Page 20 of Room 810

“What?” The bus swerved a little as Miguel shot me a look. “But what about home? When do you go home?”

“Never,” I said, the word hitting harder than I’d expected. “I don’t really have a home.”

Toby made a little murmur and placed his hand over mine on my bag. “That’s so sad,” he said, squeezing my fingers. “Everyone should have a place to call home.” He reluctantly pulled his hand back, and I felt cold at the loss of his touch.

Too soon, the airport came into view, a cargo plane waiting on the tarmac. “My ride?” I asked.

“Yep. Sorry it’s not first class, but it’s the best I could do for now.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s perfect,” I told him. Miguel pulled up as close as he could and cranked the door open for me.

I walked down the stairs, feeling Toby’s presence behind me. He followed me to where the plane’s crew was waiting. I turned and looked at him, taking in every detail. “Thank you, for everything,” I whispered for only him to hear.

His mouth flattened in a hard line. “For nearly killing you, you mean?” he snarked.

I snagged his hand. “No. Thank you for giving me a little bit of peace from my demons.” Toby took a shuddering breath, his eyes taking on a sheen of tears. I pulled out my wallet and fished out a business card. “Here. My cell number is on there. You know, just in case, if you can get a signal.”

“Sure,” he said, staring down at the card, tracing the edges with his finger. He chuckled a little. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. I promise your next trip out, we’ll finally get you that massage.”

“Oh. I… I actually never stay at the same place twice. It’s my rule. My blog is about first impressions, and there’s a whole world of hotels and resorts out there.”

“Oh…” We stared at each other for a long moment, and one of the plane’s crew called me aboard.

“I guess I’d better—” I began, but Toby grabbed my wrinkled tie and dragged me in for a final kiss, his tongue invading my mouth. Before I could bring my hands up to wrap around him, he’d already let go.

“So long, Gabe. Thanks for all the memories.” He gave me one last saucy wink, blew a kiss, then faced forward and walked away, his hips swaying in those tight shorts, his robe billowing behind him in the breeze.

The cargo plane wasn’t built for comfort, but I didn’t mind. The engine was loud, the seat was hard, but my mind was elsewhere. I didn’t bother with the antibacterial wipes or my travel pillow. Instead, as the plane soared over the ocean back toward Florida, I pulled out my laptop and got to work. I really needed to get that review for The Scarlet Hotel written, but instead, I found my brain—and maybe my heart—couldn’t quite let go of Paradise Isle, so that was the review I wrote first.

I talked about the amazing food, the warm blue ocean and sandy beaches, soft beds, fresh air, and the outstanding service. Surfing and dancing and bonfires, and yes, even the local beverages, guaranteed to help you relax. In the final paragraph, I mentioned the storm and how everyone worked together to stay safe and clean up afterward.I highly recommend: 5 stars.

Soon, the plane was landing in Miami, and as I powered on my phone and it connected with a signal, it exploded with pings from incoming emails and texts, several days’ worth. I was struck by an immediate need to sort them by level of importance, but instead of checking on my reservation at the hotel in Italy, which should’ve been first priority, my eyes were drawn straight to a text from an unknown number.

It said simply: “Hey, Gabe, I think you forgot something…” And when I opened it, I was greeted by a selfie Toby had taken. He was winking and coyly biting his finger, and he was wearing one of his robes, hanging loose enough to give me a peek of a pert nipple.

And despite the hellish trip I had just endured, I found myself laughing, looking ridiculous in my rumpled suit and flipflops, my demons momentarily held at bay.

12

Toby

Birdiewavedmeoverfrom the front desk. “Miguel just radioed to say he’s headed back from the airport. The new guests should be arriving in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Birdie.” I decided to wait and greet them.

After the post-storm cleanup, the resort quickly got back to our normal routine—if only I could. I was still struggling to get back to my usual carefree self. The hurricane had rattled me, but it helped when I decided to take a page out of Gabe’s book and work on being more prepared. I got straight to work on adding reinforced roofs for the cabins, as well as a better cache of supplies and water filters, and an evacuation point on higher ground.

The shuttle pulled up, and as soon as the doors opened, the guests spilled out. It was a full load this afternoon. Subconsciously, my eyes scanned the crowd for a suit—or at least khakis with a pressed seam down the leg. Even though I knew logically that Gabe wouldn’t be here, I couldn’t stop myself from hoping. I had a feeling I would always be hoping…

He’d been gone for two weeks, but it felt more like it had been a year. I never knew I could miss someone like this. Would it get easier with time?

“Hello, everybody!” I said with a beaming smile, feeling the strain as I faked my way through it. “Welcome to Paradise Isle!”

Once we had everyone checked in and off to their cabins, I headed to the patio and collapsed into one of the loungers, letting my smile slip. The sun warmed my body, but there was still a chill deep inside that no amount of time on the beach could touch. My guilt over my father’s death was still there, and it was like the storm had simply uncovered it, like ripping off a scab to reveal the wound hidden beneath.

“You looked like you need a drink,” Birdie said, passing me a cocktail.

“Do I look that bad?” I asked, laughing, while I took the glass from her, the condensation cool beneath my fingers.

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