you some privacy.”
“Sure, Shane. That’s great. So, okay well then . . . yeah, uh . . . bye,” I ramble as I close the door on him. Smooth, Mercy. Really smooth.
After a quick shower, I dry off and wrap my hair in a towel before putting on one of the complimentary robes hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I slowly open the door to make sure Shane is gone before exiting the bathroom to find a glass sitting on the desk. On the way into town, Shane stopped to pick up a bottle of my favorite vodka and some club soda. We debated the perfect vodka to mixer ratio and taking a sip, I confirm he was listening to my opinion on the subject.
Not wanting to make a liar of myself, I quickly grab my makeup and stand before the mirror in the room to begin a ritual I haven’t indulged in since arriving in Mason. As I apply foundation to my skin, evening out my freckles, I realize I haven’t stopped smiling since I closed the bathroom door on Shane. He has that effect on me.
Keeping my makeup light and natural, I sweep mascara on my lashes and apply a little of my “doesn’t budge for any reason” lip stain. Happy with my handiwork, I retrieve my bra and panties from my bag and quickly slip them on. Not one to take chances, I rush to the door and double check the security lock is in place. I can’t have Shane surprising me while I’m mostly naked.
On my way back to the bathroom, I grab my dress and hang it on the same hook I found the robe earlier. Standing before the mirror in my bra and panties, I apply a little product to my hair and bend at the waist to begin blowing my hair dry—upside down. After about fifteen minutes of blow drying, I turn the dryer off and run my fingers through my straight hair. On a whim, I brought my flat iron. I decide to add a few curls to my hair and plug it in while I slip on my dress.
As I take in my appearance, I think of how comfortable I am right now. Being here in a new-to-me city with a man I’ve known less than a week. I should be nervous or have some sort of trepidation with the situation. I don’t. this feels perfectly normal and . . . right.
After one final assessment of my appearance, I open the door to the bathroom. Just a few feet from me with his back to me, stands Shane. While I was in the bathroom, he must have changed his shirt because he’s now wearing a white collared button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. With a glass of amber liquid in his hand, he turns to face me. Dimples in full force, I’m smacked in the face with a plethora of emotion. Attraction to Shane is a given, but something about him standing before me, tousled dark brown hair, piercing eyes, and a crisp white shirt that makes his tan skin look almost the color of a café mocha . . . that attraction is intensified one hundred times. His dark jeans are snug on his toned and thick thighs, and my own thighs quiver at how strong his legs must be. I glance down to find he’s wearing his same old dirty boots and something about that is endearing and makes me smile.
“Wow,” he says, stepping toward me. “You look amazing.”
“Oh stop,” I admonish while sitting on the bed to pull on my socks and boots. “You’re the one who asked for me to wear this. You’ve already seen it.” I stand before him and take his glass from his hands, lifting it to my lips before taking a sip.
Shane steps up to me, assuming possession of his glass and tugs me close to him by my waist. I squeal a little in surprise, and he chuckles. “I may have seen it before, but like the first time I saw you, you take my breath away. Now, we should go, or I’m going to try and convince you to let me go back on my word about behaving.”
I laugh and grab my purse and coat before taking Shane’s extended hand in my own. This man was never in my plans, but I know he’s in my life for a reason. I only hope my heart is able to withstand the reason.