Chapter 3
Olivia
With the hotel key in my hand, I drug my bags up three flights of stairs to my room. It was the kind of hotel with only outside entrances to the rooms. My mother always turned her nose up at places like this, and I didn’t blame her. I felt exposed as I stuck the key in the door and pushed it open. I stepped inside and tossed my bags on the bed, quickly locking the door behind me.
As I looked around the room, I forced myself to see the bright side. The room was big and spacious. It looked clean and not too run down. I smiled to myself when I made it to the bathroom and found it stain free. The scent of cleaning surprised hit my nose. My first impression of this hotel was bad, but now I was simply grateful to have a place to sleep for the next few nights.
I sighed and fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Brad. He seemed nice enough, but there was something about him that made my stomach churn with discomfort. His body language was tense and distant as if he was constantly thinking something he didn’t say. I knew my parents would flip out if they knew I was going to dinner with a man I only just met. It wasn’t my typical behavior, but I was intrigued by Brad Jones, more intrigued than I’d be by anyone in a long time.
Plus, it couldn’t hurt to be in his good graces. On Monday morning, he would look at my car and give me an estimate. His estimate might be more lenient if we spent some time together and he got to know me a little bit. Sighing again, I pushed myself up to change for dinner. I’d been wearing this same outfit for almost two days, and I felt disgusting.
I popped in the shower, washing everything but my hair, and then hurried back to the bedroom where I got dressed and slid on my shoes. Brad said he’d be back in an hour and I didn’t want to keep him waiting. With my purse in hand, I slipped out of the room and hurried down stairs to wait in the parking lot.
Out there, I felt even more exposed. I wrapped my arms around my body and shivered. The night air was cooling off fast, and I realized I should have brought a sweater. Glancing around, I didn’t see Brad’s truck anywhere in the parking lot. I thought about running upstairs to grab a jacket when I heard a loud engine rumbling from my right. I turned to see the familiar tow truck pulling up, Brad’s arm dangling out of the driver’s side window.
When I saw him, I smiled. I didn’t know why, but the sight of him filled me with warmth. Part of me had been wondering if he was going to show up at all. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he blew me off. We only just met and it was a Friday night, after all. Still, seeing his familiar face in the midst of all this craziness made me relax. As I climbed up in his truck, he smiled at me kindly, and I was immediately taken aback by his appearance.
Gone were the tatters and grease stains. The shirt he wore was a button up that fit him just right. His jeans were spotless and dark in color. I smiled wider when my eyes fell once again on his face. He’s obviously taken a shower. I could smell the scent of his soap the second I opened the truck door. It was intoxicating but not more so than the sight of his clean face smiling at me, those blue eyes boring a hole in me.
“Hello again,” he said.
“Hi,” I said, my voice weak. “Thanks again for doing this.”
“Of course,” he said with a shrug. “What was I going to do, let you starve?”
“I wouldn’t starve.” I laugh. “I’ve been fending for myself for a while now.”
“Yes, but you’re without a car.” He reminded me.
I sighed. “I know. That pretty much sucks.”
He laughed, and the sound was like tingling metal. It filled my ears and brought yet another smile to my face. I never expected a man as rough and strong as Brad to have such a gentle, alluring laugh.
We left the hotel parking lot, and Brad drove us toward town. I expected to stop at one of the diners we passed, but he kept driving until we were almost to Santa Fe. Frowning, my New Yorker instincts kicked into overdrive. Suddenly, I regretted my decision. Just because Brad was my mechanic and incredibly attractive, I decided to go to dinner with him? What if he was a psycho killer? What was I thinking?
I could already hear my mom’s voice in my head: “Olivia Linette Storm, what are you doing? Did I not teach you better than that? You’re going to killed, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. You made this mess, now lie in it.”
Just when my imagination was getting the best of me, Brad flicked on his blinker and pulled into a parking lot. The restaurant he chose was much nicer than anything I expected. He said it was his treat, but I’d secretly assumed I would pay for myself. This place was clearly out of my price range.
“Um…” I said nervously, glancing up at the dark building with a worried look in my eyes. “I don’t think I can afford this place.”
“I told you, it’s on me,” Brad said simply.
“I know, but…” He was already shaking his head.
“Look,” he said. “I feel bad that you’re stuck here all alone without a working car until Monday at the earliest.”
“So this is a pity dinner?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“Exactly.” He grinned to let me know he was joking. I laughed and shook my head.
“Fine,” I said. “If you insist.”
“I do,” he said.
“Just so you know,” I said, climbing out of the truck and following him toward the front doors. “I would have been happy with McDonald’s.”
“You are not how you seem,” Brad said thoughtfully.
“How so?” I asked.
“I just figured you would be…” he trailed off, waving his hand and searching for the right words.
“High maintenance?” I asked.
“Well, yeah.” He nodded.
I laughed. “Then I guess, no, I’m not at all how I seem.”
Brad looked at me with a mixture of surprise and admiration as he held open the door for me. I stepped inside, and we walked together to the hostess stand. She smiled and welcomed up kindly, quickly leading us to a table for two at the back of the restaurant.
We sat down, and while the place wasn’t five-star, it definitely wasn’t casual. My discomfort quickly faded as Brad and I fell into an easy conversation. We steered clear of anything serious, sticking only to the superficial things about ourselves. It wasn’t how I normally did things. When I dated I liked to dive right into the good stuff. To me, that was the best way to get know a person.
With Brad, I felt differently. He wasn’t someone I planned to date. Our connection was obvious and instant. His body called out to me in a way no one else ever had and those eyes… God, I could have stared at his eyes for hours without once growing bored. When our feet accidentally brushed each other beneath the table, I felt a shot of electricity run up my body. From the look in his eyes, he felt it too.
We obviously found each other attractive. The entire night I caught myself gazing at his muscular physique, and occasionally his eyes traveled to my breasts. He would clear his throat, his face flushed slightly and then look away quickly. I could feel the heat between us beginning to rise, and by the time we were served dessert, I was ready to have him for my next meal.
My heart was pounding in my chest as I slipped my foot closer to his. This time, when we touched, I didn’t pull away, and neither did he. Our feet touched gently, and our eyes met. Sparks flew between us and in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to get this man back to my hotel room.
The logical part of my brain told me to control myself. I didn’t know this man. After my Jeep was fixed, I would probably never see him again. Still, as our eyes stayed lock on each other, desire formed in my stomach. It burned red hot, working its way down to pool between my thighs.
I swallowed hard and kept staring at him. We tried to keep talking, but neither of us had the energy. Our focus was on each other, our bodies, our needs.
It wasn’t like me to sleep with a man I didn’t know but what was the harm? Wasn’t everyone entitled to a one-night stand? To a night of abandon, a night full of nothing more than animalistic desire?