Chapter 5 #2
I dug out the little to-go container, grabbed a few napkins, and went on my way, only I didn’t veer toward the exit door to the back. The man was gone from the desk. Maria clicked away at the computer, ignoring me.
“What was the discount?” Being direct would work better at getting the story from her. I hoped.
“Oh that? Nothing.” Tap, tap, tap.
“Maria.”
She sighed. “He was upset that we don’t have a room that could fit a group bigger than five. So I told him he could have a discount on a second room.”
It wasn’t the worst idea, but Maria’s resistance to telling me the situation stuck with me. “How often does that happen?”
She sniffed and lifted her chin. “I don’t go around giving everyone a deal.”
I empathized with her defensiveness. I’d had to argue my decisions enough, but if this was a recurring issue, we needed to solve it. “How often does it happen that parties need more than one room?”
Her sigh was smaller this time, and she took a moment to think. “Once or twice a month.”
A month? Boulders filled my gut. “Do you know if they ever choose somewhere else to stay instead?”
“I don’t know the instances off the top of my head, but it’s happened before.”
I drummed my fingers on the counter. “So it’d be nice to have a room that can fit, what, a party of six to ten?”
“If we don’t have an adjoining room, yeah. At least eight. We’re a resort.” She shrugged as if to say, Yeah, we should have more than normal hotel rooms. I didn’t disagree.
“Let me do some checking. Can you jot down whenever this happens or when the same guest books more than one room but it’s not for an event?”
She shifted her weight on her feet. “Yeah. I mean, I guess I can.”
Was she happy that I followed up on what seemed to be a pinch point in our process? She was guarded, like when I asked for the list of things to order. When I turned to go, she rose. I hadn’t noticed she was using the stool.
“Thank you.” She patted the seat behind her after seeing that I noticed. “For this.” She stamped her feet. “And this. My back also feels a lot better at the end of a shift.”
“You’re welcome.” It was too early to pat myself on the back, but I’d give myself a “good job.” Taking care of my employees was the most important part of all this. If I could care for them, I could care for myself.
I went outside into the muggy heat. Jasper was squatting with a tape measure at his boots. He was placing a paver, his biceps flexing. His gray shirt had a sweat line down the middle of the back, and the material molded over him. Faint whistling reached me.
Was I being a stalker? I had interrupted his day so many times, but I always had a reason. The problem was, I could think of a billion reasons to hang around Jasper. I could easily become his biggest creeper.
I stopped a few feet away. “I know you said that you don’t get hungry, but I worry.”
He tilted his head and peered over his shoulder. “You worried about me?”
“Yes. If you collapse, it’ll be all my fault.
” I held up the to-go box. Providing him with meals and catering to him was worlds different than what I had done for my ex.
That guy had been like having a child. Jasper was all man.
“I asked the kitchen to make a couple of pieces of fried chicken and put them in the fridge, so it’s cold and shouldn’t be too warm and heavy on your stomach on a hot day.
” I shrugged before I kept rambling. “I hope you like cold fried chicken.”
“I happen to like most food I don’t have to cook.
” He pushed back onto his butt and planted the heels of his boots on a paver in front of him.
He twisted and reached for the water bottle a few feet away.
His shirt caught at his waist and tugged just slightly out of his jeans to reveal tanned skin.
How could such a small strip of skin tease me like that?
How long had it been since I’d been on a date? I left my ex right before I had to do everything for Christmas, while only receiving a gift that he really wanted for himself. He’d used half the box of face masks he’d given me for my birthday.
It’d been a while.
Jasper held his hand out, but I clutched the container. “You should sit in the shade.”
He chuckled and propped his arms across his knees. “I used to spend all day outside under the open sky. I promise you, I’ll be okay.”
Of course, he could take care of himself. Why was I coddling this grown, strong guy who’d done nothing but save my ass? He was helping me with the maintenance, and it’d be because of him that the resort didn’t lose the wedding event next weekend. “Here you go.”
I handed it off and backed up.
“Sit, Sheridan. Enjoy the sunshine for a while.”
A bead of sweat tickled my hairline. He could toil out here for hours while I was getting overheated in minutes.
