Page 5 of The Holiday Fail

The stranger lunged to grab me, but his attempt only had his hands grasping at the air. A loud thud rang inside the room as pain shot through my backside.

“Are you okay?”

A head popped over the side of the bed to look down at me.

I glared at him. “This is your fault.”

“My fault? How do you figure that?” His pretty brow raised in question. Fuck him and his handsome face.

“If you hadn’t surprised me like that, I wouldn’t have turned around in shock and fell.”

He chuckled, soft and low. A sound that did something to my already confused and hurting body.

The stranger stood and held out a hand for me. “Since I’m at fault, it’s only right I take responsibility.”

Suspiciously, I watched him for a second. Here I was, basically blaming him for all my troubles this morning, and he was laughing it off and trying to help me? Either he had the temperament of a saint, or he was plotting something.

The stranger didn’t look fazed by my glare and only smiled wider. I reluctantly accepted his hand and used it to propel myself to my feet.

“Thanks,” I muttered and rubbed my backside. I hadn’t noticed it earlier, but now my ass was sore, and I really hoped it was from the fall and not anything else.

Then I remembered the entire reason I was here instead of my ownbed and started glaring at the man again.

What kind of person took advantage of a drunk like that? Nobody in our small town for sure, so he was definitely a tourist. Hopefully, he was only passing through and I’d never have to see him again.

Instead of getting all defensive like I thought he would, the man smiled again. The amusement was clear in his eyes, showing me he obviously found this situation hilarious. At least one of us was having a good morning.

“We didn’t sleep together, if that’s why you currently have this puffed-up cat look going for you,” he said.

I gave him awhat-the-fucklook and gestured to the bed we both came—or, in my case,fell—from.

He laughed. “Okay, fine, you got me there. But I promise all we did was sleep. You were too drunk last night to tell me where you lived, so I figured bringing you back here for the night was better than letting you fend for yourself at the pub.”

I eyed him suspiciously, and then bits and pieces of last night started coming back to me through the fog of my hangover.

Yesterday had been rough. The guy I’d been seeing for a month had just broken up with me, claiming it wouldn’t work out since we were in different phases in life. I was still young, and he was ready to settle down and have kids.

Funny how none of that came up when he was fucking me into the mattress an hour before. Nor did he ask what I was looking for, because I was exactly the settling-down type. And while I didn’t see myself having a child so soon, I would consider having one with the right person.

But nope, that ass left before I could even finish getting dressed, leaving me sitting in the hotel room feeling like a used condom.

My friends took me to Dove’s Fountain for some drinks and to lend an ear as I complained about men. They were very understanding and tried their best to console me, but after getting nowhere on the dating scene for years, I was feeling defeated, which only made the liquor go down smoother.

We drank for a couple hours before Austin and Jim had to call it a night, but I’d opted to stay, despite their worried offers to take me home. It was only after I promised not to drink anymore that they finally left me to my own devices.

I hadn’t kept that promise. Especially not after I saw the striking older man enter the bar.

They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new, so that was my plan.

A sexy, older man without a ring on his finger was just my type. He had to be a tourist since I hadn’t seen him around town. And from the appreciative glances I’d seen shot my way, I knew he, at least, found me attractive.

That was what had prompted another shot or two for liquid courage to go up to the man. Maybe I drank a little more than I could handle because the last thing I remembered was striding over to the bar, trying to exude fun, sexy confidence to win him over.

I probably ran my mouth like I usually did when drunk and scared my target away. But that still didn’t explain how I’d ended up with this dude instead of the sexy older man I had my eyes on last night.

“I was sitting next to the silver fox. You sat in his seat after he blew you off, and I didn’t just want to leave you alone like that,” he said, as if he’d seen the question on my face. Which only had me furrowing my brow.

Was I still drunk and speaking out loud without realizing it, or could this guy read minds?

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