by Shey Stahl
“Just a baby. Mom said I was six months old when they adopted me from Hawaii.”
He nods. “Do you have contact with your birth parents?”
“No, but Mom said they were young. I think my birth mother was fourteen and my father was sixteen. They had no business having me, but they did and tried to make it work until they couldn’t. When I was younger, I went through a stage where I was mad they gave up on me, but now that I’m older, I appreciate it, you know?”
He nods again but gives me no indication if he agrees.
“This stuff smells good.”
Me or the soap? He’s talking about the soap, I gather that much. If it were anyone else, I’d think he was trying to be romantic. But that’s not Caleb.
“Yeah, it does,” I finally say, sighing and feeling as content as a fluffy marshmallow floating in hot chocolate. “Only the best here at the Wellington Plaza Suites.”
He laughs. “I can certainly attest to the staff’s hospitality.”
“That kind of makes me feel slutty,” I tease.
He breathes out, slow and easy, my body rising and falling with the gentle breath. “It shouldn’t.”
“I know . . . how was work?”
He chuckles, probably entertained I’m changing the subject on him. “Rescued a girl yesterday.” He brings his lips to my shoulder, making a slow path to the curve of my neck. “She was just a kid. Maybe thirteen. Ran away from home and was living in a car with some dude. They’d been using a propane heater in the car . . . He died at the scene. She’ll hopefully go home to her parents soon.” His voice is muffled now, mouth and tongue busy against my heated skin.
“I can’t imagine the horrible things you’ve seen.” But I can in a sense because of what we saw the other night with the snow storm. And after his reaction, I’m treading lightly, like walking on glass bottles.
“There’re guys out there who’ve seen worse,” he mumbles, his body tensing again, and he’s quick to change the direction of our conversation. “Why are you sleeping on your friend’s couch and occasionally in my bed with a suite like this at your disposal?” he asks, his lips returning to the side of my neck.
“Because I don’t want my dad’s handouts. He gets enough of that crap with my cousin. And I’m not Paris Hilton. I want to earn what I’m given. Everyone thinks I got this job because I’m his daughter, well, that might be true, but I refuse to let it be true, if that makes sense.”
“It does.”
I turn to face him, and his smirk is so freaking cute. “How’s a guy like you single?”
He laughs, rolling his eyes. “It’s a choice.”
Of course it is.
And then like a switch, the smirk leaves and his expression turns serious, as though what’s coming next needs to be heard. “Don’t fall for me.”
You want to know the shitty part here? He honestly believes I shouldn’t. His words burn inside my heart but not as much as his belief in them.
Well, too fucking late. I think, no, I definitely fell in “like” with him, and now I know what’s coming next.
I laugh it off though and stare at the water. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”
Big fat liar!
“Do you believe in love at first sight?” I blurt out, wanting to slap my hand over my mouth.
I wait.
I want to see what he’s going to say.
His attention shifts to the window overlooking the city. “No. That’s for fairy tales and romance novels.” He waits a beat, still not looking at me, and asks, “Do you?”
Do I?
I’m stalling because I’m not entirely sure how to answer that question myself. Have I ever even been in love? I’m not sure what I had with Judah was love. And with David, sure, I loved him until he licked my goddamn armpit.
“No,” I finally tell him. My nerves jump at my admittance. “I guess maybe I don’t. I think people throw the word around too easily. They want to say it the moment they lay eyes on someone. Like Scarlet, she thinks she loves Shade, but she loves the idea of him. She doesn’t even know the real him to fall in love.”
Caleb nods, understanding exactly that I mean. “Did you love that drummer?”
I laugh. “I don’t think you can love a guy like Judah Prince. And if you do, you’re fucked up.”
His body tenses, and I’m not sure why but I think I’ve said something that’s made him uncomfortable.
“Did you love Jacey?”
Moving my hair to the side and kissing my neck gently, his lips move with the words, “I was a kid. I didn’t know what the fuck loving someone meant or even how to go about it. Still don’t.”
“Do you think had she not cheated on you with Evan, you’d still be together?”
His answer comes immediately. “No. I don’t think so. We’re too different.”
“Did you love Gemma?” Jacey told me about the stripper, but I’d yet to ask Caleb about her. Don’t think I don’t remember that chick either. She’s the one who wanted to rent the room by the hour.
He makes a face, one that’s kind of disgusted and kind of annoyed. Or maybe equal parts of both. “Jesus, Jacey fuckin’ ratted me out on everything, didn’t she?”
I hold up my hand and pinch my thumb and forefinger together. “Little bit.”
Just when I think he’s not going to answer me, he does, and it surprises the hell out of me. “No, I didn’t love Gemma. She was just someone to pass the time with.”
Okay, so like me. Awesome.
My voice shakes when I ask, “Do you ever see yourself falling in love?” I want to punch myself in the mouth for all these stupid questions I’m asking.
He doesn’t look at me. Won’t. “I don’t know.”
My heart deflates. Unsure of what to do next, I return to lying back against him and decide not to ask any more questions about love.
“Have you always been on search and rescue?” I ask after five minutes of silence.
