The Inn at Laurel Creek: Zoe & Daniel's Story Read online

  He dropped into that same pile of nature and rolled around in it, letting the leaves and muck attach to his clothes, skin and hair. “How’s this? Better?” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me on top of him. “I’ll even let you put something on my eye if you’d like.”

  Our bodies molded tightly into each other, our faces so close the tips of our noses touched. His breath, warm and moist, tickled my lips. I held my breath.

  Daniel grinned. “Zoe, I—“

  “Daniel, patience is a virtue, remember?”

  His face contorted, pain seeping from his eyes. He shifted. “The—my—nuts.”

  “What?”

  He pushed me off his chest and rolled me onto my back, though I bounded upright immediately, not wanting any more slimy yuckiness attached to my body. I brushed off the leaves stuck to my shirt. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m lying on nuts.” He sat up and twisted his back, grabbed three green balls and tossed them aside. “Do you know how hard those things are? Man, they hurt.”

  My body shook, and I turned away, hoping he wouldn’t see my toothy grin, or the tears pooling in my eyes. I busted myself though when I snorted.

  He smacked the back of my knee. “What’re you laughing at? You didn’t lie on them. Get over here and tell me how it feels.”

  I faced him again, tears falling from my eyes, my laughter silent as my head bobbed up and down. Why it hit me that way, I had no idea, but it did, and I couldn’t control myself. I clutched my waist and dropped next to him, landing square on something round and hard. I shot back up and screamed. “Yowza, that hurts.”

  “I told you.” He held up the nut. “No wonder there’s that expression about being tough as a nut.”

  I raised my eyebrows and out came another snort. I bent over, apologizing. “I’m…I’m…” Barely able to breathe, the words wouldn’t form. “I can’t…I just, can’t.” I crouched down and examined the ground, searching for a nut-free spot to sit. When I found one, I took it. I spent another minute or two collecting myself, doing my best to stop the giggling, but honestly, I hadn’t laughed like that in months, and I didn’t want to stop.

  When my breathing regulated, I nuzzled my head into Daniel’s shoulder. “Thank you for that.”

  He tipped his head onto mine. “For what, sitting on nuts?”

  I chuckled. “Do you want me to start again?”

  He ran his fingers over my knees, drawing a smiley face. “Actually, you’ve got a beautiful laugh. I could listen to it all day long.”

  I coughed. “Super cheesy, Daniel.”

  “Really? I was going for romantic.”

  “I’d give you a six on a scale of one to ten.”

  “Ouch, that’s bad.”

  “Hey, it’s better than failing. Besides, you’re ahead of the game for making me laugh like that. Honestly, I haven’t done that in months.” I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “Funny, I don’t remember the last time I’ve laughed that hard. How sad is that?”

  “What’d he do to you?”

  I twisted my fingers together. “Why does it have to be about a guy?”

  “It doesn’t, but it usually is.”

  I leaned back on the palms of my hands, completely forgetting about the potential slimy things crawling around on the ground. “Well, in this case it wasn’t just a guy. It was my best friend, too.”

  “Oh.”

  “Though I guess she wasn’t really my best friend, because best friends don’t normally steal your boyfriend, and they sure as heck don’t sleep with them when you’re still dating and tell you sex with you was just pity sex.”

  “That had to hit right in the feels.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “The feels?”

  “I have a teenage niece. She helps me with current slang for my books. Sometimes it sticks.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, it hit right in the feels, the bad feels, that is.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “Yesterday. Last year. It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done, and I’m adjusting. I came here to get my butt in gear and forget about it, and to finally write the ending to my book so my publisher doesn’t drop me.” As comfortable as I felt with Daniel, talking about Chad and Shannon reminded me of a bad trip to the dentist or gynecologist. I didn’t want to discuss it, and suddenly felt the urge to run. I pushed myself up and picked at the leaves on my clothing. “And speaking of my book, I really should get back to it.”

  Daniel hopped up. “Zoe, wait. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He tugged at my waist. “I’m sorry.”

