WREN
The hotel is morelike a resort, and when we enter the lobby, I glance up at the giant wrought-iron chandelier hanging overhead, the heat from the nearby massive stone fireplace immediately warming me up. Outside the snow has already started, the flakes small but abundant, and I wonder what we’ll wake up to tomorrow.
I still can’t believe we’re here. Together.
Alone.
Crew arranged for an SUV to be waiting for us when we arrived at the small airport and I couldn’t stop staring at him as he drove the snowy roads with calm expertise.
Who knew I would find a man driving so sexy? The word sexy wasn’t even part of my vocabulary until a few weeks ago.
But everything he does is undeniably sexy. From the way he takes command of every situation to the smooth sound of his voice as he talks to the hotel employee, who is currently helping him. She’s an older woman with a sharp Vermont accent who seems quite taken with him.
I can’t blame her.
I go and wait by the fireplace while Crew finishes up with the front desk clerk, our bags near my feet. He makes his way toward me, two key cards clutched in his fingers, a faint smile on his face. When he gets closer, he hands one of the keys over to me.
“I upgraded us to the cabin suite,” he says.
“A cabin?” If it’s a log cabin, I will absolutely die of bliss.
“Yeah, it has a living room. A fireplace. Only one bed, though it’s a king.”
Nerves make my stomach flip but I push past the feeling. “That sounds nice.”
“I hope so. Ready to go?”
When I nod, he takes our bags and we go back to the SUV, hopping inside. He drives around the resort, and we end up near the back, close to what I assume is a lake, considering the snow-covered dock I see in the near distance. Once we’re parked and he’s shut off the engine, Crew turns to me.
“Let me go open the door, turn on all the lights, and bring in our bags. Then I’ll come out and get you,” he says.
“Okay.” I watch him climb out of the car, and open the back door. I can hear the sound of the snow pelting his jacket as he pulls our bags out and then he slams the door. He jogs toward the building directly in front of us and unlocks the door, slipping inside.
Lights come on from within, and in minutes, he’s back outside, heading toward the car, opening the passenger side door for me. “Ready?” he asks.
I nod and he takes my hand, shutting the door for me and leading me inside our cabin for the weekend. I like how attentive he is. It’s actually very…
Sweet.
The moment I’m inside, I spin in a slow circle, taking it all in. There’s a gas fireplace that Crew must’ve turned on when he first came in here, giving the space a warm, cozy glow. A stairway leads to what looks like a loft and I glance over at Crew to see him unzipping his duffel and pulling out a couple of liquor bottles he must’ve taken from the plane. “Where’s the bedroom?” I ask him.
“Up there.” He clutches what looks like a bottle of vodka and a bottle of tequila in each hand, nodding toward the stairs. “And there’s a bathroom up there too. Plus, there’s a small bathroom down here. And a kitchenette, though I doubt we’ll be doing much cooking.”
“I don’t even know how,” I admit.
“Me either. We could use some glasses though.” He lifts the bottles in his hands and heads for what I assume is the kitchenette.
“Looking to party?” I call after him.
“Whatever you’re up for, Birdy. I’m game,” he yells back.
I head up the stairs, a little squeak of happiness leaving me when I see the massive bed that takes up most of the space. There’s a giant faux fur blanket draped across the bed and I run my hand over it, marveling at the softness. “It’s so cute up here,” I tell him.
“You want that bed?”
I go to the railing, so I can frown down at Crew. “What are you talking about?”
“The couch folds out into a bed, if you’d rather I take that so you can sleep alone,” he suggests.