I used to run around outside all the time with my dad, yet I was baking.
To make a point to myself, I dropped to my butt next to Jasper, happy to do as he ordered.
I made sure I was on a paver to keep my shorts from getting dirty.
A dandelion that had gone to seed had somehow survived being trampled. I plucked it and softly blew the seeds, smiling at the way they carried on the breeze.
Jasper’s gaze brushed against my lips. Did I imagine the interest there? “Your dandelion sighs are going to make me earn my keep with the weed killer and fertilizer.”
“Oh god. I’m so sorry. My dad used to get so frustrated when I did that too.”
“I’m kidding,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t care. Actually, I think it’s a shame we don’t embrace them and watch beautiful women blow them all day.”
My laughter shot out of me. “Maybe we can quit with the herbicide, and I’ll just put a sign up.”
“It can say ‘Don’t mind the dandelions. You can blow them.’” He grinned and peeled the lid off his container. “Damn. You got the whole chicken in here.”
“It’s not a lot.”
“It’s four pieces, and not the small ones like a wing. Plus—nice—fresh coleslaw.”
“Those two just go together.”
“They do.” He held out a chicken thigh.
I looked from his hand to his face. “That’s yours.”
“I’m not gonna eat all this, or I’ll need to nap all afternoon. Eat.”
My stomach rumbled like his order was its cue to protest that I hadn’t had lunch either. I didn’t take the time most days because I was too busy. I accepted the chicken. When I crunched through the breading, the perfectly seasoned flavor exploded on my tongue. A moan ripped from me.
Jasper stopped, his teeth sunk into his piece of chicken.
I finished my bite, wiping my mouth off. “It’s good,” I said around the food.
His jaw flexed as he chewed. “Damn,” he said again.
Did that mean he thought it was excellent?
He swallowed, shaking his head. “I had the steak the other night, and I thought the cook outdid himself, but this is next level.”
“Paola only hires the best, but she is above even them, and she made the chicken.” I ripped another bite off.
“I might have to hemorrhage my paycheck in there while I’m here.”
I smiled, but the way he said that made it sound like he wasn’t going to be here long.
Why would he? The guy had worked in IT. He was a cowboy. He had so many options. This resort was not in his family, nor was it run by anyone he cared about.
We ate in silence. I finished off my piece and brushed my hands off. “Wish I would’ve ordered more.”
He pinned me with a hard stare. “Did you pay for this, Sheridan Bishop?”
“It’s no big deal.”
He shook his head. “No. Nope. You are not spending your money to feed my stubborn ass.”
“It’s fine, Jasper. I’m no longer getting my commissions drained dry by a deadbeat boyfriend. I live in my mom’s house, and I don’t have kids to spend my money on.”
His eyes darkened at the mention of a boyfriend. “So you picked me?” he drawled before shoving another thigh into my hands.
“Apparently.” I fumbled the chicken but rescued it before it touched the ground.
“Nice save,” he said.
“Thanks, but it’s so good a little dirt wouldn’t ruin it.” I hunched in on myself to gnaw on the thigh. God, this was so good. I had the recipe. It was an old one of my mom’s that Paola doctored up. When was the last time I had cooked for myself? Less than when I last went on a date at least.
“Now I owe you a meal.”
I snapped my head up, ripping a hunk of meat with it. I hurried up and chewed and swallowed. “You don’t owe—”
“So I guess the question is, where should we go? I’d offer to grill, but I have to admit to being a little intimidated by the offerings here. I’m a simple man, and I run a simple grill.”
“I bet you grill just fine.” I winced. I was supposed to be putting him at ease about not owing me a meal.
“You want to find out?” He shrugged and dug a fork out of the to-go container for the coleslaw. “All right, then.”
My mouth went dry. Was he…inviting me over? “You’re going to grill?”
“Don’t sound so dubious, boss. I won’t even have to scour the house before you show up.”
“Show up where?” I croaked.
“My place. What night works the best?”
I blinked. Blinked again. Grilling. His place. A meal. Together. I should say no. I should put a stop to this. There was no way it was appropriate for me to go to a new employee’s house. By myself.
Yet, the word no didn’t occur to me. “Friday.”