  I flipped around, and we were only millimeters apart. “No, Daniel, you didn’t upset me. It’s not you, really. I’ve just got to get this book done, and talking about Chad and Shannon…” I stopped. I didn’t want to get emotional in front of him, and I’d felt the bile in the pit of my stomach, felt it boiling, readying itself to rise to the surface and blow again. “I…I…it doesn’t matter anymore.”

  He brushed a hair from my face and lifted my chin toward him. “If you still hurt, it still matters.”

  My knees shook and barely held my weight. I wrapped my arms around Daniel’s middle. “I don’t hurt when I’m with you.”

  He leaned down and brushed his soft lips against mine. My entire body warmed from the inside, and for a cool fall day, the temperature must have reached a record high.

  He backed away. “Then I’m doing something right.”

  I wanted him to kiss me again. “That kiss though.”

  He blinked, and licked those soft, full lips. “What about it?”

  I traced the outline of his lips with my fingertip. “It was kind of lame, don’t you think? I mean I’ve definitely had better first kisses.”

  His whole body stiffened. “You’ve had better? Oh, hell no.” He lunged forward, cupped my face in his hands and drew my mouth to his. His lips, smooth, wet and full, opened against mine, his tongue teased against them until I couldn’t stand it any longer and gave in. He urged his body into mine, ran the fingers of one hand through my hair, while his other hand slid down my back and rested just below my waist, tightening our bodies even closer together. He bent forward, and my body bent back, molding into him. He moved his lips from mine and trailed small, smooth kisses across my cheek to my left ear, nibbled on my lobe, moved my hair, and then continued to kiss down my neck, shifting my shirt aside to kiss me there, too.

  I squeezed my fingers into his waist and moaned. “Daniel, yes.”

  He caressed the side of my neck and buried his face into it as he held me tight. “Zoe, God, you’re amazing.” And then he let me go and stepped away. “I’ve had better first kisses.” He shook his head. “You said that on purpose.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Patience is a virtue, remember?”

  “You can’t use my line on me.”

  “I can.” He smirked. “And I just did.” He crouched down, grabbed a walnut and tossed it to me. “Here, keep it.”

  I caught it and scraped my fingers on its rough surface. “For what?”

  “To remember that amazing first kiss, of course.”

  I nodded and walked back toward The Inn. “Technically, it was our second kiss, but who’s counting?”

  I heard him sigh behind me. “You’re a little spark plug aren’t you, Miss Best-selling author?”

  “That I am, Mr. Indie Published Newbie, that I am.”

  * * *

  Lou loved the bags of walnuts. “Well look at that. There’s enough for three, maybe four pies here.” She clutched the bags to her chest and winked. “And from the looks of your flushed cheeks, I’d say you had yourself a fine time in the woods finding them, too.”

  My hands instinctively touched my cheeks, and the heat coming from them would have melted my nail polish, if I’d worn any. “It’s a little chilly out.”

  She scratched her jaw, and Stan walked up at that moment. “Oh boy, what’s wrong?”

  Lou hushed him with clasped hand o
n his forearm. “Nothing you need to get yourself all up in arms about, honey. Now git. We got a gourmet meal to prepare.”

  Stan tipped his old cowboy hat to me and shuffled away.

  “Now, what was that you said?” Lou asked.

  “I said it’s chilly out, and that’s why my face is red.”

  She cocked her head and gave me another wink. “Honey, like my mama used to say, you could start an argument in an empty house.”

  I didn’t speak old school southern. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what that means.”

  She nearly dragged me to the room off the front entrance and tossed me into a chair. Thankfully Daniel had to take a call from his marketing manager and wasn’t there for the conversation. Who knew indie publishers even had marketing managers?

  She plopped down into the seat next to me. “Sweetie pie, it means you lie like a dog on a rug. It means what you’re sayin’ don’t match what your face shows. Whatever happened out there in those woods sure must be good because your eyes are sparking, your face is flushed, and your voice hasn’t stopped cracking since you walked through that door over there.”

