I'd have to work up to sleeping in a tent.Give me a soft bed and a plush pillow, please.
The cab stopped near the small house.
"Here ya go," the driver said, leaning forward to peer out the windshield, squinting like he was trying hard to see something.
Someone rushed up to open the back door of the cab, but I couldn't see the person very well. The sun glinted on the windows, obscuring my view. Plus, it was so bright out and I'd left my sunglasses in one of my bags. Which were in the trunk.What a hopeless ditz you are.Maybe I had my spare pair in my purse.
I dug around inside it, hoping to find sunglasses. My hair fell around my face, tickling my cheeks and my nose. I scrunched up my nose, wishing with all my might that I would not sneeze on whoever was standing outside the car.
"Welcome to Au Naturel Naturist Resort," a male voice said.
A hand reached out to me. A hand that had been toasted in the sun, but not so much that the skin looked like leather.
I slung the purse over my shoulder and settled my hand into the stranger's, letting him help him out of the cab. His palm felt warm and soft. I lifted my gaze to his, and my tummy did a silly little flip-flop.
The gentleman holding my hand wasn't a drop-dead gorgeous hunk with enormous muscles, but I liked that he wasn't. He looked like a normal guy, though a uniform disguised his physique somewhat. The blue polo shirt had short sleeves that exposed a good bit of his biceps. This man wasn't ripped or shredded or whatever people liked to call it when a guy had bulging muscles rippled with veins. His physique seemed fit, but in a normal way.
He had the most beautiful face I'd ever seen, though I couldn't see his eyes with the sun glaring on his eyeglasses.
"Thank you," I said. "I'm Mara Severins."
Still holding my hand, the man stared at me. Not in an unsettling way, like the cab driver had. He stared like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Did I have lint on my dress? Or---oh God, please say no---did I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe? I had stopped at the restroom before leaving the airport.
"Is something wrong?" I asked. "Is this the wrong day? Sometimes I do that, I get the dates messed up and show up at the wrong time."
His lips worked for a second before he stammered, "I---whuh---"
A tag pinned to his shirt told me his first name.
I met his concealed gaze. "It's nice to meet you, Oliver.
He blinked several times, then glanced down at his shirt. Rolling his shoulders back, he let go of my hand. "Yes, I'm Oliver Jackson, the assistant manager. You can call me Ollie if you want. Let me get your bags for you."
"Thank you, Oliver." I liked the way his name slid off my tongue as smoothly as warm chocolate sauce.
He gestured to the cab driver. "Open the trunk."
The lid popped up, and Oliver hurried to get my bags. His brows shot up when he looked inside the trunk.
I winced. Yeah, I'd brought too much luggage. Four big suitcases and two smaller ones that held all my makeup and hair stuff, not to mention moisturizer and other necessities.
Oliver hoisted my bags out of the trunk and set them down alongside the driveway. He shut the trunk and the back door of the cab. "Thanks, man. See you next time."
The driver backed the cab up and turned it around, waving as he drove away.
Oliver waved back.
I eyed my luggage. My Prada luggage. Did nature lovers usually arrive with designer bags? Probably not. I also doubted they showed up wearing a designer, body-hugging dress and stilettos.
Such an idiot, Mara.
Oliver picked up two of my large bags, half stifling a grunt. He grimaced, but bravely soldiered on with my overstuffed bags. "Follow me."
I tried to navigate the gravel drive, but my heels kept tripping me up.
"Might be easier if you take off your shoes," Oliver said, slowing down so I could catch up.