Page 190 of Hell Hath No Fury
Carlos: Tell me about it. Tell me about you.
Ashby: Me?
Carlos: Yes, you…
Ashby: Not much to tell… born and raised in Independence, Oregon…
Settling into the slingback beach chair, Carlos watched as a series of texts popped up, one after the other, rapid fire in their chat. For someone who thought she was boring, Ashby certainly had plenty to say.
And he loved it.
CHAPTER THREE
“Ready to head to your new home, Mickey?” Ashby asked, helping the dog out of the back of the vet clinic’s van.
The black-and-white pup smiled back at her, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. His incisions were almost fully healed, and his energy had returned over the last few days, allowing him to show off his personality. Fun and playful, but a good listener, Mickey seemed like the perfect kind of dog to hang out at a resort, helping out the maintenance staff. Ashby had been more than a little worried when Carlos had volunteered so quickly to keep him, but was relieved when he had told her that his bosses agreed when they were texting this past week.
Leading Mickey into the Indigo Royal’s open-air lobby, a sadness washed over her as she wondered if the return of Mickey meant no more texting with Carlos. Their back and forth had become a daily thing—no, that wasn’t quite right. It had become anall daything, ever since that first puppy face emoji appeared on her screen. She’d come to really enjoy their back and forth, hoping it could continue.
“OMG, look at this little guy!” a cute brunette with corkscrew curls cooed from across the lobby, rushing toward them. It was the same gal who had greeted Ashby when she arrived the other day, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember the woman’s name. “Hi, I’m Drea, we met last week.”
Drea, that’s right…
“Hi, I’m Ashby,” she returned, thankful for this woman’s manners. “And this guy has officially been named Mickey.”
“Now I just need not to sing that song, because I will never get it out of my head. I’ve gotten pretty good over the years at not singing things with all the song titles we have around here, but this one might be too much.”
“Yeah, Carlos clued me in to the eighties theme. Surely, not every building is named after a song.”
“Oh, it is. As is every department in my spa,” Drea said, a bright smile on her face. “Did he not give you a tour?”
Ashby shook her head, trying to figure out how much to reveal. Carlos had mentioned that Drea was one of the owners of the resort, along with her three uncles, making her his boss. She couldn’t think of a reason that their texting would be against the rules, but for some reason it felt like it. Maybe it was just because there had been a flirty undertone to them. Or at least, there was what she had hoped was a flirty undertone to them. Either way, the last thing she wanted was to get him in trouble with the boss.
“Carlos! Give the girl a tour!” Drea called out, her eyes looking behind Ashby.
Spinning around, Ashby had to catch her breath, the sight of Carlos walking toward her sending a jolt through her. Tall, dark, and oh-so-fucking-sexy, Carlos smiled at her, his perfect grin melting her panties right off her. He looked too good for words in his fitted white T-shirt and khaki shorts, like he was walking straight out of a magazine ad. Ashby’s mind flashed straight to what was under the shirt, sure that every inch of him was well defined.
“Hey you,” he greeted, his eyes dancing up and down her body.
“Hi.”
Her pulse sped up, enjoying the feel of his eyes on her. There was something in his expression she couldn’t quite read, but whatever it was, she liked it. No one had ever looked at her quite like Carlos was in this moment. And it felt good—damn good.Ashby was comfortable in her body and proud of who she was. That said, she knew that there were plenty of people who had no problem shaming her for being a bigger girl. Especially men. But not Carlos. He seemed to like what he saw, leaving her feeling all giddy inside.
“Boss lady says I should give you a tour, so, what do you say?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll take Mickey over to the bonfire, so take your time!” Drea said, starting to walk away. “And make sure you show her the spa. Ashby, I owe you a spa day as a thank you for helping with this guy.”
Ashby started to reply, but Drea waved her off, leaving them alone. Sucking in a breath, Ashby reminded herself to stay calm. The bass from a pop song thrummed through her, the flicker of flames from the bonfire off in the distance catching her eye.
“Cherish Spa is through those doors,” Carlos pointed out. “And we’ll get you a menu so you know what they offer and can pick out treatments. Then, over that way,” he continued, twisting to point in the opposite direction, “are Barracuda, Purple Rain, and Black Velvet, the guest room buildings. Past that are the Villas.”
“Those are the beach bungalows named after Madonna songs, yes?” she asked, following him out of the lobby.
“Someone was paying attention.”
“Of course I was. It’s not every day you meet someone who grew up in the Caribbean. I think there is something unique and fun about it. And that you’ve worked here so long. Where I’m from, you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who is still at a job they started at as a teenager.”
