by Marika Ray
Time with Amelia.
Working on the hotel would mean at least a week, maybe two, of unfettered access to Amelia all day long. Pretty much my dream come true.
Or straight torture.
Only time would tell.
6
Amelia
A loud bang coming from the room below me had me jolting upright in bed. Big Foot hissed and jumped a foot in the air, landing on the edge of the bed and sliding down to the floor. Poor guy had had a rough few nights of sleep. I wasn’t even sure how old the cat was, but I’m guessing all the scares weren’t good for the dude’s heart health.
We’d gone to bed early, needing the sleep to catch up from all the craziness after the tree fell. A crew had swept through to cut the thing down the next day, and miracle of all miracles, Wayne had signed off on Titus’s bid almost immediately. He wouldn’t tell me what he’d bid, but I feared Titus wouldn’t make any money off this job. Wayne didn’t move quickly unless there was something in it for him. Either way, construction would get started in the morning.
“I can’t handle more excitement,” I muttered, tossing back my covers and sliding on a robe.
You didn’t get to be a seasoned hotel manager without having a few procedures ingrained in your head. I could break up a late-night party in ten seconds flat. Mostly because I discovered an app that would blare out police warnings that sounded remarkably real. Worked every time without me having to confront the usually drunk partygoers. I grabbed my flashlight and cell phone off the nightstand and slid into the flip-flops waiting by the bed in case of emergencies.
The door to the room below me was closed and most likely locked, but I could hear a persistent ringing noise that sounded suspiciously like a cowbell, then what had to be a slap of a hand on flesh. A woman’s voice let out the most pathetic moo I’d ever heard. I rolled my eyes. I thought I’d heard and seen it all after over ten years working in a hotel, but cow role play was a new one.
“Great. Her fetishes have escalated,” I whispered to Big Foot, who’d come with me to see what was going on.
Mentally, I prepared for a long night of tossing, turning, and wishing earplugs actually worked. Big Foot gave the door the stink-eye look he reserved for the most heinous of humans. I shivered, thinking he may have just put a spell on them with a single glance. I didn’t know where the black cat had come from, but he’d showed up one day when I worked here at the hotel in high school and he’d never left.
The woman who’d checked into room five earlier today was a regular. A regular weirdo. She’d stayed with us three times before, and if at all possible, I put her in a room without a neighbor. I never saw her check in with a partner, but weird sex noises always followed her. I could only assume she was meeting up with someone here in Auburn Hill. Which was also weird because she screamed city girl what with her stilettos, overexposed cleavage, and injected lips. Not that I had a problem with any of those—hell, I liked to flaunt the goods on every occasion possible—but the way she carried herself didn’t jive with Hell citizens. Too uptight or trying too hard. I couldn’t think of a single man in Hell who’d be up for a mooing good time with the tall brunette.
I shrugged and walked back to my room with Big Foot right behind me. Nothing I could do about it now. The bright pink foam earplugs I kept on my nightstand combined with the air purifier on full speed next to the head of my bed became the only things that drowned out the ever-increasing volume of the mooing.
The next morning I woke up with an idea…and a headache behind my eyes. When Titus showed up to work on the damaged room, I’d ask him what it would cost to soundproof room five. Seemed like it would make sense to have one room that I knew I could check people into when they seemed like the partiers. I doubted Wayne would go for the extra expense, but it never hurt to ask. Or nag repeatedly. I was an exceptional nagger and I believed in pursuing what you were good at.
As I was coming down the stairs to get coffee set up before our guests started waking, the door to room five cracked open. I froze, and like the tuned-in cat he was, Big Foot froze too, one paw in the air. A man in a suit came out the door, his back to me the whole time. He hustled down the hallway and left through the side door, which should have been locked at this hour.
I frowned, tilting my head as I ran through the scene again in my head. The guy had looked damn familiar. Approximately six feet tall, brown hair with some shots of gray, and a suit. Who the hell wore a suit in Auburn Hill?
Nobody.
