Chapter Four
“Slow down there, Speed Racer.”
Erin shot her sister a look and continued wearing a path into the dingy beige carpet of the attic she’d converted into her personal woman cave in high school.
Her breath came out in shallow huffs as she continued to the closet. She shoved hanger after hanger to the side, not happy with any of the selections. Seriously, when did she have such poor taste in clothes? Her hammering pulse beat wildly in her temples. In fact, her heart hadn’t stopped the damn palpitations since the moment she’d laid eyes on Jake. Pathetic? Yes. Bad for her health? Possibly. Those two crappy yogurts that were part of her stay-somewhat-healthy-while-in-carb-mecca plan weren’t even worth choking down if she went into cardiac arrest. In fact, she could totally use another bagel.
No. No time for food. She was a woman on a mission. One that involved her not looking like a complete slob at Josie’s wedding.
She may have had no chance in hell with her high school crush, but at the very least, she should have a killer outfit for the wedding.
Andie sidled up next to her as she continued to stare into the closet.
Cute dresses appropriate for a wedding: zero.
She may as well call Jake right now and tell him that she was sick. Came down with a bad case of I-officially-have-a-lame-wardrobe-itus.
Andie tapped a finger to Erin’s forehead, jostling her out of her thoughts like she’d pulled a rip cord. “Earth to Erin. Anyone home?”
“What am I going to do? I don’t have time to go shopping before tomorrow.”
Andie cocked her head, the disbelief written clearly on her face. “You don’t have anything? Not even a hoochie club dress?”
“Do I look like I’d own a hoochie-mama dress?”
Her sister gave her a once-over. “Good point. Haven’t you been to any other weddings?”
She shrugged. All of her teaching friends had either already gotten married before she’d met them or were still unmarried, like she was.
Yep. She was as surprised as her sister. How had she made it through her late twenties without owning a proper cocktail dress? Now, shoes on the other hand, she had that on lockdown. It was her personal vice.
Erin motioned toward the closet. “Take a look for yourself.”
Her sister dug through the closet, grunting and giving a few Oh my Gods when she ventured deeper. She came out seconds later holding up seven sweaters, all the same style, just different colors. “Dude. How many cardigans does a teacher need?”
She shrugged. “They were on sale.”
“You could have worn this today, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about the wedding.”
Erin stuck out her tongue and grabbed the hangers from her sister, cradling the clothes to her chest. “Hey, don’t diss my cardigans. They have feelings, you know.” Wow. She’d really hit a new low if she was defending the merit of a sweater.
Clothes. She needed formalwear that she didn’t own. For a wedding she hadn’t even known about until yesterday. This was crazy talk.
“Plus, we’re going as friends.”
Andie let out a dry laugh, which was muffled because she was back in the depths of Erin’s closet. “Sure you are.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You were all heart-eye emojis when you walked in the door. I don’t blame you. He’s hot.”
“And way too old for you.”
Her nineteen-year-old sister didn’t need to be noticing men more than a decade her senior.
“Not like you know what my type is, anyway. Maybe I’m into older men.” She reemerged from the closet, no miraculously awesome outfit in hand.
Erin let that comment slide. Her relationship with her sister had more twists and turns than Space Mountain. One day they’d be laughing their butts off over Skype, and the next, Andie was screening her calls. Erin would like to say it was teenage hormone crap, but she had a feeling that there might be more to it.
“If that’s the case, good luck bringing one home living under Mom’s roof,” Erin said. Their mom was suffocating on the best of days. The boa constrictor of love. “Have you thought any more about college?”
“I don’t think you checked in the back here. Maybe there’s a dress tucked away.” Andie disappeared into the back of the walk-in closet, completely ignoring Erin’s question.
Okay. Guess she didn’t want to have the college talk. Fair enough. It had devastated her mom when Andie had turned down a full ride to Portland State University on a track scholarship. Erin knew all about avoidance, though. She’d been doing it for the past decade. And had been successful so far.
“You could always go in a paper bag. It might be an improvement on some of these outfits.”
Erin sighed. “You’re a lot of help.”
“Like you said. You’re going as friends, so does it really matter what you wear?”
“Yes.” The answer came out so suddenly that Erin wasn’t sure if she was the one who’d said it.
