Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Inside, the lobby is pure luxurious magic. A giant stone fireplace roars in the center of the vast room, drawing your eye to the flames. Oversized leather chairs are gathered around it with happy people curled up with their wineglasses, chatting and laughing. The air smells like cedar and something chocolatey baking in the kitchen.
“I have to see this place in winter,” I say, staring at the fire. “Can you imagine coming in from the cold and sitting right there?”
Ryland smiles beside me, his hand sliding onto the small of my back. “Guess we’ll have to make that happen.”
I’m trying not to melt right there on the polished wood floors when two identical women behind the front desk glance up. They both have straight dark bobs, black-rimmed glasses, and matching name tags that read Tina and Tiffany.
“I just have to use the restroom,” Ryland says. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not,” I say, standing in the lobby.
He looks at me for a long moment before he finally tears his eyes off of me and leaves. I feel all giddy inside as I watch him go.
“Can we help you?” one of the receptionists asks.
“Oh no,” I say as I step a little closer to the desk. “I’m just here on a date.”
“Oh,” Tina says, looking blank-faced at Tiffany. “She’s on a ‘date.’”
She does those little air quotes when she says date. What’s that supposed to mean?
“Did your ‘date’ book a room?” Tiffany asks, staring dead-eyed at me.
“What?” I ask, looking around in confusion. “We’re having dinner.”
“But who’s booking the room after?” Tina asks. “You or him?”
“Does it come out of your rate?” Tiffany asks. “Or, is that extra for him?”
My mouth drops open. “I’m not a… prostitute.”
They glance at each other with blank faces. Their faces are expressionless, but I can tell they don’t believe me.
“I’m not!” I snap. “I’m on a date with the Sheriff.”
“The Sheriff,” Tina says with a grin. “Scandalous.”
“This keeps getting better and better,” Tiffany says, bitting her bottom lip.
“I’m not…” I do up the two buttons on my dress. “This is highly inappropriate. I’m having dinner.”
“But what’s for dessert?” Tina asks.
“And how much does it cost?” Tiffany adds.
“We’ll book you the room in the Western Suite,” Tina says, typing something on her computer. “It’s pricey, but the Sheriff can pay.”
“What?” I say with my heart pounding. “No. Don’t.”
“Are you ready?” Ryland asks. His smooth masculine voice normally puts me at ease, but I nearly jump two feet in the air when I suddenly hear it behind me.
“Yes,” I say, shooting those strange girls a dirty look before I take his hand and leave. They just stare at me blankly. Weird.
Dinner is amazing and romantic. We get the best table in the house, a romantic little spot beside a fireplace and far from the kitchen. I spend the next two magical hours with Ryland, sitting over candlelight, eating incredible food, and drinking delicious wine.
I feel like I’m in a movie the entire time.
“Tell me something I wouldn’t guess about you,” he says as he swirls his wine glass, those warm brown eyes resting on me.
I grin over the rim of my glass. “I was on the debate team in high school.”
“I would have guessed that,” he says with a laugh. “Let me guess—you were terrifying.”
“Oh, completely. I once made a senior cry during regionals. I was ruthless.”
Ryland grins as he watches me. “What were you debating?”
“If space exploration is worth the cost,” I say, smiling as I remember how I took Chad down in front of an auditorium full of people.
“I bet he was wishing he was on Mars after you were done with him.”
I laugh. “Oh yeah. I think I ended his dream of becoming an astronaut.”
He’s laughing now, deep and unguarded. “Remind me never to argue with you.”
“You got it,” I say as I lift my wine glass. He clinks it with his and smiles.
He looks so good in the candlelight. I don’t want this night to end.
The manager, Lauren, comes by and says hello to the Sheriff. She’s nice and polite with a prim and proper style—crisp blouse and a pencil skirt.
“Lauren owns the lodge with her husband Owen,” Ryland says, introducing me.
“It’s a beautiful place,” I tell her. “You should be so proud.”
“We love our little slice of heaven,” Lauren says, clasping her hands as she smiles at me. “We’re happy you’re getting to share it with us for the night.”
“It’s almost perfect,” Ryland says with a mischievous grin. “It’s only missing one thing.”
Lauren tilts her head with a tight smile. “What’s that?”
“Imagine a very talented harp player playing right there,” Ryland says pointing to the spot under the giant chandelier in the middle of the restaurant. “That would be something.”
“That would be nice,” Lauren says with a nod. “We tried hiring a piano player once, but it didn’t work out. He drank a little too much and missed a few too many keys. A harp player would be perfect, but there aren’t any in town that I know of.”