  My whole body flushed, and I knew my face darkened by at least five shades. “We kissed.”

  Lou clapped and cheered. “Oh lawd, that makes me so happy. I knew it. I just knew it.”

  Daniel appeared in the doorway. “Knew what?”

  Lou stopped talking and straightened in her chair. “What?”

  “You said you knew it. What’d you know?” He glanced at me, but I shifted my eyes to a dark spot on the wood floor.

  Lou waved her hand and stood to leave. “Oh goodness, you can’t be asking an old woman to repeat herself. My memory’s not what it used to be.” She scooted out of the room faster than an ant with a breadcrumb returning to his Queen.

  Daniel rubbed his hands together and sat in the chair Lou vacated. “So, news travels fast in these parts, huh?”

  I bit my lower lip. “I didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret.”

  He grinned, and waves of crystals swam through the blue oceans that passed for his eyes and captivated my heart. “It’s not.”

  “Good to know. I don’t like secrets.”

  His eyes darkened. “I imagine you don’t.”

  He whispered. “So, what’s on the agenda for the evening?” He glanced into the foyer. “Other than no walnut pie, I mean.”

  I giggled. Daniel had a knack for getting a laugh from me with the simplest of things; a one-line comment, facial expression, the way he angled his head just so when I said something that didn’t quite make sense.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. Why?” I asked.

  “Your eyes are closed, and you just did a little half snort thing.”

  My hand covered my mouth, and I dropped it. “I did not. Did I?”

  “Yes, you did. It was this kind of…I don’t know quite how to explain it.” He held up his finger and then laughed. “It sounded a little like Homer Simpson eating doughnuts.”

  And there he went, proving my point. “Oh my gosh, what on earth does that mean?”

  He stood and reached for my hand. “Come with me. I’ll show you.”

  He led me to his suite across from mine. The Loft Suite, they called it, because they’d opened up part of the attic and used that as the bedroom section, giving the first floor a southern style sitting room décor, with a beautiful stone and brick fireplace, a small four-person table, and a flat screen TV that had to be at least seventy inches.

  “Wow, your room is amazing.” I wondered how an indie author could afford such a lavish room, but it wasn’t my place to ask.

  “Thanks. I didn’t know I’d get this when I booked my suite, but I’m not complaining.”

  The black, wrought-iron spiral staircase leading to the loft area beckoned me. “May I?”

  He waved his arm toward it. “Be my guest. I’ll pull up a video.”

  I circled up the stairs, making sure I didn’t gaze down in the process. Stairs didn’t bother me, but walking up them in a circular pattern did. I kept my eyes slanted up, and I moved at a snails pace so I wouldn’t get sick. Mismatched boots and slimy stuff on my face weren’t great, a poor gut pushed the envelope, but throwing up in a hot guy’s suite pretty much sealed the deal for the end of any budding romance, and I didn’t want to nip mine in the bud.

  The king size bed and a two drawer nightstand filled the loft, leaving just a bit of room to move around. The gray down comforter lay neatly across the bed, six pillows piled up at the head. Part of me wanted to drop onto it and nuzzle in for the night, it was that inviting, while the peculiar, nosy, maybe a little inappropriate side of me begged to lift a pillow and catch a hint of Daniel’s scent. I chose instead to swoop my hand over the comforter and imagine him sleeping.

  “Found it,” he semi-hollered from below. “This is so your snort, only an extended version.”

  I blew the bed a kiss goodbye and climbed down the steps. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

  “Listen. Don’t watch.” He pointed to a chair. “Sit there and just listen. I’m telling you, it’s you.”

  He played the video, and I watched him try to stay quiet and not laugh over the sound of Homer grunting through God only knew how many doughnuts.

  “I do not sound like that,” I lied, because my snorts were nearly the same, albeit a shortened version of Homer’s orgasmic doughnut eating experience.

  “Baby, you absolutely do sound like that.” The video ended, but he replayed it.

  He called me baby. Butterflies fought for space inside my stomach.

