Three years ago…
Rain pelts the windows of the reception area of the inn. I still have a handful of rooms available for the night, but I’m doubtful anyone will be passing through town at this time. Still, I have one reservation pending that I’ve been trying to stay open for. I called the number, but it went straight to a generic voice mailbox.
I finish the dusting, the last cleaning job I have to do for the night, and I look out the window. The town is quiet, as it usually is at this time of night. With the rain, everyone is probably inside.
A set of headlights shine through the window, and I pull away to keep from being seen, as if I’m this person’s mother staying up waiting to make sure they made it home. I position myself behind the counter, pretending I’m doing something on the computer, when I’m really just playing my tenth game of solitaire. It’s a ploy I use often so the guests don’t feel the need to fill in the silence.
The chime on the door rings and the guest steps into the small area. I glance up and instantly force myself to look back down. This man is tall, though I can’t see his face with his hood up. Trails of water run down his jacket, dripping onto the floor.
“I’m so happy you’re still open. I was worried I wouldn’t make it and my phone died.” He holds up his cell phone.
“Good thing you made a reservation. As long as we have you down, we try to wait until you arrive.”
He pushes the hood of his gray rain slicker off his head, and wow… this man is gorgeous. He has a beard that he keeps trimmed close, long hair pulled back in a ponytail, and even with the layers of clothes, it’s clear he’s muscled underneath. “You’re like an angel after what I went through to get here.”
I smile and pretend I’m just now getting him booked in when I actually did it an hour ago. “Did the bridge go out again?”
He shakes his head. “I came from the other way, but from what I heard on the scanner, the sheriff was going to go have a look at it.”
“Are you a police officer?” If he worked with my stepbrother Fisher, I would know about this man.
He laughs, and it echoes through the stillness of the room. Sobering, he responds. “No, but I have to know what’s going on in the area with what I do for a living, so I tend to listen just to make sure I’m not heading in a direction I shouldn’t.”
I type a few more fake keystrokes. “What is it you do? Do you want me to charge the credit card you have on file?”
“Please.” He nods. “I’m a photographer for National Geographic. Technically, I’m just a photographer. They contract me for anything up in Alaska. But I travel all over for my work.”
“That’s an exciting job. Other than those crab fishermen from the reality show, we don’t get people who travel outside of Alaska very often.” I slide his key over the counter, and he nods in thanks.
“It’s not all great. At first when I was younger it was, but it can be lonely too. This last trip, I spent a month in a tent just to get the one shot I wanted.”
“One shot?”
He shrugs his big shoulders. “See. Lonely.”
“What do you do the whole time?”
He picks up his bag. “I take other pictures, but there’s a lot of reading, sleeping. I can’t even get a signal most times.”
“Well, you’re in room two oh six. Get a good night’s sleep and come down for breakfast in the morning.”
He looks around and bites his bottom lip. “Do you happen to have anything I could snack on?”
“You’re hungry?”
He nods, but there’s a pinkness on his cheeks that suggests he’s embarrassed. “My mom would smack me across the back of the head for asking, but it was a long ride down here from up north. The rain slowed me down. I didn’t want to stop because I was afraid you’d be closed by the time I arrived. I’ll take some crackers or something. Whatever’s easiest.”
“Um…”
Usually, I’m very rule oriented. I don’t open the kitchen for late guests because if the other guests get wind of it, they’ll expect the same thing.
“Please,” he says, putting his hands together in a prayer pose.
“Okay, why don’t you go upstairs and get settled? I can cook something up for you quickly. Anything in particular you want?”
“Thanks.” The relieved breath that leaves his mouth says he’s appreciative. “Don’t go to too much trouble. I’m an easy guy.”
“Easy, huh?” One corner of my lips lift in a smirk.