Sylvie cocks her hip out when the desk clerk takes a long moment to look me over before looking back at the woman standing at the counter.
“You said only one occupant.”
“He’s not staying with me.”
I huff a laugh because she can’t be serious.
“I call the cops on domestic disturbances,” the clerk says, handing Sylvie a key.
“You have nothing to worry about,” she assures her before spinning back around and walking past me to the front door like I don’t exist.
I follow her out, popping the trunk as she steps closer to the car.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she snaps when I reach for the strap of my duffel bag.
“Getting our shit,” I mutter.
“I wasn’t joking inside. You’re not staying with me in that room. There’s only a queen bed.”
Ignoring her, I pull out her suitcase, wondering just what in the hell she packed to make it so damned heavy.
“I’m serious,” she growls. Honestly, if she wasn’t a foot shorter than me, I might actually be a little intimidated.
But since I could probably press my palm to her forehead and she wouldn’t even be capable of hitting me, I laugh.
“You need to find some other place tonight.” With force, she pulls the handle of her suitcase from my hand. “The next closest place is in Ouray. It’s over an hour away.”
I glare at her back as she struggles under the weight of her overnight bag and navigating the wheels of her rolling suitcase over the gravel parking lot.
I’d laugh again if I didn’t know she’s being completely serious.
“Make sure to fill the tank back up. See you at eight in the morning,” she tosses over her shoulder just before reentering the bed-and-breakfast.
I’m annoyed beyond measure, but that still doesn’t keep me from thickening in my jeans.
I hate not remembering this chick. With the little fits of attitude I’ve seen from her, I know she had to be a firecracker in bed. Instead of it making me want to keep my distance, I just want to chase after her and create moments I’ll never forget.
Chapter 9
Sylvie
“I’ll have to find pillowcases.”
“I don’t need them right away,” I tell the woman on the phone who seems more than a little put out by my request for additional pillows. “But one flat pillow just isn’t going to cut it.”
“Fine.”
The line goes dead, and I slowly return the handset to the receiver, wondering if that woman is seriously as bad as she seems or if my agitation with today is causing me to see her that way.
I really need to find something to eat, but I just don’t have the energy for it as I strip out of my clothes and pull on an old band t-shirt.
Although I do my best to shove the thoughts away, the potential of Spade being here this weekend still manages to seep inside my mind.
I never would’ve insisted he found some other place to stay if things were different. If I was at least worthy of his memory, I would’ve smiled when he claimed he was staying with me in this room.
Only one bed? Whatever will we do to make that work?
I scoff at the ridiculous route my head is taking.