An entire weekend spent with the Bennett family. For a wedding. Sure, she’d known the family well when she was a teenager, but this was Josie’s special weekend, and she didn’t want to impose. Then again, the palpable relief on Jake’s face when she’d agreed . . . Well, she wasn’t thinking about the bride’s opinion at all. Hell, with those eyes on her, she’d be hard-pressed to say no to any request.
Down, girl.
He’d asked her as a friend—nothing more. Plus, she didn’t even want to entertain thoughts of Jake in any capacity, not when she’d be back in California in a few short weeks. There was nothing to worry about here. Except for looking like she was living in a van under a bridge when they traveled to one of the fanciest resorts in central Oregon. In front of a guy who’d played front and center in High School Erin’s fantasies.
Erin peeked into the closet and eyed her sister. She wasn’t the same size as Andie, or else she’d bum clothes off her. And with her shift at her family’s food truck starting in forty minutes, that left her zero time to head to the mall . . . unless . . .
She stared at her sister, who was still riffling through the closet. “I need a favor.” She’d already managed to get her to cover tomorrow’s shift, so this was asking a lot.
Andie gave up on digging through Erin’s closet and plopped down onto the bed, squishing a few of her cardigans in the process. “The answer is no.”
Erin tossed a shirt into the open suitcase. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask you.”
“I don’t have to. You only ask for things that completely suck.”
Damn it, she was right. But there wasn’t anyone else to run the food truck if she bailed tonight. One of the college students who worked part-time for her mom had called yesterday and said he’d be back in town Saturday morning, which meant he could take over. Their mother was almost back to normal, just not able to lift anything for the next few weeks. And as much as she wanted to go to a wedding, she’d call Jake and tell him she couldn’t make it if it meant saving herself the embarrassment of showing up in her chalk-marred wardrobe. Even her best peep-toe stilettos couldn’t hide the glitter crusted into her dress slacks. Ah, the glamorous life of a teacher.
“Are you free tonight?” Erin asked.
Andie managed to look bored. A lioness toying with its prey. “Depends.” Erin hated these games because her sister was a much better negotiator. She’d suggest Andie enroll and major in law, but she didn’t want to piss her off, especially when she needed a favor.
Familial bond only went so far. Then came bribery. “On?”
Her sister pushed at her cuticle. “Can I borrow your Jimmy Choos on my date next weekend?”
Erin would not whimper. Nope. Wouldn’t happen. Not like she’d poured half of her first paycheck from teaching into buying those babies—they had sentimental value at this point. Just one of many milestones she’d achieved in her career. Her lips wobbled at the thought of not seeing her students next year, how she felt like she had so much more to give to that school.
“If you promise not to scuff them.”
The shoes in question sat tucked away in their original box in the back of her closet. She wore them on days her supervisor assessed her classes. During state testing week. Hell, she wore them whenever she needed that extra lift to feel strong. Badass. Invincible. Like Saturday night when she’d surely need the ego boost because first dates were not her forte. Not that this was a date. Just two people going to a wedding.
Hopefully the bar would be well stocked.
Jake smoothed a hand across the back of his neck. Shit. It’d been a while since he’d taken someone out. Years. Now he’d be spending an entire weekend with Erin. Hell, he didn’t even know her anymore—it was practically like taking a stranger to the wedding. The idea seemed a lot better in the heat of the moment, when they were joking around like the good old days. But now, with an overnight bag stowed in the back of his truck and time to think about all the ways this situation could go sour, he wasn’t so sure.
Chances were slim that he’d really screw it up too much since Josie had packed the itinerary so full that there were designated bathroom breaks listed. Even with the overscheduled weekend as a buffer, that didn’t stop the sweat from slicking his palms.
He cut the engine as soon as he pulled onto the street in front of Erin’s house. There were two cars parked in the narrow driveway. One was the same minivan Mrs. Jenkins had used to pick Reece and Jake up from soccer practice.
The air-conditioning unit in the first-story window hummed loudly as he shut the door to his truck and walked toward the porch. Ivy twisted around two pillars bracketing a cheery yellow-painted door.
From the street, this home resembled many of the downtown bungalows—well loved, preserved through decades of city expansion, a house similar to what he’d grown up in. A few years ago, he’d decided to move to the suburbs on the outskirts of town, because after a long day, the last thing he wanted was to be caught in the middle of the hustle and bustle of downtown.
Jake crossed the front porch and stood on the doormat. He peered down and chuckled as he scanned the cursive print that read HI, I’M MAT.
