Page 14 of More Than Words

Before I could comment further, she was out the passenger door, briskly walking toward the back of the car with one hand holding her sweater closed at the neck. The further north we’d traveled, the more the temperature had dropped, the breeze from the water carrying a chill. I hoped she’d packed a jacket because it seemed like a loss to spend the entire weekend indoors.

While Hutch and I typically stayed a little more inland in our explorations, we’d driven up to the Acadia National Park to hike quite a bit as teenagers during the off-season. We’d both tossed around the idea of hiking the Appalachian trail someday, but with his leg being like it was, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to do the whole thing and rough it on the trail. But maybe we could take the time to complete part of it. With forty-one rapidly approaching, it wasn’t like we could wait forever. I was already starting to feel my age sometimes.

The trunk slammed, pulling me out of my wandering thoughts and back to the confusing woman I worked with, watching her figure pass through the hotel’s front doors. I knew we’d have to spend the five-hour car trip home with each other, but I wondered if this was the last I’d see of her the next four days except in passing.

Pulling into a spot in the corner of the parking lot, I shifted the car into park and scrubbed my hand over my jaw, trying to clear my head. Sloane had texted me late last night that the conference organizers had wanted to put me in a slot to speak during a workshop, one of the other presenters having to miss the conference at the last minute.

I confirmed I’d do it, but now I was second-guessing myself, not wanting to take the opportunity away from Isobel if she’d wished for it. I’d spoken at things like these a few times and had a vague idea of what I could talk about, but I knew Isobel felt like her genre was often overlooked at general industry events.

Rumor had it that she was typically a big hit at romance writing events, but this wasn’t a conference geared toward romance writers and editors; this was a group of our peers from every genre. I still remembered being in awe of the presenters and speakers at the first few conferences I’d attended before working at Vivid, wondering if I’d ever get to that point in my career.

Isobel was nowhere to be found when I entered the building, joining the line at the reception desk to get checked in. Part of me wished this was being held at one of the larger hotel chains because I had reward member status at most of them and never had to wait in lines because of how much I typically traveled, but I had to admit, this local resort was beautiful. And the water views couldn’t be replicated at some generic box hotel chain.

Growing up close to the ocean had always been something I’d taken for granted, but with my travel all over the country, I’d still come back to New England in a heartbeat. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. The food, the people—despite some being dicks—and the views couldn’t be found anywhere else.

When I was younger, I would have looked for any viable reason to get outta Southie, but even that changed as time passed. I thought baseball would always be my dream, but sometimes priorities change when entering the real world.

My single season riding the bench in the majors and the few brutal seasons in the minors before that pushed me to finish my graduate degree and start focusing on my career like I should have been doing. It’d been a no-brainer to retire when my grandma was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Sometimes we have to let go of childish dreams and come to terms with reality. Maybe that was why I’d clung so hard to the hardened exterior I showed everyone else.

“Your colleague has already checked in,” the woman at the reception desk said after I handed her my ID and my corporate credit card. “But like I told her, your rooms are adjoining, so you’ll be near each other.”

Well, that changed things. Maybe Isobel wouldn’t be able to avoid me so easily after all. We’d be passing each other in the hallway. Our schedules were supposed to be similar, except for the few sessions Sloane wanted us to attend that were scheduled simultaneously.

The elevator ride to our floor was quiet, my mind whirring with fantasies I knew would never play out. One, in particular, was of me throwing open those adjoining doors and letting this budding attraction play out. She would never admit it, but I’d seen lingering glances on her end. Her hatred may have been the more prevalent of her feelings for me, but there was attraction there too.

As I walked down the hallway toward my room, the door next to mine slipped open, Isobel not noticing my arrival while she stared down at the phone in her hand.

“Guess you couldn’t escape me after all.”

Her shoulders stiffened when she heard my voice, her eyes slowly rising to meet mine. “Guess not. Lucky me.”

As she tried to step past me, my hand shot out, halting her forward movement as my fingers brushed the sleeve of her coat. “Where’re you off to?”

She hesitated, toying with the zipper as I scanned her face. Her sensible skirt and ballet flats had been swapped out for some joggers and what appeared to be trail running shoes. “Going for a little hike. The concierge said there is a trailhead not far from here. Wanted to work off some energy before dinner since the weather is so nice.”

“Want some company?” I asked, and she paused as she took in my outfit. While it wouldn’t be ideal, my pants were loose enough that I could handle a little hike if I put on my trail sneakers. I’d also planned to sneak off during our stay here to explore the local trails, but I couldn’t deny the company would make it exponentially better. “Unless you don’t think you can keep up. The trails around here aren’t always for beginners.”

Her eyes narrowed, her face morphing into one of annoyance as she took the bait I’d placed in her path. “I think I can keep up fine with you.”

Biting my lip, I tried to conceal my amusement at the competitiveness in her voice. “Didn’t say you couldn’t. Not everything needs to be a competition.”

“You’ve got ten minutes, and then I’m leaving without you. Hopefully, you can get your primping in that quickly.”

“I’m sure I can manage,” I chuckled, reaching over to swipe my key card across the reader on my door. “I’m not as high maintenance as some people.”

A cute little growl sounded from her throat at my dig, and she stepped around me, not turning around while I watched her disappear toward the elevator. She was so easy to wind up. “Go change your damn clothes. The clock is ticking.”

Tossing my luggage on the large king-sized bed, I unzipped it, pulling out the little zipper bag that held my shoes. Yes, even my suitcase was packed using storage cubes. Organization tripped my trigger. I couldn’t help it, and it made packing and unpacking easier. When you spent half your year in hotels, you tired of digging through a messy suitcase.

Isobel was pacing off to the side of the parking lot when I walked out the front entrance to the building, her mouth moving like she was muttering to herself while she stared at the phone in her hand. Hopefully, she’d disconnect for a while and attempt to enjoy the beautiful scenery of this part of coastal Maine.

The water was calm today, the surface gently rippling and dotted with thick patches of ice. The seasonal thaw would begin in a few weeks from now, and everything would bloom when spring set in.

“Did you bring water?” I asked as I flipped one of the bottles in my hand, catching it in my palm easily after the first rotation.

“It’s not a very long hike,” she scoffed, finally looking up at me before tucking her phone into her vest pocket and zipping it shut.

“Guess it’s a good thing I grabbed two from the front desk,” I smiled, extending the one I’d been tossing in her direction. “You should never go hiking without fresh water.”

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