Slowly, he runs his hand over my chest with a bar of soap in his palm. It glides easily, leaving a path of suds in its wake.
The water around me clouds and he inhales, the action moving my chest. “Have you always wanted to run a hotel?”
I raise an eyebrow, twisting my head to look back at him. “Why are you answering my question with a question of your own?”
He shrugs. “Because I’m boring.”
“You’re far from boring, Caleb.” He’s washing me again, and I’m fascinated by the way my body reacts to having his hands on me. I never want to wash myself again. I’ll forever imagine him doing it.
Which could pose a problem if I’m touching myself like this.
“I haven’t always been on search and rescue,” he finally tells me. “I went to college for a year, decided that wasn’t for me, or maybe I was kicked out, I don’t remember.” He laughs, shaking his head against my shoulder, the sound of his laughter shaking me. “After that, I got my EMT certifications and went to the academy. I was a probationary firefighter for a year on an engine up in SoDo, but when I moved over to Station 25, a guy on the truck had just retired, so I got that job.” He sighs and wraps both arms around my shoulders, still kissing me. Contentment for having him this close, opening up to me, makes my heart swell. “I’ve always wanted to be a firefighter. It’s in my blood.” His lips stop moving and his arms tighten. “Maybe that’s why all the men in my family are firefighters. Aside from Kellan. There’s something wrong with him and he went brass.”
I have to laugh at the memory of Kellan finding me stalking Caleb. Not my best day. “I’ve met Kellan. I’d have to agree.”
And then there’s something in the way he asks, “You think I’m crazy for what I do for a living, don’t you?”
He’s remembering my reaction in his truck the other night. I don’t want the conversation heading back there, so I say, “I wanted to be a princess when I was little.”
He lets go of me, his arms resting on the edge of the tub again. “And now you’re making
fun of me.”
I turn to face him and wait for his eyes to meet mine. It takes a second, but when they do, I wink. “I’m being serious.”
His jaw flexes. “Sure you are.”
“I am. I used to pretend this hotel was my castle and someday my prince would come rescue me.”
It takes a minute but the grin returns. “Oh, you mean Judah?”
“Yep.” Raising my hand from the water, I fan myself. “Goddamn did that man sweep me off my feet.”
With very little effort, he scoops me up and I’m straddling him. “And then dumped you right on the king’s lap.” He’s staring at me as if he’s branding my face in his memory, and it seems to frustrate him because he lets go of me completely and runs a restless hand over the back of his neck. “I can’t give you what you’re looking for.”
My heart thuds in my ears. “You don’t know that. I haven’t told you what I’m looking for.”
I’m telling myself not to feel anything for him, begging myself to listen as his lips move to mine. Here’s the thing about falling for someone as quickly as I am for Caleb. You don’t pay attention to anything else around you. I’m clutching him like a stairwell railing, hoping I don’t slip down the steep steps that lead to loving someone like him.
MY PHONE RINGING for the fourth time in a row draws my attention, and I know I need to get it. Anyone who calls four times this early must need something.
We stayed the night in the suite, the sun coming up over the city as we lie in the blue dawn light, lazily talking and him trying to convince me we should talk less and fuck more. His words.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Caleb who’s on his side, his hand between my legs. “I need to check that.”
He let’s go of me but runs his hand down my leg as I’m getting out of the bed and watches me with a smirk. “Stop that,” I say, swatting at his hands.
I scramble across the suite for my phone near the bed and breathlessly answer.
“Mila, I need you now!” It’s Heather and her “need you now” is pretty low on my list of priorities right now. I have no idea how this woman is a manager because it seems to me she can’t handle an emergency situation to save her ass.
“What do you need?”
“You double booked the Evergreen Room, and now we have two parties here for the same room.”
Oh. Mother. Fuck.
I remember booking it for the Port of Seattle last week, but I could have sworn I checked the computer before I made it.
“The Port of Seattle should have the room,” I tell her, reaching for my dress on the floor. “I made the reservation for them, and Reynolds has the Kennydale Room.”
Heather sighs, the raised voices of angry port members surrounding her. “No, you didn’t. Shaw Investments had the room, and you double booked it. You need to get here now and fix this mess. Mr. Wellington is upset.”
A lump the size of a bolder lodges in my throat. “I’m in my office,” I lie, warmth heating my face, and I glance over my shoulder at Caleb. He’s off the bed now, getting dressed. “I’ll be right there.”
Tossing my phone aside, I reach down and grab my heels and bag, kicking away the whip cream bottle as I do so.
Caleb clears his throat. “In trouble?”
“Yeah, I fucked up I think.”
His jaw tightens and he nods. “Because of me?”
He knows I’m lying to him when I say, “No.” It’s not because of him. But my brain is constantly on him, causing me one hell of a distraction. If I’m being honest with myself and everyone else, this has everything to do with Caleb, but I’m not going to make him feel guilty over that. It’s not his fault I attach myself to people like a fucking tick.
Moments later I’m in the lobby, Caleb behind me, and I’m met with Heather, my dad, and Nixon staring at the two of us as we exit the elevator.
I glare at Nixon, wanting to claw his eyes out for even being in this hotel and thinking he can be anywhere near me again after the shit he pulled at the bar.