Except for Mayor Bennett.
I gasped and Big Foot leaped in the air and tumbled down the remaining steps, meowing at the bottom like he was mad at me. Good thing cats had nine lives. He was using all of them just this week. I had to grab the handrail just to get my wobbly legs down the stairs.
“Holy shit, Big Foot. This is big. Big, big. Like, can’t-tell-a-soul big.” I tilted my head again, sleeplessness forgotten entirely. “Or maybe I can use this.” I lifted an eyebrow and got to making coffee, the wheels of my brain turning at rapid speed. Never waste an opportunity handed to you on a silver platter.
And I’d just been handed a big one.
“What the farming hell happened here?” Titus stood in the doorway, his T-shirt straining across his chest as he leaned an arm against the doorway. A ring of sweat already showed through the fabric from the first few hours of work on the damaged guest room.
Why the hell did men look so good all gross and sweaty? Even his worn tool belt looked fucking hot tied around his waist like that. I put down the garbage bag I held in my gloved hand and straightened to give my back a break. And to check out my best friend.
When had Titus gone from the cute boy next door who’d teach me new skate tricks to hot contractor who could step right onto the Magic Mike stage?
My whole body flushed. My eyes widened and I struggled to act normally. Wow. What was that response about? I must be more tired than I thought to be thinking of Titus like that.
“Old MacDonald is the new sex trend, didn’t you know?” I asked, glad my voice came out normally.
Titus’s face scrunched up and he moved into the room. “Seriously, Lia. What the fuck happened in here? There’s hay on the ground.”
I let out a snort. “Listen. As a manager of a hotel, I try to just clean up the messes and not worry my naive little brain about what goes on behind closed doors.”
Titus kicked a rusted cowbell that rested on the carpet, uncovering a used condom. He let out a strangled noise. The guy better not puke. I had enough shit to clean up.
“Can’t you get housekeeping to clean this up?”
I smiled patiently and picked up the garbage bag. “I could, but those girls aren’t paid enough to deal with something of this nature. I’ll get the big stuff cleaned up and they’ll take over the rest.”
I shoved another bunch of hay into the bag and glanced at Titus behind me. He crossed his arms across that chest of his, looking all kinds of mad.
“Last I checked, you don’t get paid enough for this shit either.”
The idea that had been forming since I caught the man sneaking out of this very room, rushed back with a vengeance. I had to tell someone or I might explode. I wasn’t built for secrets. In some respects I now understood Poppy and her gossiping ways.
I put the bag down again and snapped off the gloves, placing my hands on Titus’s crossed forearms.
“Can you keep a secret, T?” I whispered.
His jaw relaxed and his eyes softened, turning him back into the Titus I was used to.
“Depends. How important is it to you that I keep it a secret?” The side of his lips twitched.
The tall devil was teasing me. Based on the fine points my nipples had drawn into, I liked it. Very much. Interesting. “Super-duper important. In fact, I could get paid a lot more if I play my cards right.”
His eyebrows came together and I wanted to run my finger over them. “I don’t follow.”
I leaned in even closer, too short to wh
isper in his ear. “I think the mayor is having an affair.”
Titus didn’t breathe. Didn’t even blink. He just stared at me for one, two, three long moments. Then his face broke down into a whiny little kid, reminding me of when we first became friends.
“Ah, man. Don’t tell me that! Now I have to keep my mouth shut around Rip.”
I swatted his huge bicep. “Don’t be such a baby. I don’t know for certain, but I’m pretty sure I’m right. Just keep your mouth shut until I can prove it. Then you can decide if you should tell Rip about his dad.”
Titus reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear. “You shouldn’t be trying to prove anything. Let them figure out their sordid affairs. They’re grown adults and don’t need people intruding.”
I grabbed his hand before it went back to his side. “But you don’t get it. If he’s having an affair with this woman, we need to figure out why. He could be doing something shady. Well, besides just cheating on his wife. Mayor Bennett has always seemed shady. Now’s our chance to figure out why.”