Corny as hell, but it was similar to his mother’s humor, and heck, the woman who’d raised him drove him up the wall, but he still held a soft spot in his heart for her.
Before he could lift a hand to the doorbell, the door swung open, and Erin’s mother stood with her arms spread, a smile on her face.
“Jake Bennett. Come here and give me a hug.”
He wrapped his arms around the woman who’d treated him like he was family growing up. She still smelled the same—lavender, with a touch of vanilla. It was a nice fragrance, one that was both motherly and comforting.
She held him at arm’s length and blew out a whistle as she gave his arm a firm squeeze. “Christ, boy, what are they feeding you at that fire station? I could bounce a quarter off those biceps.”
“Mom!” Erin groaned.
“What?” She shot her daughter a look. “I’m menopausal, not blind.”
Jake had the good sense to hide his amusement and instead politely smiled. He wasn’t going to get in the middle of this, especially when he was about to get a similar dose of his own mother’s comments when they arrived at Three Sisters Resort.
A tinge of pink spreading across Erin’s cheeks was the only response to her mother’s question. Damn, she was adorable.
Did Erin notice? Jake wondered. He worked out daily in order to keep fit for his job. But he’d long since stopped the peacocking he’d done in his early twenties. Something about Erin’s flustered expression sent a jolt straight to his cock.
“To answer your questions, I’m the one that cooks during my shifts at the station. It saves me having to bust out the fire extinguisher.” Cole and Reece were great at a lot of things, but cooking wasn’t one of them.
“A man who can cook”—she turned to her daughter—“Erin, this is the kind of man you need in your life.”
Erin smoothed her thumb and her index finger along her brows and muttered, “Please ignore my mother. She’s still on pain meds from the surgery. I’ll be back on Sunday. Love you. Bye.” She gave her mother a hug and murmured something in her ear, soft enough so that Jake couldn’t hear from across the room.
And with that, Erin rolled her suitcase out the door and gave a quick wave before wheeling down the walkway.
“It was a pleasure seeing you, Mrs. Jenkins.”
“You tell your mom that we need to get together to play bridge one of these nights.”
“Will do.”
She shut the door behind him, but not before giving him a little wink.
Jake grabbed Erin’s suitcase, carried it down the driveway, and hoisted it into the bed of the pickup. For a two-night trip, her bag weighed enough that it might accrue overage fees on an airline.
He rolled his shoulders back before opening the door. This was no big deal. Just one weekend out of his life. The festivities would blanket most of the awkwardness.
As he slid into the truck, he was immediately hit with the fragrance of Erin’s coconut shampoo. His goddamn eyes nearly rolled back in their sockets as the intoxicating scent hit his nose.
Friendly wedding date. Emphasis on friendly. It was a safe assumption that weddings ranked somewhere along the lines of running stair exercises in full gear, but this time he just might look forward to putting on his rental tux. Or maybe he was experiencing a contact high from all the coconut in the car.
He glanced over to Erin’s side of the truck. Her face was still bright pink as she leaned into the headrest. “So sorry about that,” she muttered.
“I spent my entire childhood at your house. Nothing your mom says will faze me.” In fact, he clearly remembered her giving the sex talk one night after she’d had one too many glasses of wine. She’d told them that in order to stay safe, they had to double-wrap it. With that logic she had bestowed on them, it was a wonder there weren’t more Jenkins siblings.
“Really? Because the older I get, the more I wonder if that is my future.”
“Unless you start pinching guys on the ass, I think you’re good.”
Her hands shot up to cover her mouth. “Oh my God, did she do that to you?”
“Not today.”
She groaned. “Glad I got you out of there before she had the chance, then.”
He turned the key in the ignition and glanced over at her. Jean shorts, a tiny black tank top, and dark red lips. His personalized version of temptation. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Ready to hit the road?”
The gravity of that statement hit him harder than a battering ram. He’d be spending the weekend with Reece’s sister. He’d run it by him the other day after he’d asked Erin, and Reece had texted back: That’s fine. Just as friends, right?
“As soon as we find a good station.” She went to reach for the presets for the radio.
He intercepted her hand before she could hit the buttons. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there, Heron.”
“Oh, so we’re back to name-calling?”
Yes. Because it was a reminder of who she was. Who she’d always be in his eyes.
Jake would first and foremost never cross his friend, but there was also the fact that he had his daughter, Bailey, to think about. And that he didn’t even know Erin anymore. She was doing him a solid by filling in to appease his mom this weekend, but that was it. End of story.
