“Do you have a room available for the night?” The lady asks, as she walks toward the counter. My heart is beating a hundred miles a minute. That’s because this is not an unusual question tonight. It’s also because I do have a room available—exactly one room. Which means when I complete this transaction the Hard Acre Motel is officially SOLD OUT.

They’ve been coming in all day like this. I thought we were just getting lucky the first couple of times it happened. Then, after the fourth booking, I began to wonder… but now?

“We have one room left. It’s a king and all our rooms are non-smoking,” I tell her crossing my fingers she says yes.

“We’ll take it! I’m so glad we saw your billboard on the interstate. You know you’re the only motel or hotel listed for Clancy and Merner?”

“We are?” I ask, even though I know that. I checked into that before I moved here. Still, I’m kind of in shock from what she said just before that.

“You are. We were getting so tired and your sign was like a godsend.”

“Our sign?”

“Yeah, that huge billboard two exits back. We were in a panic. There’s a big antique sale this weekend in Merner and we stupidly didn’t check in advance for places to stay.”

“Well, I’m so glad you gave us a chance,” I tell her and then give her the price for our room. After I’ve booked her room, I hand her the key. “I really do hope you enjoy your stay. Check out time is noon.”

“Oh my goodness it’s a key! I love it! It’s so quaint.”

“We strive for a vintage feel here,” I tell her, not bothering to mention that those card sliders were hella-expensive.

“It’s amazing and the outside is so pretty! We travel through this area often. We’ll definitely be returning.”

“I’m so glad. You have a good night and if you need anything dial zero from the phone in your room,” I tell her, wondering if she will find the rotary dial phones quaint too.

“We will. Good night!”

I sit and look at my ledger. The ledger that now shows that every room in the motel is booked. I have no idea what sign she’s talking about. Is it possible she got our motel confused with something else? I have myself mostly convinced of that, after all, it can be the only explanation.

And then… the phone starts ringing.

People driving the interstate see our billboard and are trying to see if we have vacancies. After five calls, I’m almost crying. After three more calls asking for rooms for tomorrow, I do cry. When I flip on the neon sign that says NO in front of the vacancy out front, I cry a little harder.

“Babe I got Jack to bed, do you need me to give you a break?” Aden asks, coming into the main lobby.

I stand there and look at him. I don’t know why or how I know, but somehow I do.

“We’re booked solid,” I whisper. He stops. For a brief moment shock flashes across his face, and then those perfect lips of his, they are mostly hidden by his beard—which is sad, but the beard is sexy so that’s not sad at all—spread into a smile and his eyes sparkle.

“We are?” he asks.

“I’ve had to turn away customers,” I whisper again, and tears are still sliding from my eyes, but I ignore the wetness and concentrate on Aden.

“That’s good.”

“I even had to clean out your room and rent that one too.”

“That’s really, really good,” he grins.

“Half of the guests are booked for tomorrow night too,” I whisper—again.

“That’s really great.”

“I’ve had several more call in to book for tomorrow,” I whisper –yet again—but because I don’t think I can talk above a whisper right now.

“That’s amazing,” he says.

“A lady mentioned she saw our billboard,” I tell him, and yes, my voice is still whisper soft.

“She did?” he asks, and his face changes a little… he looks pleased, definitely pleased, but something else too. Something I can’t define, but it looks like…nervousness.

“Do you know what she’s talking about?”

“Hope—”

“You do, don’t you, Aden? You know what the woman was talking about?”

“Hope, I—”

“You rented a billboard, didn’t you?”

He looks like he’s about to deny it and then with a sigh, answers. “Yeah, I went into town two days ago and had it done. Paid extra to have it ready by the weekend, because there’s a big—”

“Antique sale,” I finish for him.

“Yeah. I figured that might get us some customers,” he answers as if what he did wasn’t huge… monumental. Seriously, why does he have to be…nice?

“How? We didn’t have the money and the bank refused to extend me any more credit. How did you do this?”

“I had a ring I found in my stuff in the hotel. It wasn’t doing us any good lying in a box,” he shrugs.

“You sold your ring, to boost our motel for the week?” I ask, not understanding how he could be so selfless.

“Well, no.” he answers, and I blink. “It was a really nice ring, babe.”

“So for the month? Half a year?” I ask, feeling guilty, but almost hopeful too. If we can manage to book like this a little longer I can pay him back with interest.

“A year.”

“You rented a billboard for a year?” I ask completely in shock.

“No. I rented two billboards for a year,” he answers.

Tonight was the night I was talking with Aden and confessing everything. I had pulled pictures from the internet, I had listed out the facts and how this started as an accident that just snowballed. I was scared—to death. I knew that White wasn’t wrong. I was running out of time. I was also pretty sure I was falling in love with Aden and that was something that was bad—really bad—because there was no scenario in which this was going to work out with a happily ever after.

Aden was going to hate me—maybe worse.

And because I knew that was going to happen, and because I knew it was right around the corner, I selfishly wanted as much time as I could with Aden. I needed as much time with him as I could have. I had to have something to see me through the lost and lonely nights without him.

Now…with everything he had done to save this motel and the pains that he took to surprise me with it—or maybe not even tell me at all—I found I was an even more horrible and selfish person than I was before.

Because I wanted one more night with Aden. One more night to hold him, to love him, and to say goodbye to him.

That’s the only excuse I have. It’s not much, but it’s—for once—completely truthful.

“Hope?” he asks as I walk around him, go to the door and lock it. I turn around to face him and then I jump off the edge of the cliff.

“Aden, take me to bed.”