Titus sighed and his reluctance to help me on this idea really put a damper on my excitement. “Amelia.” I frowned at his use of my full name. Never a good sign. “I just don’t think getting messed up in other people’s business is a good idea. I care about your safety, and yeah, Mayor Bennett has always been shady, which is exactly why you shouldn’t get involved.”
I stood on tiptoe, getting as much in his face as I could with a man well over six feet tall. “Titus, please. I’m begging you. Help me. I’ll be even safer with you by my side.” I batted my eyelashes, not at all ashamed to flirt my way to what I wanted. If you were given the body parts to influence, why would you be stupid enough not to use them to your advantage?
Titus’s gaze flickered down to my lips and I knew I had him. When his eyes came back up, I could see it in the way he looked at me. Resigned. Excitement filled my chest, knowing he’d help me like he always did.
But then he did something completely unexpected. His hands came up to cup my face, the scrape of his callouses along my cheeks raising goose bumps up and down my back. He held me there for a long moment, just looking at me from an inch away, our breath mingling in a moment turned sharply intimate. The excitement surged into a heart-pumping mix of nerves and lust. I’d been in this position many times before. I knew what it meant and where it was going. I was about to be kissed.
Titus’s blue-gray eyes heated, so familiar and yet looking so different with an answering lust coloring them brighter. Time stopped and all my senses focused on his face and his lips, pulling even closer.
A door slammed down the hall and Titus stepped back, letting his hands fall to his side. Spell broken. I stuttered in a breath, realizing I was dizzy from lack of oxygen. My hand landed on my chest and I could feel it pumping double time. Titus spun around, his fingers gripping the back of his neck.
He walked out of the room, stopping at the doorframe to toss over his shoulder, “I’ll help you, Amelia. I always do.”
And then he was gone, forgetting to take all the tension in the room with him. I mean, he brought it and created it; he should have cleared it when he left. But still it stayed, making it hard for me to breathe. I spun around and nearly tripped over the garbage bag on the floor that I’d forgotten about.
“What. The. Actual. Fuck. Was. That?” I said out loud to the trashed room.
The empty wine bottles, condom wrappers, and straws of hay littering the floor didn’t answer. I looked down at my legs, seeing if they were still attached to my body. Honest to God, I thought I might be floating. Hovering. Levitating. Whatever. Something was incredibly wrong with the neurons and cells and other shit inside my body I didn’t bother to learn about in science class. Had I known about this eminent malfunction of my body, I may have paid more attention.
My cell phone vibrated in my back pocket, making me jump.
“I’m becoming more like Big Foot every day,” I muttered.
I pulled my phone out and saw a text from Hazel. Oh good. I needed to hear from my girls. They’d knock some sense into me and get my head out of the clouds shaped a lot like Titus’s ridiculous mullet.
Hazel: Ladies, I need some taste testers! I’ve decided to start my own baking company. I’ve got a super fun new creation that I want to take to Coffee and see if they’ll sell it, but I need your opinions first.
I cringed and thought about just shoving the phone back in my pocket without answering. Hazel’s baking was notoriously bad. Even the damn seagulls in Hell didn’t peck at her food. When flying Satan spawn don’t want your cookies, you know it’s bad.
Lucy: Sorry, dear. I’m still breastfeeding Roxy and can’t chance odd ingredients giving her an allergic reaction.
“Ha!” I spat to the empty room. I knew for a fact Lucy was trying to wean Roxy off breastfeeding and that girl was healthy as an ox. She just wanted an excuse not to eat Hazel’s food. My thumbs flew over my screen.
Amelia: Hazel, sweetie, I love you, but I think your talents lie elsewhere. You know how your nose is like a superpower sniffing machine? You should use that. You could make a fortune off your nose.
Hazel: Why, thank you! But what can I do with my nose that will pay me the big bucks?
Finnie: Is there such a thing as a nose fetish? Because I’ve seen some weird things shoved up noses in the ER…
Lucy: If there isn’t, there should be. Nostrils come in a wide variety of lovely shapes and sizes.
