“Do you have a pen with you?”
I thumbed over my shoulder. “Got one in my car. Why?”
“Get it for me. I need it.”
I wasn’t sure what she needed it for, but I trotted to my truck anyway. I came back with the blue ball-point pen, and she uncapped it before reaching for my wrist. She put the pen to my forearm and started writing something, but her hair was covering her writing so I couldn't see what she was doing.
“You’re going to need to update your records in order to get me all of this hiring paperwork,” Luna said.
And when she looked up at me and smiled, I realized what she had written on my forearm—her name, her number, and her apartment address.
Bingo.
6
Luna
I couldn't get my conversation last night with Bart off my mind. By the time I got back inside, Dad had already hobbled his stubborn ass upstairs. Which was odd, considering I figured he’d be peeking through a window to make sure Bart and I were at least three feet apart at all times. Nevertheless, whenever my father took his pain medication, it practically knocked him on his ass.
So, when I entered into a dark and empty house after Bart had left, it wasn’t too much of a shock.
Still, I tossed and turned all night. I kept thinking about how wonderful Bart looked in the moonlight and how his clothes seemed to fit him just right. His T-shirt hugged the muscular indentation between his tricep and his bicep, which made it hard to focus on his beautiful face. Even out of the corner of my eye, I saw how strong his legs were. The rippling of his abs beneath his shirt called to my fingertips, and it almost tripped me up in the middle of our conversation.
And all night, I dreamt of the man beneath those fabrics.
“Luna!” Dad exclaimed.
I peeked my head out of the bathroom. “Dad! You okay!?”
“Your damned phone is ringing off the hook. Can ya pick it up?”
I blinked. “Sorry, Dad! I got it!”
With a towel wrapped around my body, I rushed down the hallway. I charged into my room and picked up my phone, silencing the ringer as quickly as I could. Great. Dad was already in a peachy mood for the day. That didn’t bode well for the rest of the hours of today.
“Hello?” I asked.
Bart’s voice sounded in my ear. “In the future, it would be nice if you picked up the first time I called.”
“Well, in the future, I’m going to be up and going by a certain time so that I can wait for you every second of my day. But, right now? I’m working on my own time since I technically haven’t onboarded yet.”
He chuckled. “Which is why I’m calling. Can you zip by the hotel and sign this paperwork? It’ll be quicker to process if you just come here and fill it out. There’s a little cafe in the hotel I’m staying in, so we could grab a bite to eat, and I can help you through the paperwork. It gets pretty overwhelming for some.”
I propped my phone against my shoulder. “If I were worried about being intimidated, I wouldn't be accepting this type of position.”
“You have a great point there.”
I smiled. “Keep complimenting me like that and I might just stick around.”
“Trust me, that’s one of my goals you’re not supposed to know about.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Anyway, go ahead and text me the hotel where you’re staying. I’ll get dressed and buzz by say, within the hour?”
“Sounds good. See you then.”
“Oh, and if there’s a cafe, does that mean there’s room service?”
He chuckled. “Already wanting to enjoy the finer things?”
“Actually, no. My father’s still healing, so the more people I can be away from, the more it lessens my chances of getting sick. His immune system is shot right now, so I’d actually feel more comfortable being away from people, if that’s all right.”
He paused. “I hadn’t thought of that. Yes, we can do room service. I’ll have a menu when you get here.”
“I appreciate that, thank you. See you in a few.”
“See you then.”
I hung up my phone and quickly got dressed, then made my way downstairs. I heard Dad cursing to himself and grunting as he fought through his physical therapy exercises, and it gave me pause. I watched at the bottom of the stairs as he used the resistance bands to bicycle his legs. And despite the sweat dripping down his forehead, not once was he deterred.
You’ve got this, Dad. “Hey, Daddy?”
He sighed. “What?”
“I’m heading out for a couple of hours. Do you need anything while I’m gone?”
He groaned. “Arsenic that I can swallow.”
My face fell. “Dad.”
“Sorry. Sorry. Uh, nah. I’m good. Where you off to?”
“To fill out paperwork for a new job, actually.”
His head slowly turned toward me. “A new job?”
I held my hand up. “Don’t worry. It’s only going to take me away four hours at a time. Four hours a day tops. The rest of it can be done from here, if necessary.”
“No, no, no. I’m actually proud of you.”
I blinked. “What?”
He put his feet back against the resistance bands. “Yeah. I’m proud of you. I was hoping you wouldn’t go back to that awful grocery store you insisted on working at.”
“Right. Well, I shouldn't be gone more than a couple of hours. Please, keep your phone by you and call me if you need anything.”
He grunted as he stretched his legs out. “Will do. Bye.”
I snickered. “Bye, Dad.”
I walked out the door and punched in the name of the hotel Bart texted me into my GPS. It wasn’t too far from me. A fifteen-minute drive, assuming no traffic. But, when I pulled into the parking garage and made my way inside, my jaw dropped at the sight. The place was luxurious.
“My word,” I whispered.
I walked over to the elevator and slipped inside. I punched the number of the floor Bart was on and made my way to his room. And when he swung open the door, the smell of cinnamon and apples wafted up my nostrils.
My favorite scent.
“Come on in. I’ve got menus, the paperwork, and my laptop ready to scan it over to our HR Department.”
He ushered me into the most fantastic hotel room I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t stop looking around. The vaulted ceilings boasted of reclaimed wooden beams against a white backdrop that made the space feel bigger and brighter than most rooms. There was a small kitchenette that looked stocked with snacks and other things, and the French double doors leading to a private balcony were open, letting the breeze and fresh air filter into the room. The king-sized four-poster bed had sheer white curtains dangling down from it, wafting with the breeze as I drew in another deep breath of that wonderful scent.
Then, it hit me, and I turned to face Bart. “Why aren’t you staying in your own place in Conroe?”
He closed the door. “Because I sold my place when I moved to Houston to take a job with the company I currently work for.”
“So, what if this refinery or whatever brings you back? Where will you go?”
He turned to face me. “I’m looking for a place. But that always takes time. Finding the right house is paramount to me, especially since I do a lot of my work from home.”