Page 6 of (Un)Expected

Shit.I sent out a silent prayer that Javier returned from his lunch break early, that he was the one witnessing me acting like a fool, not a guest. But, as I peeked through my fingers, my stomach dropped.

Standing in front of my desk was one of the most beautiful men I’d seen in my life. I wasn’t exactly short, but this guy towered over me—definitely over six feet tall. A black baseball hat obscured most of his face, and he was wearing a flannel and jeans combination that many of the men in town favored, but even with his casual outfit, it was easy to see this man was inshape.

I straightened up, trying to brush back the hair from my face. Even still, I couldn’t keep from staring at him, taking in as many of his features as possible.

Once my gaze finished appraising his figure, it slid up to his face, and I almost let out a little gasp. It was lit up in a genuine grin, one that made his startling blue eyes crinkle at the edges. Everything about him was chiseled and confident.

“I’m sorry, sir. How can I help you?” I asked, coughing to cover up the way I was blatantly staring. Now that my shock had worn off, he started to look familiar, but I still couldn’t quite place him.

“We checked in today, and I was told you were the person to ask about the town.”

His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, each word caressing a long-ignored part of me. It was smooth, almost unnaturally so, and so familiar, my brows furrowed.

It wasn’t until he removed his hat, though, that it finally clicked, and my stomach dropped to my toes.

No. No, no, no.No.

This couldn’t be my fucking life.

Because the man who watched me have a meltdown behind my desk?

That would be Adam Rice.

The goddamn movie star.

TWO

Adam Rice stood less than two feet from me.

AdamfuckingRice.

How the hell did I not recognize his name earlier? I’d seen his face on almost every tabloid, declaring him one of the biggest stars on the planet. Staring at him now, at his hooded, dark blue eyes and mega-watt grin, I would never forget him again.

There were zero words in my brain; all my tact and grace had flown promptly out the window the moment he opened his mouth.

I thought if I bumped into a movie star, I’d be the cool girl.Oh, that was you?You know the type—the people who hold onto their dignity even though they’re talking to a celebrity.

Nope. Not me. Instead, I was giving complete deer-in-headlights vibes, with a dropped jaw and everything.

His smile faltered slightly as he leaned closer. “Miss, are you all right?”

No, I was not all right. One of the most prominent guests we’d ever had stood less than two feet in front of me, and I’d forgotten how to speak.

A snort came from his side. “Is there someone else we can talk to? I think you broke this one, Rice.”

That broke the stalemate in my brain. I whipped my gaze over, only now noticing the other guy standing at my desk. I sent up a private prayer that he wasn’t another movie star I’d forgotten, but thankfully, unlike Adam, nothing about him seemed familiar.

Now that his hat was gone, Adam's dark blond hair was on display. His long strands were slicked back, but the sides were trimmed shorter. His face was shaved clean, and every single piece of clothing, although casual, seemed like it had been plucked right off a runway. He radiated charisma, the kind that made people turn as soon as he entered a room.

On the other hand, his buddy looked like he’d rolled out of bed after an all-night fight with his wife. Dark circles lined his deep brown eyes, a couple shades darker than his shaggy, unkept chestnut hair. His skin was a naturally tanned olive, more evidence of time outdoors than anything else. Stubble covered the bottom half of his face, the lines uneven, as if he hadn’t shaved in over a week.

A tight smile formed on my face, camouflaging my annoyance. “My apologies. You, uh, caught me at a weak moment.” I turned back to Adam. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Please, call me Adam,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m looking for Alexandria. Would that be you?”

“Yes!” I said, placing my palm in his almost too enthusiastically. Holy hell, his skin was soft. Despite wanting to hold on much longer, I forced my hand back. “That’s me. But I prefer Alex.”

“Alex…” My name sounded smoother on his tongue, like honey flowing slowly from a jar. “I like that.”

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