The Accidental Honeymoon (Wildflower Lane #1)

Chapter 3

three

The neon sign flickers to life as we step out of the rental car. Its gaudy pink glow casts an almost ethereal light on the wet pavement. "Love Hotel" it proclaims, with a heart-shaped arrow piercing through the letters.

“Oh god,” I mutter. “What in the hell?”

I can practically hear the sound of a cheesy 80s power ballad in the background. Maybe it's probably just my imagination running wild, though.

Jay looks over at me, his tall frame blocking the worst of the drizzle, his eyes sparkling with playful enthusiasm. He's like a kid on Christmas morning.

"This is going to be amazing," he says, rubbing his hands together with glee. "Trust me."

I let out a skeptical hmm but follow him toward the entrance. Our hands brush briefly, sending an unexpected jolt up my arm. I grab his arm, excited when I remember that he’s all mine.

I can hold his hand or any other damn thing I please, any time I feel like. I’m Mrs. Rustin .

Inside, the lobby is a shrine to every romantic cliché imaginable: extravagant red velvet drapes, crystal chandeliers, and more heart-shaped objects than I thought possible. There's an extremely tall statue of Cupid, bow drawn, perched atop a faux marble pedestal.

"Subtle as a wildfire in a wheat field," I mutter under my breath. Jay laughs, a warm, easy sound that makes me momentarily forget why we're here.

“Come on. Even grumps fall under Cupid’s spell at the love hotel.”

We check in remotely using our phones, so there is no one to greet us. Just a big, echoey marble space. Jay takes my arm—gently, like he's handling something fragile—and steers me toward a large, ornate bulletin board. It's covered in fliers, each one advertising a different "love-themed" activity.

"Which one do you want to do first?" he asks. He rocks back on his heels, the picture of casual anticipation.

I scan the fliers, trying to imagine which of these activities would be the least excruciating. Willing myself to be adventurous, I see "Love Yoga," "Couples Karaoke," and "Heartfelt Crafts." Those are a big no thanks from me.

My eyes land on one in the corner. "Love Potion Mixology." I have to admit, the idea of mixology sounds fun.

"How about this?" I say, pointing. Jay leans in, his shoulder brushing mine.

"Perfect," he says. "I always wanted to be a mad scientist."

We make our way to the hotel bar, which is decked out in more red velvet and crystal. A woman in a sequined dress welcomes us and hands us each a cocktail shaker. There is list of ingredients beside the bar’s sink.

"Remember," she says with a wink. "The secret ingredient is always love!"

I stifle a groan and look over at Jay. He's already examining his list with the intensity of a college freshman in his first chemistry lab.

"I don’t know anything about mixing drinks,. This is probably going to be a disaster," I say.

"Correction. It'll be a delicious disaster. Come on, it'll be fun."

I realize that there are colorful liquids, fancy cocktail glasses, and fruity garnishes, but the booze is missing. Instead, there are several clear liquids in little bottles labeled Spirited Away Rum and FauxBon Bourbon . I giggle at the names and point it out to Jay.

“Amazing.” He pulls out his phone. “Let me get your best Vanna White with that fake booze.”

I can’t help but grin as I show it off. He snaps a few pictures and then begins haphazardly tossing ingredients into his shaker, not even bothering to measure. A bit of mint flies out and lands in his hair. He doesn't notice.

I cast an eye over him. "You might actually need a fire extinguisher for yours."

He shrugs. "Fortune favors the bold."

He puts a cap on his shaker and gives it a vigorous shake, his whole body getting into the motion. I can't help but watch, my eyes tracing the lines of his muscles as they move beneath his shirt. He catches me looking and I wink at him.

Yeah, I’m going to hit that when we get somewhere more private.

I give my shaker a tentative swirl, then a more confident shake.

"Ready?" he says, holding up his shaker like a knight presenting a goblet.

I nod and we pour our mixtures into glasses simultaneously. His is a murky green; mine, a translucent pink. We clink glasses. Inside, I’m bracing myself for whatever horrors his "bold" approach has created.

The first sip is a shock. Not because it's bad. In fact, it's surprisingly good. I look over at Jay, and he's wearing an expression of pure, unfiltered joy.

"Wow," he says. "I think I taste… happiness?"

I take another sip, slower this time, letting the flavors dance on my tongue.

