Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
TINSLEY
When I hear the loud steps coming up the stairs, I make a mad dash toward the bed and roll under it.
Crap, I should have fixed the chair. It’s still lying on its side from when I’d slipped off it.
I was trying to check on top of the hutch for clues.
If I were being sneaky and was extremely tall, that would be the perfect place to hide things.
There hadn’t been anything but a light layer of dust.
My heart starts to race. I’m not sure if it’s the thrill of being caught or the fact I’m about to come face-to-face with Hottie McLawyer. This must be what Katherine experienced when I forced her to do the haunted corn maze with me every year over in Hollowsville.
I hear the click of the lock before it swings open, and I watch two very expensive, shiny black shoes step into the room.
If anyone should be slipping on their ass, it's him! Those shoes are ridiculous in this town, just like him. They don’t belong, and I glare at them, but the thought doesn’t sit well in my mind.
Okay, I'm reaching for shit to make fun of him for, but I'm mildly, okay, maybe highly panicking.
I watch him walk farther into the room. A second later, I see Katherine's fuzzy boots enter behind him.
Those things are ridiculous too. They're cute, but the bottoms have no tracks, and it's hard enough for her to walk with good shoes as it is.
He walks over to the chair, picking it up. “Told you, this place is haunted,” Katherine tells him. If that were true, she’d be nowhere near it.
“Then I guess I won’t be sleeping alone tonight.” I watch as he walks across the room and then back. I stick my tongue out at him, not caring if he can’t see it. It makes me feel marginally better. I don’t want to think about him in bed with anyone. I bet it’s a new girl each night.
Hmm, that gives me an idea. I need to start digging into his personal life. First, I need to get his name. I’m sure Betty has it. I can warn all the women in his life. I’d be doing them a favor.
“Is there anything else you need, Ms. Katherine?”
“The room is nice.” Katherine walks over to the hutch and opens it. I can picture her poking her head inside, thinking I’m there and not being subtle at all.
“I’m sure Betty could get you one.”
“Nah, this place stays pretty booked up year-round.” Katherine pauses. “You get what I’m saying? Putting down for you.”
“I honestly don’t,” he responds, and that makes two of us. I press my lips firmly together to fight my laughter. I can only imagine how panicked Katherine is, and when she gets like this, she’s very unpredictable.
"Well, then, I guess I'll be leaving, Mr. Pierce.
" She starts to walk toward the door. "After I use the bathroom!
" She bolts across the room like he's about to tackle her.
He doesn't need to. Katherine trips over something, most likely her own two feet, and down she goes.
I inwardly cringe. "Ope," Katherine huffs, and her head turns and our eyes lock.
"Are you okay?" he asks her.
"Ah, yeah, but maybe you could walk me back downstairs. I’m feeling a little unsteady.” Katherine sits up before she stands. "I could trip on the stairs."
"I think you can manage." His response takes me by surprise. What a jerk! She could really be hurt. I mean, she’s not, but he doesn’t know that.
"You ah—" She shifts on her feet, and I see her in my mind wringing her hands together. "Turn-down service. Yes, Betty needs to turn down the bedding."
“I can manage turning down my bed like you can manage getting down the stairs,” he tells her.
If this was Biff, he would be trying to get into her pants, so I’ll give him credit for that. I’d murder them both. Not out of jealousy. No way. That Katherine would lower her standards, and for him being a horndog. Yes, that’s the reason for the murders.
“But you get a little heart chocolate on your pillow.”
“Not hungry.” He walks over to the door, opening it.
“There is something wrong with you,” she accuses him when she gets to the door.
“With me?” A low chuckle leaves him. I’ll throat punch him. I know what his laugh is implying. There very likely is something wrong with Katherine, but only I can say that shit.
“Who doesn’t want chocolate?” It comes out sounding like an accusation.
“Oh, I favor more on the spicy side.”
“Salty,” she corrects him. “It’s salty or sweet.”
“Well, it’s now spicy and then sweet. And I suppose I do enjoy a bit of both.”
I'm not sure if I'm following this conversation, but it sounds dirty and not directed at Katherine. See, Katherine was right: There is something wrong with him.
“So then you do want a chocolate!”
