Of course, those weren’t the only times he thought of her. Often, when he was at work, he’d wonder where she was, what she was doing…and if she was thinking of him. He would get so worked up, he’d have to hit the gym to burn off some tension. His fitness level had improved, if nothing else.
The elevator stopped at another floor and a couple more women stepped on, forcing Monica to press closer to him. He took a sharp intake of breath. She glanced up at him and he gazed into her eyes, almost losing his breath again.
“Are you okay?” she whispered with concern in those eyes. “Sorry. I don’t want to squeeze into you so much.”
You can squeeze into me as much as you want, he wanted to say but didn’t. Instead, he tightened his hand at her waist, then leaned closer and whispered, “I’m fine. You okay?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her she smelled good—whatever scent she was wearing was the same one she’d had on that night in St. Paul. The one he couldn’t seem to forget. He swallowed. It was getting hard not to give his feelings away.
Feelings? What feelings could he have? He barely knew her.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator finally opened at one of the main floors, and people began filing out. Since they had been pushed to the back, they were the last to get out. Most of their elevator companions rushed toward the casino, though some headed to the bar to enjoy specialty drinks and appetizers.
Across the wide, festively decorated corridor was a huge entertainment lounge, where couples sat around talking while soft music played. A huge Christmas tree that nearly reached the ceiling had been beautifully decorated, reminding everyone that Christmas was only a few weeks away.
“You’re quiet.”
Monica’s words forced him to glance over at her and he saw her smile. She had the kind of smile that automatically made you want to smile back. “I didn’t want to bore you too soon.”
“You won’t bore me. In fact, I’m hoping you’ll tell me a lot more about yourself.”
He’d be happy to tell her anything she wanted to know. “Why? There’s nothing special about me, Monica.”
“Right,” she laughed. “Lots of people just miraculously show up when I need some muscle power. Of course, I want to know all about you, my guardian angel.”
He couldn’t help grinning. “I want to get to know you as well.”
“Why?” she said, asking the same question he had.
He shrugged his shoulders, still smiling. “The same reason, I guess. Why wouldn’t I want to know more about the woman I’ve had to rescue twice now from an unsavory man’s unwanted advances.”
“I don’t relish the role of damsel in distress, Landon.”
He didn’t pick up any sign of annoyance in her tone. In fact, she seemed rather amused by the thought. “I have no complaints about being there for you, Monica.”
I have no complaints about being there for you, Monica.
Landon’s words had made her feel giddy inside. When had that ever happened?
“Good evening.”
The host’s greeting grabbed her attention, and she stopped ogling Landon long enough to look around. The dining room was crowded tonight. She noticed that there were vacant seats at the table occupied by the group she had sat with the last two nights. Honestly, she’d rather not endure another evening with that bunch.
Those dinners hadn’t been fun. The men at the table had strategically sized up the women, as if to decide who would be their flavor for the night. She had declined several offers to go to the nightclub after dinner those first two nights. Instead, she’d gone back to her cabin alone to sit out on the balcony, drink a glass of wine and enjoy the ocean.
“Your private table is ready, Mr. Chestnut.”
The host’s words caught her by surprise. “Private table?” she asked, looking at Landon.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’d rather not sit with a crowd.”
Mind? She was overjoyed. “I’d rather not sit with one either.”
“Good.” Then he turned back to the host. “Please lead the way.”
They followed the man to a table that was by a window, allowing them to admire the beauty of the moonlight on the ocean. Once they’d been seated, Landon said, “So I guess you’re stuck with me now. There won’t be anyone else here to save you from a boring conversation.”
She smiled over at him. “I have no problem with that. Besides, like I told you, I want to know everything there is to know about Landon Chestnut.”
And so, over an incredible dinner, he told her all about himself, his job and his family. “My parents are still alive, as well as both sets of grandparents. My parents had two children—me and my sister Zoe.”
She nodded as she cut into her steak. “What’s your middle name?”
“O’Brien. It was my mother’s maiden name.”
“Landon O’Brien Chestnut. I like that.”
“Thanks. What about you? Do you have a middle name, Monica?”
“Yes, I am Monica Ethella Bennett. It’s a combination of my great-grandparents’ first names. Ethan and Idella.”
A smile curved his lips. “An ingenious idea. I like that.”
“Thanks. Do you have any interesting hobbies, Landon?”
“I love camping.”
She lifted a brow. “How did you get into that?”
He finished chewing and then placed his fork down. The reporter in her could tell this was a subject he liked talking about. “My father is from Hamilton, North Carolina, a small town close to the Smokey Mountains. It was named after the first Secretary of the Treasury, Alexander Hamilton. Have you ever heard of the actor/director, Sterling Hamilton?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, it’s his hometown. He’s one of Alexander Hamilton’s descendants.”
“I didn’t know that. Does Sterling Hamilton ever visit?”
“Sometimes. He has a huge spread in the mountains, but of course all his land is private. Trust me when I say you can’t get close to it. Some of my older cousins went to high school with Sterling. His father used to work as a lumberjack.”
He took a sip of his wine and then continued, “My dad left Hamilton at eighteen to attend Morehouse College in Atlanta. It was always Dad’s intent to go back to Hamilton when he finished college, but he met my mother. She was a student at Clark Atlanta University. After graduation, they married and after finding jobs in Atlanta, they decided to stay and make it their home.”
He paused a moment before continuing. “Dad’s a country boy at heart and wanted his kids to grow up loving the outdoors as much as he did. He inherited a great-uncle’s home in the mountains that sits on over a hundred acres. When we were kids, we would go there every summer. Some nights we slept inside the cabin and some nights we slept outdoors. I grew to love it. Even Zoe, who can be awfully prissy at times, enjoyed roughing it.”
He stopped for a moment to sprinkle some steak sauce on his meat. “A few years ago, Dad gave me and Zoe twenty acres of our own. So far, she hasn’t done anything with hers, but I built a cabin on mine.” He looked at her and admitted, “I don’t go there as often as I used to.”