  He laughed then, a full belly laugh, and that did it. I lost it. Daniel came to me, and when he did, his clear blue eyes had darkened. I recognized that look. Desire.

  Dear God, was something going to happen?

  Was I ready?

  Would I have to rush up those stairs, because I didn’t think I’d make it without the urge to lose my cookies.

  Hmm. Cookies.

  Goodness gracious, my thoughts scattered across all levels of crazy, my nerves tingled, and I didn’t know what to do, or what to expect. In the three seconds it took him to saunter—and saunter he most definitely did, those long legs, wow…those long legs—to me and lift me from the chair lasted at least an hour. My mind went to places it shouldn’t…places I didn’t even know existed.

  He pulled me to him, our bodies crushed together, and ran his fingers through my hair, dragging my head up to his, and kissed me.

  Something―passion, excitement, I wasn’t sure, but it rose from my toes and shot through my body, spending a few extra seconds at all the important spots, and rushed to my lips. Breathless, I returned the kiss, our lips barely touching at first, than melting into each other, his tongue dancing, begging me to let it in, and I did.

  His scent filled me, a hint of warm, fall-like cedar and soap. I wrapped my arms around him and prayed the moment wouldn’t end, completely forgetting about the spiral stairs.

  He broke off the kiss, and I pulled at his bottom lip with my teeth. He moaned. “God Zoe, what you do to me.”

  “If it’s anything like what you do to me, it must be amazing.”

  He leaned his forehead onto mine. “You’re amazing.” He kissed my forehead then and pulled away. “We can’t be in here or I’m going to do something a gentleman shouldn’t, and I don’t want to rush this…to rush you.” He held my hands and led me to the door.

  I wanted to dig my heels into the ground and tell the gentleman to get a life somewhere else, because Daniel could have me right then and there, but I didn’t. Instead, I gazed into his eyes, and said nothing. What could be said? Our bodies, the way they connected, the sparks that flew when they touched, and our eyes, the sparkle in his, the desire I knew emanated from mine, all spoke for me. I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me, but he was right. Rushing was bad. Rushing was horrible. Rushing was intense, and sexy, and hot, and I wanted to rush more than I anything in the world, bu
t damn it, he was right.

  I fixed my hair and followed him out of the suite, peeking back at the loft bed quickly, and wishing, hoping for a chance to enjoy it with Daniel another time.

  There is a moment in every relationship where each person determines if their feelings are real, or it’s simply a casual fling, and walking down the stairs with Daniel, that was my moment. I knew. I knew the butterflies in my stomach, the heat traveling through my body from his touch, they were real, not just a passing fling. Somehow, something happened, Chad and Shannon be damned, and the emotion, the feelings for Daniel flooded every part of my body, filled my heart and swallowed my soul.

  If it were my best friend—or former best friend—saying this about a guy, not Chad, of course, I’d insist she’d fallen in love.

  Was I falling in love with Daniel?

  He squeezed my hand at the bottom of the stairs. When I glanced at him, the dark blue of his eyes hadn’t lightened, and I knew he wasn’t finished with whatever we hadn’t officially started upstairs.

  My entire body shivered.

  “You cold?” He ran his free hand down my arm. “I can get you a sweater.”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine, just an uncontrollable shiver. It happens sometimes.” I didn’t mention the reason why it happened that time, because how do you tell a man you caught the animalistic need to throw you down and make love to you penetrating from his eyes?

  Hmm. I definitely held onto that thought for Charisma and Nate.

  “If you change your mind…”

  “Thank you.”

  He truly was a gentleman, and my heart beat faster just being near him. I’d never felt anything similar, not with Chad, not with anyone. Something clicked with us, and we both felt it.

  “Oh lawd, Daniel, I plum forgot to tell you, you had a package delivered while you were out.”

  “Oh, great. I was expecting that.”

  “It’s in my office. Let me fetch it right quick.”

  “A package? Who delivers a package to a bed and breakfast?”

  He laughed it off. “It’s just something that was supposed to be sent to my house, but it never arrived, so I had it sent here instead.”