But it’s not him I’m focused on. It’s my father’s expression tightening the moment he spots me that locks me in place. “Mila, where have you been?”
At first, I don’t say anything. What am I going to do, lie to my father’s face in front of Caleb? No. I won’t. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him otherwise, but I refrain.
When I don’t say anything, my father’s shoulders stiffen, his stern gaze intent on mine. “Milena . . . I asked you a question and I expect an answer. Where have you been?”
Swallowing back the burn in my throat, my words shake. “I was in the penthouse suite with Caleb.”
My father’s silent. His gray eyes snap to Caleb beside me, pinning him. Then it hits him like a slap to his face. His only daughter in the penthouse suite of his hotel with a guy doing God knows what—as far as he’s concerned—though I’m sure a man like him knows.
I hate the disappointment in his eyes. Almost as much as Caleb witnessing this.
It’s certainly not the first time I’ve let him down by my decisions. I was a teenager once.
And then he clears his throat. “Let me get this straight . . . you were in the penthouse suite with this boy and not doing your job?”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” I say to save face, in hope that my father won’t see how affected I am in the presence of Caleb. “I made a mistake, but it’s not like I’m neglecting my job. This can be fixed. This can’t be the first time we’ve double booked the convention center. Maybe they can set in one of the meeting rooms?”
“You’re right. This isn’t the first time we’ve double booked the convention center, but the reason you have the job you have is because the last time someone doubled booked a VIP client of ours, they found themselves looking for new employment.” His eyes of stone clinch mine. “Are you going to step up and fix this incompetent mistake and reassure me this will never happen again or are you going to stand there next to this boy and prove to everyone you really were too inexperienced to handle this job?”
Caleb steps forward, his broad shoulders filling the space beside me, speaking to my father for the first time. “You don’t need to talk to her like she’s a child. I’m sure this can be fixed.”
Caleb’s protectiveness to defend me has my heart swelling in my chest, but I focus on Nixon who makes eye contact with Caleb.
Nixon nods to him, a haughty sharpness to the action. “Don’t you think you should mind your own business?”
Placing my hand on Caleb’s chest, I stand between him and Nixon. I certainly don’t want a repeat of what happened at the bar, here in front of my father. Especially not after a mistake like this.
My father reacts before I can and points at Caleb. “Now you listen here, young man, you will not tell me how to talk to my own daughter like you have any say in her life.” My father takes an intimidating step in Caleb’s direction. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk out of my hotel and never come back here.” And then he turns to me, pointing in my face. “I don’t know if he’s the one responsible for the way you’ve been behaving lately, but it’s been brought to my attention you’ve been slipping on your job. Do you understand what this means? Do you truly get how much money you’re costing the hotel by being negligent about something so important?”
My fists clench and teeth grind at the dig. My head jerks to my father, his intense eyes anchoring me to my place before him. “What do you mean it’s been brought to your attention? Who’s been reporting to you on my performance?”
My father’s glare shifts to Nixon, then back to me. “It’s fairly obvious what’s going on around here. I don’t need anyone to tell me what goes on in my own hotel, but yes, Heather has noted your lack of attention as well as some of our VIP guests.”
VIP guests. He means Nixon. I should have known.
“Seriously, Dad? Nixon tattles on me and you go running to my coworkers to check up on me? I’m not sixteen anymore, and the only reason Nixon is telling y
ou any of this is because I wouldn’t have sex with him.”
“What did you think was going to happen, Mila?” Nixon casually buries his hands in the pockets of his black suit, his gruff voice acid on my skin. “Me telling your father about my concerns for your professional well-being is simply a lifelong friend expressing worry for the choices you’re making. Every time I see you, you’re sneaking into storage closets and your office with him. You’re making choices that are completely irresponsible toward your career.”
“And by choice you mean you? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You’re just mad ’cause I won’t fuck you.” My voice carries through the lobby, louder than I want it to but I’m pissed. How dare he put me in a position like this all because I wouldn’t have sex with him. As much as he’s attempting to deflect that as the reason, I know it’s the reason.
Nixon snorts, dragging his eyes over my body. Beside me, Caleb tenses, his body vibrating with subdued anger. “You have nothing to do with it, Mila,” Nixon says with a sick smile. “I can find better, I assure you.”
Caleb chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as if this is now entertaining to him. “Yeah, sure you can.”
“That’s it.” My father snaps back at Caleb, his voice a blistering warning. “Get out of my hotel right now.”
I open my eyes and slowly slide them toward Caleb, who still has the same expression on his face. He’s waiting for me to defend him, tell my father this has nothing to do with Caleb, but I can’t.
Not knowing what else to do, I step closer to my father with my palms raised. “Look, Dad, I understand I made a huge mistake, and I’m sorry. I swear, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
“Yes, you will. And that starts with him leaving my hotel. You want to be treated with respect in the hotel industry, then you have to demand the respect. No one is going to respect you if you’re taking random men upstairs to the penthouse suite.”
All the blood leaves my face. I can’t look at Caleb. I can’t. And my father is testing me to see if I’ll react to that statement.