“If you’re going to mess with a man’s stations, then yes, Heron. The name is making a comeback.”
“That is the most ridiculous load of crap I’ve ever heard. Everyone knows it’s the copilot who picks the tunes.”
He cut his gaze to her. “Tunes? Okay, Grandma.”
“Holy crap. I am turning into my mother.”
“If you start pinching my ass, I’m going to have to pull the car over.”
She gave him a playful shove.
“Okay, fine. Pick the music. Let’s hear what you’re going to subject me to for three hours.” He gestured to the radio with his chin.
He put the truck into gear and turned off her street, toward the highway. Three hours. What the hell was he going to do with three hours? As long as he kept his eyes on the road, he should be fine.
To his surprise, she picked a local country station that was already on Jake’s presets. He wouldn’t have pegged her for a country fan, but then again, the woman sitting next to him was not the same person he had grown up with.
After a few minutes of listening to George Strait and Reba, Erin splayed a hand over her tanned thigh. “So nice to get out of there for the weekend.”
“Haven’t you only been in town two days?”
“You have met my mother, right?” She smiled and shook her head. “I think she’s just getting a little antsy because she doesn’t have any grandchildren yet.”
He laughed. “Word of advice: once you start, they just keep asking for more.” Even though he’d never married, his mother still asked when he’d give her another granddaughter. He loved the close-knit community his family had built. When he had been growing up, he’d never felt lonely because there had always been someone to throw a ball with. Someone to run around downtown with. Someone to get in trouble with. He wanted that for Bailey but had never found the right woman—or had stopped trying a long time ago.
A long stretch of silence passed that tripped Jake up on his momentum. It was easy talking to her once they found a rhythm, but right now it was as erratic as an EKG during a heart attack.
Erin’s muscles in her toned legs flexed as she bobbed her knees. Nervous. She was just as nervous as he was, he decided. Asking her along had seemed like a sensible choice at the time, but what was he supposed to do with her all weekend when he wasn’t busy running errands for his sister? He’d hung out with her brother all these years, not Erin. And then there’d be a million questions from Bailey. Maybe he really would have been better off going with his mother’s neighbor.
This was a bad idea. A code 10-50 bad.
More awkward silence.
Jake made the swooping loop, entering the interstate. Talk. You’ve done it before. One word after another. Before he could say anything, a semitruck moved into his lane without a signal, and Jake had to cut a hard right in order to avoid colliding with ten thousand pounds of metal. Erin squeaked, fumbling her phone. It bounced off the center console and landed somewhere near his feet.
He righted the car, his heart pounding. “Sorry about that,” he said. Worrying about the damn weekend wouldn’t do him any good if he and Erin were pancaked into US-26.
“Who needs coffee when adrenaline amps up your heart rate?” She let out a nervous laugh. She shifted in her seat, peering around the truck. “Huh. Where did my phone go?”
“By my feet.”
“Here. Let me get it before it slides under your pedals.” She reached over, gripping the armrest between them, fishing for her phone. Her hair splayed across his jeans as she pawed around. Jake kept his eyes on the road instead of the view that would surely be seared into his brain for the next year. Lush fir trees, the sun peeking over Mount Hood. Yes, if he focused on the top of the ski run, he could effectively shut her out.
“Of course it’s all the way in the corner.” She unhooked her seat belt, bent over even farther, this time gripping Jake’s leg for support. Her red nails bit into the fabric of his pants, and she let out a tiny grunt as she managed to grab her phone. An image of her nails digging into his back as he took her against a wall flashed in his mind, and he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles ached.
Holy hell.
He was going to need to keep his distance this weekend before he did something really stupid.
Her fingers left his thigh as Erin popped back into her seat and buckled herself back in. “Good thing they make protective cases, right? I drop this thing like ten times a day,” she said, smiling over at him.
“Right. Good thing.” Phone cases were the farthest thing from his mind right now, but he was trying his damnedest to be a gentleman. And failing.
After another moment of silence, Erin cleared her throat and asked, “How old is Bailey now?”
The subject of his daughter doused all his previous thoughts. “Twelve.” Twelve and 192 days, Dad. Get it right is what Bailey would say if she were in the truck with them right now. Was it bad that he would kill for his daughter to act as a buffer right now?
