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They will go online and fill out a questionnaire about what they like, what they don’t. Then we’ll use it to make their stay personal and comfortable.”
    He was listening, seemingly interested. Which surprised her. A little. But she was already beginning to think there was more to Doug Miller than his dirty tennis shoes and unruly hair.
    But she didn’t want there to be more to him. He was a weekend date, a fling. She needed to concentrate on the Cheetos thing.
    “For instance,” she went on. “If someone likes lemon cake and not chocolate, then lemon cake will be offered with their first meal. Their favorite scent will be infused in their room, their bedding will be their favorite color, their favorite flowers will be on the table when they first enter their condo, their favorite movies will be offered on pay per view.”
    He was staring at her.
    She tucked her hair behind her ear. “What?”
    “You’re going to need a ton of staff. And inventory.”
    She stared back. He was right. But most people wouldn’t think of that. Her sister had said Damn, I want to go .
    “Yes,” she said. “But it will be worth it.”
    “What if the husband likes blue and the wife likes purple?”
    She smiled. “I’ll find a comforter with both blue and purple in it.”
    “So you’ll also need a full-time shopper. Or fifteen.”
    “Dream job for someone, don’t you think?” She crossed her legs and sat back. Britton already liked the idea.
    “Think of the food inventory if everyone wants something different all the time.”
    “Think of the guests who will sign up to stay.”
    Finally he gave her a slow grin. “I want red sheets, don’t care about the flowers, but I need beef jerky, Pringles and blue Gatorade. And I’d love for the whole place to smell like chocolate chip cookies.”
    She couldn’t help but smile back even as she shook her head. “You want race cars or fire trucks on those red sheets?”
    His eyes widened. “Race cars are an option?”
    “A twelve-year-old boy would ask for the same things.”
    “Twelve-year-old boys know how to have fun.”
    “Is that why you’ve decided to just essentially be twelve years old forever?” He exuded that little-boy-in-a-man’s-body vibe.
    He leaned in. “Being twelve was awesome. The biggest thing I had to worry about was whether my allowance was going to cover the candy bars and video games I wanted to buy. I’d be twelve forever if I could. Except, of course, for the sex thing.”
    She tried not to let it show how her breath hitched. Lord, the man only had to say “sex” and she reacted. “Twelve-year-old boys like breasts too.”
    “Yeah, but they don’t know what to do with them.”
    But he did.
    The rest of the statement hung unspoken but obvious between them.
    Trying to distract them both she said, “You’re telling me this because you want a free night’s stay for coming along and helping me?”
    “Definitely not,” he said, sitting back.
    “No?” She totally intended to give him some free time at the resort. But he didn’t have to know that.
    “I want two weeks. And I think I’ll change my favorite color to black and white stripes for week two.”
    “Two weeks?” she asked. “That seems like a lot.”
    “How about I promise I’ll earn it?”
    His voice didn’t change, his expression didn’t change, but that sounded decidedly sexy.
    She finally nodded. “You’ll have to.”
    He reached out and grabbed a magazine from the rack on the wall. “I’m not worried.”
    Um, yeah, he had nothing to worry about if the elevator and airplane seat were anything to go by. It gave her hot flashes to think what the guy might do with an actual bed.
    They’d have an actual bed in less than an hour.
    She fanned herself and looked out the window. Neither helped.
    He flipped through several pages of Money magazine.
    “I don’t normally have one-night stands,” she heard herself say.
    “I know.” He didn’t even look at her. He grabbed another