"Mine's like a first kiss," I say before I can stop myself. Jay's eyes meet mine, and for a moment, we're not in a ridiculous themed hotel. We're just two people, very married and very much in love. It doesn’t matter what the theme of the hotel is.

We both start to giggle, the sound bubbling up from deep within. It's the kind of laughter that comes when you're trying to hold it back, making it all the more uncontrollable.

When we finally catch our breath, Jay wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. "See? Told you it would be fun."

I don't want to admit it, but he's right. "It was fun. But what will be next? Please, anything but couples yoga. I’d rather namaste away from that one.”

“You’re having a good time.” He pus his arm around my shoulders very casually and steers me back toward the lobby. “I can tell.”

“I’m really trying to cut loose.” I give him a helpless look. “Is it working?”

“I can tell because you’re not fighting like a wildcat against every suggestion.”

“It’s really taxing.” Leaning against my husband, I sigh dramatically. “Gonna take a lot of turkey meatloaf for you to make it up to me.”

"Deal. So, what's next?" Jay asks, his eyes scanning the lobby. I can tell he's hoping I'll suggest something.

We linger in the lobby, neither of us quite ready to end the night. The soft glow of the chandeliers casts a warm light over Jay's features, making him look almost wistful. I bite my lip.

"Want to go to the gift shop?" Jay asks, breaking the silence.

I shake my head. "Didn't even know they had one."

He nods toward a corner of the lobby, where a small, gaudily decorated storefront beckons. "Come on. Let's check it out."

We walk over, and I half expect the door to jingle with bells when Jay opens it. The shop is a shrine to kitsch, with shelves lined with heart-shaped trinkets, gaudy jewelry, and novelty items that look like they belong in a carnival prize bin. A large display in the center of the room boasts a variety of "Love Potions," each one more absurdly named than the last.

"This place is amazing," Jay says. I can't tell if he's being sarcastic or genuinely impressed, but due to his whole personality, I’m inclined to believe the latter.

I pick up a piece of costume jewelry. It’s a massive ring with a plastic diamond the size of a golf ball. I slide it onto my right hand and crack a smile.

"Think this would make me look more regal?" I ask, holding it up for him to see.

Jay takes my hand and examines the ring closely. "It's a little understated for my taste, but it'll do." Then his smirk appears and he looks at me. "You should see the look on your face right now."

“I thought you were being serious!” I playfully smack his arm.

“No one could think that this ring was anything but ostentatious.” He grins.

“Ostentatious? Look at you, pulling out those SAT vocabulary words. That word of the day calendar I bought for the kitchen must be working.”

“It may or may not have been the word of the day yesterday.” He gives me a perfectly innocent look. “I used ostentatious in a conversation with my agent yesterday and he looked at me like I was crazy.”

“I know you too well.” I laugh and put the ring back. "So, what do you like in this shop?"

Jay's eyes light up. "Let's pick out souvenirs for each other. Something truly hideous."

I raise an eyebrow. "Is this a competition?"

"Everything's a competition," he says, grinning. "But I'll go easy on you."

We split up, wandering through the cramped aisles. I keep an eye on Jay, watching as he picks up various items, contemplates them, then puts them back. There's a boyishness to his movements, like he's playing a game of make-believe.

God, I love that man.

I find a section dedicated to apparel and my heart lifts when I see the t-shirts. Each one is emblazoned with a cheesy slogan: "I Got Lucky at the Love Hotel," "Property of My Sweetheart," "Love Machine." I pick up one in Jay's size, a garish pink thing with glittery letters that read, "Heartthrob."

This is perfect. He’d never wear it normally, of course. But the thought of him even trying it on makes me giggle.

I walk back to the center of the store, and Jay meets me there, hiding something behind his back. "Ladies first," he says.

I hold up the t-shirt. "For you. It matches your eyes."

He takes it from me and laughs. "Pink is definitely my color." He drapes it over his shoulder like a prized garment. "I might actually wear this."

"Yeah, right."

"Okay, your turn." He brings his hand around and reveals a small box. I take it from him and open it to find a pair of earrings, each one a dangling, sparkly heart.

"They're almost pretty," I say, surprised by his choice. "I thought we were going for hideous."

“For you? Never. My girl only gets the best.”

“Oh, honey…” Cupping Jay’s cheek, I kiss him with as much gusto as is filling my chest right now. He bends me back, executing a little dip as he kisses my lips.

By the time we come up for air, we’re both a little breathless. And me? I’m more than a little turned on.