“Same age as my students.” Jake caught the frown out of the corner of his eye. Something had happened with her job, but he didn’t feel comfortable enough to press the issue.
“Then you know what you’re getting into.” He loved his daughter, but preteen girls were a scary breed, especially for anyone who wasn’t related.
She turned to him, those red lips twisted into a wicked smile. “Trust me. I’d take them over high schoolers any day of the week.”
That was not comforting.
One phase at a time. It was the only thought that prevented him from waving the white flag in regard to parenting.
“Where is she?”
“She wanted to ride up with Julie. They’re getting pedicures with Hazel and Josie.”
“Sounds like she’s in good hands.”
“She is. They love spoiling her.” As much as he gave his sisters shit, he knew they were taking good care of her. He’d painted Bailey’s nails when she was younger and played princess tea party, but nowadays, he had no clue how to even pique her interest besides sending her into Sephora with his credit card.
When he’d gone out with his buddies after a shift and he’d met the occasional woman, he’d kept his daughter out of the equation. He wanted to keep her safe and protected, especially after the whole Brittany debacle and the disappearance of her mother, Maisey. It had been a long time since he’d opened up to anyone besides his family and his unit. But he found himself swapping preteen horror stories with Erin as they drove over the mountain pass and the lush greenery turned to high desert, and he felt lighter than he had in years.
Erin stared at Jake’s hand as it gripped the gearshift in his truck. His thumb made slow, lazy circles around the notch of black plastic. Jake had dressed casually today, in a navy-blue T-shirt and well-worn jeans. The material of his shirt stretched to capacity around the arms, giving way to tanned skin corded with muscle. Jake had the type of biceps that Erin wouldn’t even be able to fully encompass with both hands. That, paired with the veins snaking up his forearms, and she was going to need to find something else to focus on the rest of the weekend. Perhaps the lovely high-desert scenery. Ruddy rocks and ridges were just as appealing. Yep.
She’d already made the cardinal mistake of touching the guy. The way his solid quad muscles had jumped under her touch had nearly sent her spiraling. That was it. A million and one fantasies unleashed, ones she couldn’t unsee even if an industrial-size container of bleach was involved. One minute she was trying to get her phone, and the next, Pow, hello there, Mr. Firefighter, I think my house is burning down. Please, carry me to the safety of your bed.
She focused back on their conversation. She’d managed to bring up a safe topic—his daughter. That effectively stopped the whole arsonist scenario she’d toyed with for a hot second.
Just as Jake finished telling a story about how Bailey’s recent foray into contouring was an absolute bust, he turned down the drive of Three Sisters Resort. Both were silent as they wound up the inky black road. Her gaze settled on the landscape, the dusty clay, the abundance of firs. The type of beauty that would be perfect for a panoramic postcard.
The elegant Three Sisters Lodge spanned the length of at least two football fields. A sprawling lawn of lush grass and flowers rolled down the hill, ending at a gazebo area filled with twinkling lights and white folding chairs. Erin presumed this was where Josie would be saying her vows the following evening. Canopied sitting areas were located in several spots on the grassy expanse, so inviting—the perfect spot to read a book. Or down a few margaritas. It was a charming place to have a wedding and undoubtedly cost more than her teaching salary. When she’d gotten her first paycheck, she had been stoked. Until she had realized 90 percent of it went to rent and food in the city. Nothing quite took the wind out of a newly graduated person’s sails like being thrown into adulthood.
She turned back to Jake, whose white knuckles had a death grip on the steering wheel. Tendrils of tension wound around her neck. It wouldn’t just be them in the truck anymore. Which was a shame, because even if she was fighting the whole awkward “I’d dry-hump the crap out of you” urges, it was surprisingly easy to slide back into the comfort of talking to an old friend. Now it was showtime.
“Looks like everyone is here already,” he said.
Jake pulled the truck into the large gravel lot next to the main resort entrance, parking next to a silver Mercedes. He hopped out of the truck and wound around to her side and opened the door before she had the chance to unbuckle her seat belt.
“Oh, thanks.” Oh boy. She was not expecting that sweet gesture. Neither were her ovaries. They might have been giving him a standing ovation.
To make things worse—or maybe better?—he held out his hand to help her down from the truck.
Seriously, where were these guys back home? The last guy she’d dated honked the horn instead of coming to her door when picking her up. He’d also taken her to In-N-Out for her birthday and forgotten his wallet. With everything that had just transpired in the last thirty seconds, she was 80 percent of the way to an orgasm.
