flowers. Beyond the fountain sat the main
building, three stories of verandas, pillars, and tall shutters amid palm
trees. Side buildings extended from each end of the imposing building.
As soon as we exited
the car, an entourage of workers swept Reese into the hotel. They took his
computer bag, handed him champagne, and introduced him to managers and a
concierge. Then they rushed him through the double doors and into the lobby.
I was left standing next to the car, listening
to recorded classical music from a speaker somewhere and chirping crickets,
wishing for the façade of my seven-month crush, who had been ruthlessly torn
from me. Plus, I could have really used some bubbly. Specifically, I could have
used a lot of bubbly.
After listening to a
long cricket serenade, I decided to go to the front desk. There was some
confusion, but after the clerk at the counter pounded on his computer keys for
several minutes, he gave me a room key and directions.
My room was amazing.
Decorated in various muted-tan tones and a cream bedspread, it appeared elegant
yet subdued—I think that’s how Jules would have described it. My bags were
already there, sitting in front of the closet. Beyond the sliding glass doors
was a small balcony. Beyond the balcony were palm trees. And beyond those, I heard
the ocean.
I stood there for a
moment listening to the rolling waves. I’d be spending the next week with Reese
Jordon. Never mind that I had no idea where he’d gone. I’d just follow the
itinerary. I let out a sigh into the ocean breeze then strolled back into my
room, shutting the curtains behind me. Inside, I danced around the king-sized
bed.
I was spending the
next week with Reese Jordon!
Chapter 5
Pilates.
At nine a.m.
Yuck.
Pilates. At nine
a.m. with Reese, er…Mr. Jordon.
Yum.
I worked out. Daily.
I usually ran four days a week and cross-trained the other three. I had played
soccer since the age of four—on a traveling team from nine to thirteen, all
four years of high school on varsity, and almost four years of college. The last
year of college had been cut in half by the accident. After the awful car
accident, I’d spent a year in physical therapy, working my ass off to get back
in the shape I was—or as close to it as possible. Exercise and training had
always been part of my life.
But because Pilates
didn’t include shoes and required balance, I hadn’t jumped on the gym craze to
take classes like most people. The accident had left me with one leg slightly
shorter than the other. I always wore a specially made instep in my left shoe.
If it weren’t for the chance of seeing Reese work out, I would be dead set
against this whole thing. Would have claimed being sick or something. Yet the
lure of Reese was too much.
Though I was ten
minutes early, I ran into Reese in front of the spa. I would have been even
earlier, but I’d checked my hair and makeup at least four times. Like me, he
was dressed in tight running shorts and a sports tank. He must work out daily
too because holy hell. He was all solid muscle. The tank stretched across his sculpted
chest and showed off his muscled arms. The shorts hugged his powerful thighs.
All of that paired with his dark hair, a cut jawline, and intense eyes and the
man could have easily modeled for the cover of one of the many romances I
devoured weekly.
While I tried not to
ogle or drool, my hands tingled, itched, and sweated with the urge to touch
him. Fangirl bubbled up inside me again, Snoopy-dancing and letting out
screams. Just being close to him felt surreal.
“Good morning, Ms.
Porter,” he said with a curt nod, his square jaw cutting into the air as he
stepped up to me. “I’m aware we were separated last night. I’ll let it go
today. However, I would like to convene each morning in my suite at exactly
eight to preview the day.”
“Okay, yeah,” I
said, resisting the urge to wipe my hands on my running shorts. “Um…where is
your