Falling for Real (The Dare to Fall #2)

Chapter One

Kaylee

The sun is low in the sky when I arrive at The Anchor Oasis in Key West, painting the normal light blue hue in shades of orange, pink, and purple.

It’s a breathtaking backdrop for the all-inclusive resort where I will spend the next four days celebrating my cousin’s wedding.

Ashley insisted on planning this whole event herself.

I’m a corporate event planner with my best friend and partner, Rainey Dare, and I know enough that I offered to help take some of the burden off Ashley’s shoulders.

She declined, and I respect her decision.

I’ll have enough going on this weekend with my maid-of-honor responsibilities, anyway.

My hand drifts into my purse, and I assure myself the two ring boxes are exactly where they’re supposed to be.

At the last minute, Ashley and her fiancé decided to have their rings engraved with their initials and the wedding date, so my first official duty for the weekend was to pick them up from the jeweler and bring them with me today.

It’s not the most complicated task, but its importance has weighed on me ever since I placed them in my handbag.

I’m not deliberately forgetful. I was diagnosed with ADD at seventeen, just before graduation. Too late for high school but in time to help me navigate college.

Rainey never cared. She went into business with me because she knew I could handle things, and I do. I have an assistant who keeps me organized during events when I might otherwise spin out and forget something important.

Pulling up to the valet station, I grab my suitcase out of the trunk of my car and the garment bag from the back seat.

I hand over my keys and stroll into the lobby, my heels clicking against the mosaic ocean-colored tile in various shades of blue.

Around me, there are tons of people milling about, some of them dragging suitcases on wheels like me, ready to check in, and others are grouped together as they talk.

I join a line in front of the reception desk, where two people are checking in guests, and glance around the lobby, looking to see if I spot anyone I know.

Only family members and the wedding party are arriving today.

Guests will show up tomorrow evening. I don’t recognize anyone, so I turn to face forward, and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of the man in front of me.

Tristan Hayes, co-owner of Midnight, an upscale nightclub in Downtown Miami with his business partners, Lucas Carras, Rainey’s fiancé, and Jack Dare, Rainey’s brother.

Thanks to our very small world, Tristan is also in the bridal party this weekend.

I’m here for the bride’s side while he’s here for the groom, his high school friend with whom he remains close.

In truth, Tristan is the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Muscular with the physique of an athlete, he’s probably over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and an aura of composure that’s extremely alluring.

I can’t help but admire his side view: the chiseled jaw, perfectly straight nose, and long, dark eyelashes that frame hazel eyes I don’t have to see to envision.

His hair is a deep shade of brown, trimmed short on the sides and left longer on top where it’s styled purposefully messy.

His entire appearance gives off an effortlessly sexy look in a way that grabs a woman’s attention.

He’s always had mine.

As if sensing my stare, Tristan turns, his gaze meeting mine. A smile curls his lips, showing off perfectly straight, white teeth, and my pulse skips a beat. “Hey, Kaylee. I thought I’d be the last one to arrive.”

I chuckle. “I guess that honor belongs to me. Unless someone else shows up fashionably late.” Chronic lateness is one of my flaws, at least according to my ex-boyfriend, Mark, who is also in the bridal party since he’s cousins with the groom.

Aware of my tendency to not be on time, I set my alarm back fifteen minutes for anything work related, but when it comes to my personal life, I’m more relaxed.

I push aside thoughts of my ex being here this weekend. I’ll deal with him when I have to.

The line moves, so Tristan turns and steps forward, then pivots to face me again.

“How’s the club these days?” I ask, making conversation.

Though I visit Midnight with Rainey on occasion, Tristan and I are not what I’d call friends.

We don’t know each other well enough for that.

But ever since we met, he stars in my fantasies in a way that has me flushing now.

He falls under secret crush. Only Rainey knows my true feelings about him and she’d never share with anyone, including her fiancé.

“It’s busier than ever,” he says. “It was hard for Lucas and I both to get away this weekend, with Jack still in Charleston.”

“Midnight’s new location, right?” I’ve never been to South Carolina.

He nods, his gaze straying across the lobby. I turn to see Ashley and Eric locked in an embrace that turns into one very hot kiss.

“Aah, the bride and groom. Those two are sickeningly sweet,” he says, but the warmth in his eyes tells me he’s not being rude. Just honest.

“Are you here with …” I tap my foot as I try to remember the name of his girlfriend. I think it started with an A. “Annabelle?”

Tristan’s grin grows wider, and I have to blink and break eye contact so I don’t melt into a puddle at his feet. He’s too good-looking for his own good.

“You mean Annika?” He laughs out loud.

I flush with embarrassment. “Right, Annika. Sorry. Is she here with you?” I ask, mentally crossing my fingers he’s here alone. At least I won’t be the only one.

“No, we broke up.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “We just weren’t a good fit. It’s easier to be single,” he says with a wink meant to charm me. And it works.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” No, I’m not. But I push that thought away. No matter how alluring he is, I have no intention of acting on my desire for the man.

Tristan and I want very different things out of life.

I’m a ‘committed relationship’ kind of girl, whereas he’s a ‘new woman on his arm every week’ type of guy.

Knowing that, I ogle him but have no expectations, nor have I ever tried to capture his attention.

I was in a serious relationship when we met, so I ignored my attraction, which was easy enough since we only saw each other on occasional group events or when I go to the club with Rainey for a night out.

It’s been a while since I saw him last. A few months ago, we were celebrating my company Golden Palm Events’s completion of a big project for the Miami Thunder, an NFL team’s anniversary bash that Rainey took the lead on.