Friends, she reminded herself. She was here on friend duty. She’d mingle with people, drink enough beer to alleviate the awkwardness, and then go back to bingeing on early-2000s shows, caring for her mother, and job hunting once she returned to her mom’s house.
They extracted their luggage from the truck bed. As they meandered down the walkway, Erin glanced at Jake’s overnight bag that wouldn’t even fit her hair products, let alone a weekend’s worth of clothes. Men.
She wheeled her suitcase up the cobblestone path, the wheels rolling loudly over each groove. Jake gave her a lazy smile, the skin around his eyes crinkling. One foot in front of the other. Left. Right. Left. Multitasking had always been her strong suit, but with one look at his lips, she was reduced to single-digit functions. Jake turned her into a certifiable mouth breather.
She chanced another glance at him halfway down the sidewalk. Such a deep red. They stood out against the closely trimmed beard. Erin had never been with a man with a beard. She wondered if it would tickle the inside of her thighs.
Wow.
That thought process derailed off course faster than traffic during a rainstorm in the city. Smile does not equal face time between the legs, girl. She brought her iced coffee to her lips and took a deep pull. So hot out here.
He held the door open for her as she walked through the massive entryway, rich red carpet hushing her tread as it squished beneath her sandals. If the outside looked like a small rustic palace, the inside reminded her of an elegant tree-house heaven. Wooden beams crisscrossed along the ceiling. A massive stone fireplace took up almost the entire left side of the room. Lacquered wood-and-leather chairs curved in a semicircle, facing the unlit hearth. For the middle of the day, it was surprisingly empty, only a couple of people filling up water cups out of a crystal decanter in the sitting area.
They made their way to the front desk in the center of the room. The concierge greeted them with a beaming, if somewhat forced, smile. “Welcome to Three Sisters Resort. Can I have the name of your room reservation?”
“Two rooms. Both under Jake Bennett.” Jake had insisted that there be two rooms in order to make her feel comfortable with the whole voyaging-halfway-across-the-state-to-stay-at-a-luxury-resort thing. Twist her arm a little harder, please.
The concierge entered the information and nodded. “Lucky you got here when you did. Seems we’ve had an issue with overbooking for this weekend. These are the last two rooms available. One has an excellent entrance to the butterfly garden.”
Erin and Jake quickly glanced at each other, and by the visible sag of relief in his shoulders, she could tell Jake was thinking the same thing she was: that the concierge might say something ludicrous like they’d have to share a room. Not that she’d really put up that much of a protest. But for the sake of making this weekend as painless as possible, it’d be safe not to be in a room alone with him for more than ten minutes. A girl had only so much willpower before things like Please, show me what those biceps would look like as you press me up against a wall or Can I smack your ass as you fireman-carry me to my bed? word-vomited out of her mouth. Yeah . . . this was going to be a long weekend if corny one-liners were already winning out over coherent thoughts.
“Let’s put the bags in our rooms and meet back here in twenty. Sound good?” Jake said.
She cleared her throat, hoping her thoughts weren’t etched on her heated cheeks. “Works for me.”
They v-ed off at the entrance to the suite area, and Erin took a deep, calming breath as she walked down the hallway alone. Yes, she could do this. She wouldn’t make an ass out of herself. She definitely wouldn’t end up in Jake Bennett’s bed, no matter how active her imagination was. And, oh, she was thinking up ten different ways to incorporate those sexy turnouts in the bedroom.
A quick glance at the door at the end of the hall told her she’d arrived at her destination. Shaky hands excavated the key from the pocket inside the complimentary pamphlet, and she slid it into the lock.
The mechanism beeped, and she jiggled the handle and swung open the door.
She stared.
And stared some more.
No.
She swiped at her eyes, just to make sure she wasn’t somehow hallucinating.
Nope. They were still there.
Two raccoons scampered across the bed—her bed—over the nightstands, along the headboard. They both chittered at each other, and oh my, were they pooping as they ran? The fatter raccoon shredded the fluffy white duvet, ribbons of fabric flying into the air. The other one clung to the telephone and knocked it off the nightstand. Both landed on the floor with a thud.
The door to the garden was wide open, and insects had decided the cool air-conditioned room was preferable to the midday heat.
Erin didn’t even bother stepping foot inside the room. Instead, she turned back toward the front desk and let the door slide shut behind her.