Page 71 of House of Desire

She links her arms with both of us and we all traipse through the resort to the front desk. I was worried I’d feel like an outsider at such an intimate affair, but everyone has been so phenomenal at including me. Especially Charlie.

A waterfall is in the middle of the open-air reception, the sound tranquil. Palm trees dance in the slight breeze and music from a luau carries through the night air. All the receptionists are in cream-colored flower shirts and the women have their hair pinned back on one side, a flower tucked behind their ears.

“Hello. How may I help you?” one says, her teeth perfectly white and even in her perfectly placid smile.

“Hi, my name is Charlie. I’m the bride for the Price/King wedding. We have a bit of a situation with an extra guest showing up and we need to play musical rooms just a bit. Do you have any rooms available we could rent for the weekend?” the beautiful redhead asks, her voice and body pulling the attention of the male receptionists.

“Unfortunately, we are all booked up this weekend with four different weddings and various other groups. We would be happy to arrange other accommodation on the island on your guest’s behalf if that is something they would prefer?” the woman says, her sanguine smile not budging an inch.

“No, that’s alright. We want our family to all be here together. Thank you, anyway.”

We all move off to the side so other guests can be assisted and huddle in a small circle.

“Okay, what are the options. I’m trying to think if anyone booked a two-bed room that maybe we could move around,” Charlie says, tapping her finger to his lips.

“I don’t want to inconvenience anyone. I wasn’t supposed to be here, anyway. I can go to the other hotel, hang out, and then meet up to go back home. I really don’t mind.”

“No, absolutely not,” Charlie says, her tone stubborn.

“There’s always Tank’s cot idea,” Lorelei says.

“Parker,” Charlie says.

I hesitate. Charlie’s words from earlier run through my head and I realize how perfect of an opportunity it would be if we could have some privacy to talk.

“If you don’t think he’ll mind…” I say, trailing off. Part of me wants to still go to the other hotel, but the thought of being able to talk, to finally get past this, is too attractive.

“He wouldn’t mind.” She pulls out her phone and taps in a number before holding it up to her ear. I don’t know if I’m more impressed she actually has someone’s phone number memorized in this day and age or if I’m mortified that I’m basically forcing myself on him. She makes a noise of annoyance as I hear his voice mail click in, her call unanswered.

“Damn Viking. I’ll text him. In the meantime, let’s go get your stuff.”

Like a puppy, I follow them back to our room, Charlie tapping away on her phone.

“Any luck?” Tank asks from our couch, his leg propped up on the coffee table.

“No. I’m going to have her room with Parker,” Charlie says, not taking her eyes from her phone.

Tank snorts a laugh and mumbles something I think sounds like “This should be interesting” but I’m not sure. I make my way to my luggage and begin repacking all of my clothes and toiletries. One thing Mom taught me growing up was to never leave a suitcase packed when you get to your destination. That causes wrinkles and just delays your ability to get dressed and move on to the fun part of the day.

As I pull the zipper around, Charlie moves to me and hands me a key.

“He’s in one of the small villas over on the ocean side. Room 1217. Do you need me to show you?”

“No, I know where those are. You’re sure he’ll be good with it?”

“Trust me, he’d be offended if we didn’t let him help when he’s in the position to do so.” She opens the door for me.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow, then. Have a good night.”

“You too! And tell Parker to call me in the morning when he’s awake.”

“Will do,” I say.

I make my way through the resort, pulling my suitcase behind me, following the signs to the villas, until I find his room. Knocking to warn him I’m coming in, I insert my key and push through the door. The first thing I notice is the sound of the waves crashing against the shore through the open wall. Floor to ceiling glass panels are pushed over the left. Two chairs are out on the lanai for relaxing during the day. A sumptuous couch faces a blank wall except for a console table that, if I had to guess, holds the TV. Moving toward the living room, I pass a partially open door.

The sound of grunts meet my ears.

“Hello,” I call out, but no one responds. “Parker?” Wondering if I’m somehow in the wrong room, I push open the door, and come face to face with Parker’s naked, beautiful ass.

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