Tristan’s girlfriend at the time, a leggy blonde, Annika, with no interest in anyone but herself, spent the whole evening with her face buried in her phone and barely said two words to any of us.

“What about you? Are you alone?” he asks.

“Not intentionally. I had a date but he’s sick, so I’m flying solo this weekend, too.” Maybe we can hang out together. Unless he picks up one of Ashley’s pretty friends. I try not to frown at that thought.

The line finally moves again, and an older couple directly in front of Tristan reaches the desk. He and I continue to chat when we’re interrupted by a loud, “Oh, no!”

“There must be some kind of mistake!” the older, gray-haired woman in front of him cries out, clinging to her husband’s arm.

He pats her hand in a reassuring gesture. “Please check again,” he says. “I made our reservation a month ago.”

The brunette behind the desk sighs. “Did you use a third-party booking site?”

“Yes,” the gentleman says. “Why?” he asks warily.

“I’m so sorry, but we’ve had an issue with reservations this weekend made through secondary sites. Unfortunately, you’re not the first couple that’s had this problem.” She gives them a genuine, sympathetic look.

“But we booked it with a credit card,” the woman says in a shaky tone. She’s obviously near tears. “Can we get a different room instead?”

The employee shakes her head and shifts on her feet, her discomfort obvious. “Your card wasn’t charged, but I’m so sorry. We’re completely booked this weekend.”

“But … it’s our fiftieth wedding anniversary,” the man says, putting an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “And we were married here. We flew all the way here from Missouri to spend the weekend at your resort.”

My heart aches for them. They had a special trip planned and now it’s ruined. I wish I could do something to help them.

“You can have my room,” Tristan says, as if he had the same thought, except he came up with an idea of how.

My mouth parts as the couple turns to Tristan, their wide-eyed expressions just as shocked as I feel. I can’t believe he offered them his room. Where will he stay? What is he thinking?

“Oh, thank you!” the woman says, throwing her arms around Tristan.

“Are you sure?” her more reserved husband asks, but I see the hope shining in his hazy blue eyes.

“I am.” Tristan grins, showing off a dimple I forgot to admire earlier. “Please, enjoy your anniversary. In fact, let me have room service bring you some champagne, as well.”

Before the couple can reply, he turns to the desk again to arrange things, along with transferring his own reservation to the elderly couple.

There’s no hesitation, seemingly no concern there are no other rooms available at this resort.

He just calmly does the right thing, the kind thing, and I’m overwhelmed by a rush of warmth for him, causing a lump to rise in my throat.

I watch in silence as the couple pause to talk to Tristan again.

Her husband steps forward, his arm extended, and they shake hands. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to us,” he says, as his wife slips under his arm and sidles up to him.

“You guys deserve to celebrate your anniversary here, where your love story began.”

They finally walk away toward the elevators and before I can say anything to Tristan, the employee behind the desk calls out, “Next!”

“That’s your cue,” Tristan says, bending to grab his small piece of luggage and the garment bag hanging over it.

I’m about to turn to the counter, but I hesitate as Tristan turns away from me, going where, I don’t know. “Wait.” I place my hand on his muscular forearm. His skin is warm, and I feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. “Where are you going?” I ask him.

He looks utterly unbothered. “I guess I’ll see if there are any other hotels in the area with a room available.”

“But everyone in the wedding is staying here. And the guests too.” It would be inconvenient for him to be anywhere else.

“I’ll make do,” he assures me despite just giving away his room to strangers.

I hate the thought of him missing out on the easiness of staying at the resort because he did something nice. “You can stay with me.” The words leave my mouth before I’ve fully thought them through. “Consider it me paying it forward. You did something nice and I’m doing the same.”

He lets out an amused yet charming laugh. “I didn’t do something nice for you, so you’re not paying anything forward.” His grin has me smiling back, not the slightest bit embarrassed by my mistaken phrasing.

“Well, you deserve someone to do something kind for you, so let me.”

He stares at me, those hazel eyes swirling with mesmerizing shades of green and brown, wide in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

No, I’m not. Too late, my thoughts turn rational. Sharing my private space with a man I fantasize about is a horrible idea, but I meant the offer and I won’t take it back.

“Of course I’m sure. It doesn’t have to be weird. We’re both here for Ashley and Eric and you need to be around if they need us just like I do.” Besides, I booked a room with two double beds, thinking I was staying with my friend, Cole.

“Thanks, Kaylee. I really appreciate it.” His easy smile is full of warmth.

A couple had walked around us to check in, and we wait for them to finish. Soon it’s our turn to step up to the woman behind the desk. “Kaylee Martin,” I tell her, handing over my license and credit card, and explain we’re going to be sharing the room.

Before the receptionist can reply, a woman with two young children inserts herself too close to me and begs for just one second of the clerk’s time. One second turns into almost five minutes, but she finally leaves.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman tells me. “It’s crazy today.” She taps on her keyboard a few more times and hands me a folio with two keys for the room. I hand one to Tristan and my skin tingles with awareness where our fingers brush.

I force an unaffected smile and grab my suitcase.

Before I can walk to the elevator, Tristan takes the handle, winks, causing flutters to rise in my stomach, and gestures for me to go ahead of him.

As I make my way, I realize it’s going to be a long weekend sharing a room with this man.

It’s going to be an even longer one than I imagined because now I’m in my hotel room, I’m staring at one lone bed and I groan.