Lenora: maybe we should include a nostril plug in our next sex toy subscription boxes at the Hardware Store…
Finnie: I see more urgent care visits in my future. Thanks for keeping me in business, Lenora!
Lucy: I know! I bet there’s a photographer out there doing a whole series just on the slope of noses. Hazel, you have the best shaped nose I’ve ever seen on a woman.
Hazel: *blush emoji*
Amelia: What the fuck, you guys? I meant Hazel should get a job where having a good sniffer is a plus, like being a police detective. Or working at a lotion laboratory formulating the various scents. I mean, you know the sniffer at Bath & Body Works had to have made a fortune with that country apple and warm vanilla sugar back in the day. Did you see they’re bringing back the retro ’90s scents again this year?
Lucy: I already preordered the shower gel, lotion, and body spray in country apple.
Lenora: The next subscription box is going out with the warm vanilla massage oil.
Amelia: Again, what the fuck, you guys? Why didn’t y’all tell me??
Lucy: Sorry, lady. I think that all happened when you were still with Douchebag. Speaking of him, are you and Titus friends again? ’Cause I gotta be honest…I’m getting real sick of seeing mopey Titus.
Amelia: What do you mean ‘mopey Titus’?
My heart rate picked up again at the mention of Titus. Which was weird too. Normally I got happy thinking of Titus, but not jumpy and nervous.
Hazel: Good Lord, the man was such a Debbie Downer while you were with Douchebag. He’s been a freaking ray of sunshine the last week or so, though. I’m assuming that’s because you’re back to being Ametus?
Amelia: Sigh….I’m afraid to even ask. What is Ametus?
Lenora: Well, we could have gone with Tilia, but that sounded super weird. Although Ametus is kinda weird too now that I think about it more…
Amelia: Girls. We’re friends. Not a couple. No need to blend our names.
Finnie: I diagnose “more than friends”…
Amelia: You’re not a freaking love doctor, Finnie!
Lucy: I’m not saying you’re a couple either, but I’d bet Bain’s left testicle (and you know how much I love the pair) there’s more-than-friendly tension there. Don’t kill the messenger…
Amelia: Whatever. And Lucy? That’s TMI.
I turned my phone off, shoved it in my back pocket, and got back to cleaning the room with more force than necessary. The text chat with my girls hadn’t done what I hoped it would. It only con
fused things more, because even they were seeing things between Titus and me. Things I didn’t want to admit or even examine.
Titus and I were friends.
Period.
7
Titus
After that almost kiss earlier in the week, I pulled back the flirting as much as I could. Which still wasn’t much because, damn, being around Amelia all day while I worked on the hotel was straight torture. She was everywhere. She was a good manager and Wayne was lucky to have her, but that meant I saw her constantly. She wore pencil skirts that hugged her curvy ass before leaving the rest of her legs bare to my gaze. She mixed it up with pants that also showed off her tight waistline before flaring over the curve of her butt and ended at high heels that made me think of what they’d look like resting on my shoulders.
And then there were the early mornings when I’d catch her still in that black silky robe. One of these days I wasn’t going to be able to tamp down all the hunger that gnawed at me until I couldn’t sleep at night. I’d grab her and tow her to her room for privacy, pull apart the top of her robe to bare her breasts, and then run my hand under the short hem to find her soaking wet for me. I bet she kept things bare down there and I couldn’t. Fucking. Wait.
“Titus?”
I slammed the hammer down on my thumb. “Fuck!” I dropped the hammer and stepped back, gritting my teeth against the pain. Amelia stood in the doorway, her eyes wide. Today was a skirt day.
“Hey, Lia.”
“You okay, tiger? That looked painful. Sorry to startle you.”
She walked in, those heels sinking into the carpet the way I wanted to sink my teeth into the globe of her perfect ass. Pretty sure those kinds of thoughts were not normal to be having for your best friend, but I couldn’t seem to stop them.
