Page 13 of Double Booked

I rolled my eyes again and ignored him, setting down my phone. I had to get packing apparently. A small tendril of panic swirled in my gut but I ignored it. I was tired of my lonely apartment and even lonelier romantic life. I might not be able to keep Colton forever but I could enjoy the moment right now.

CHAPTER 8

RILEY

Kentucky was much prettier than I expected. I had expected more trees but instead pretty green rolling hills flew by my window as I drove down the freeway.

My flight this morning was smooth and I picked up my rental car without a hitch. Now I was driving to Oakville and admiring the scenery. As I got closer to Lexington, horses began filling the fields along the highway. I had never seen so many but that made sense as Lexington was the horse capital of the world like they liked to call themselves. About two hours later, I was pulling off the freeway and following the signs to Oakville. The clock on the car’s dashboard said 4:30. I hoped Colton was still at the office. If not, I suppose I could call him but I wanted to see the look on his face when I surprised him.

I tossed and turned most of last night, worrying I hadn’t made the right decision and worrying about all the what-ifs. What if Colton wasn’t excited to see me? What if it wasn’t the same as it was on the island? What if we should have kept it on the island?

The doubts were still there in the back of my mind but I was trying to keep them there. Colton had given no indication he would be anything less than thrilled to see me if I surprised him. We had promised to keep talking and that included sharing our doubts and fears and he hadn’t expressed any to me. I probably needed to work on expressing mine to him but most of mine came from deep-seated insecurities that I needed to work on and didn’t need to burden him with those just yet.

Oakville’s downtown was charming, a single street with two stoplights and a healthy number of businesses lining either side of the street. There was a cafe on the corner, a clothing boutique, a diner, and several others. It practically oozed with small town charm and it felt like everyone’s eyes were on my car as I drove by. The Twin Cities were technically composed of two cities, Minneapolis and St. Paul but I lived on the Minneapolis side. Combined, they made up one large city and had been my home since I graduated college but before that I had grown up in the suburbs. Some of my books took place in small towns so I had visited a few in Minnesota but there was a different kind of charm here in Oakville.

I turned down a side street, following the direction coming from my phone and my breath caught in my throat. “Anderson & Sons Construction” was written in bright red letters on the white siding of an older looking building. The parking lot out back where I knew they parked their trucks seemed empty so hopefully their day wasn’t done yet. I pulled my rental car into a spot parked out front and grabbed my bag. The heavy weight of my laptop was a comfort as I climbed the wooden steps and pushed open the door marked “Office.”

The office area was small, with three chairs along the wall to my right underneath the window. There was a hallway in the back right corner that had several doors that must be additional offices or meeting rooms. In front of me, the receptionist sat at her desk, an open door behind her showing a large break room with a kitchenette against the back wall next to a door that must lead to the outside.

The receptionist looked up when I entered. She was wearing a light pink sweater with matching pink nails and had long blond hair that fell in perfect curls around her shoulder. I had a brief moment of discomfort about my own appearance. I was wearing my favorite emerald green travel pants that were a silky material that were super comfortable and a soft gray sweater that was definitely picked for comfort over style. I had checked my appearance in the airport bathroom when I arrived but I was sure I looked like I had just traveled the entire day versus the polished appearance of the receptionist. She looked at me, her eyes traveling up and down my body before she pursed her lips.

“Can I help you?” She asked in a tone that could only be described as haughty. She twirled a blond curl between her pink fingernails as she waited impatiently for my answer. I couldn’t remember the last time I had painted my nails.

“Yes, I’m here to see Colton,” I smiled at her, fully aware it did not reach my eyes but hoping the friendliness would soften her.

The receptionist sniffed. “He’s on site right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

“That’s okay, I can wait,” I said, gesturing towards the chairs. I had my laptop with me so I could get some words in while I waited.

“Do you have an appointment?” The receptionist asked, her pink lips curling.

“No…” I said, knowing that wouldn’t be a sufficient answer for her. I smiled. “I’m here to talk to him about building a bamboo house.”

The receptionist furrowed her brows. “I think you’ve made a mistake. We don’t do that here.”

“I’ve talked to Colton about it before so I’ll wait.”

I turned my back on her to make my way over to a chair before she could say anything else. There was something about her that had my gut on high alert. It could be her bitchy attitude but that also could make her a good receptionist if she thought I was wasting their time. Taking a seat, I could feel her eyes on me as I slid my laptop out of my bag and started working. After a few minutes, I could hear her start typing again and I relaxed.

My character was headed to a medical office to get more information on the victims’ medical records and I bit my lip to contain my smile as I wrote about my character’s encounter with a bitchy receptionist. Be careful what you say or do around a writer, we might just write you into our next story.

I was writing for about a half hour when I heard the back door open and the loud voices of men talking and laughing trickled through the open door to the waiting area. I looked up at the receptionist and caught her eyes, arching my eyebrows expectantly. The receptionist rolled her eyes at me but got up and went to the door. I slid my laptop into my bag as I waited, wiping my suddenly sweaty palms on my pants.

“Colton,” the receptionist said, leaning against the door and showing off her slim figure in her painted on jeans. “There’s some woman here to see you. She says she talked to you about a bamboo house.”

“Did you say a bamboo house?” I heard Colton’s voice boom from the back and the rest of the voices fell silent. My breath caught in my throat at the sound of his voice. It didn’t matter that we had just talked last night. There was something about this man that had my spine straightening in anticipation of seeing him again.

The receptionist nodded. “I told her we didn’t do that but she insisted on waiting.”

Quick footsteps slapped across the linoleum tile floor and there he was. Wearing dark jeans and a gray t-shirt with a company logo on it, his broad frame filled the doors as his hazel eyes locked on mine. “Riley,” he breathed, his eyes wide like he couldn’t believe I was there.

I stood up, smoothing my sweaty palms down my pants again. “Surprise,” I said weakly, doing jazz hands like an idiot.

Three steps and I was in his arms. I melted into him as he twirled me in a circle, burying his face in my hair as I nestled under his chin. “How… what… how?”

I pulled back so I could see his face. “You said you weren’t doing anything this weekend and I can work from anywhere so I wanted to surprise you. I booked tickets last night after we talked. I should have probably let you know I was coming,” I rambled on, nervous about his reaction still. His grin was so wide it might have split his face as he cupped my face with both hands.

“Best surprise ever,” he breathed against my lips before kissing me.

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