“I have a call to make, if you don’t mind.”
“What if I do mind?” The room grows quiet, and it stretches. “Okay, yeah, bye.” Katherine’s feet spin around, and she heads out the door. He closes it behind her, the click of the lock loud. Did he really spook her out of the room with silence? Interesting.
You’re on your own, kid. I silently tell myself.
Oh shit. Will I be here all night? I’ll have to pee at some point. My thoughts are quickly interrupted when I hear Mr. Hottie start moving around. I almost die when I see a shirt hit the ground and watch as he takes off his shoes.
A belt drops to the floor next with a loud thud. Holy crap! What if he starts masturbating? What is wrong with me, and why is that my first thought?
Go to the bathroom and close the door, I repeat like a prayer in my mind, but he doesn’t. He roams around the room. What the hell can he be doing? I almost let out a sigh of relief when I see him head toward the bathroom, but the barbarian leaves the door open, and I hear the water come on.
Then I see the door push partly closed. I wait for a few beats to make sure he's in the shower before I roll out from under the bed and quickly jump to my feet.
I don't make it but a few steps before the door swings open, and I get a view of Pierce's bare chest and arms in their full glory.
His slacks are partly undone, showing the top of his boxer briefs.
The man is cut; I mean, I could tell that with his shirt on, but with it off, you can see all the fine hard lines of his muscles. Even his forearms have them, but it's the tattoos that lead up and onto his chest and down. A few on his sides as well.
The tattoos are impressive pieces of art, but I would never admit that to him, nor will I ask to get a closer look. We stare at each other, neither of us saying a word. Is he taller? I could swear he's taller.
Well, if no one is going to say anything, I continue on my pursuit to the door. "Tinsley," my name comes out gruff in a low growl of warning, and I freeze.
"Don't threaten me."
"It's a threat to say your name?" I blink a few times and turn around in a full circle slowly.
"Where am I?"
"It appears to me you're in my room, stalking me." My mouth drops open. He did not say that.
"Stalking you!" I hiss. "You're the one in my town."
"So you do know where you are." I press my lips together.
"I don't have time for this." I march toward the door, but he steps in my path. "Beware that I know a hundred and two ways to kill a man, and I can make most of them appear like an accident." He smirks, and I fight the urge to not stomp on his foot and try to make another go for the door.
"I bet this town would help you cover for the others."
"Yes."
"You broke into my room."
"This is Betty's room."
"That's not how that works."
"You don't own it." I'm grasping at straws here.
"A hotel room is considered a temporary residence, affording you the same protections as one. That includes the rights against unreasonable searches and seizures." Would he really push to press charges on me? Would Sheriff Hudson arrest me?
“Don’t try to scare me with your law degree.” There, I told him. He has a lot of nerve trying to use all of that legal mumbo jumbo on me.
"I wasn't trying to scare you. I was simply making a point." I narrow my eyes on him. I hate that I have to drop my head so far back to stare up at him.
“I’m getting your point real freaking clear. There is only one reason you’d be here.”
“And why do you think I’m here?”
I roll my eyes at him. “This is a small town. I’ve already heard about your plans.” Why play these games? He’s here on Biff’s behalf to see about building a resort.
“Please enlighten me, and I won’t report you for breaking and entering.”
“I didn’t break anything.” I hold up two fingers and pinch them close together. “But I’m this close.” My threat only makes the smirk grow to a full smile.
"You want to put your hands on me, spitfire?"
"No." Yes, I totally do, but I’ll never admit it. Instead I step back from being far too close to him for my own good. His rich, woodsy smell is more alluring than it should be. Why does City Boy smell like wood?
"You sure about that?"
"Not in the way you're implying."
"I wasn't implying anything." Why am I having this battle of words with him? And why do my eyes keep dropping to his mouth?
"Fire! Everyone out." I hear Katherine shout from outside the door.
"I need to go."
"I don't want you to go." His tone drops. "I don't think you want to go either." Is he flirting with me? A flutter lights in my chest.
"Fire! Can no one hear in there?" Katherine pounds on the door. “We have to evacuate.”
"I don't know what game you're playing, but I want nothing to do with you. You're here on Biff's behalf to build a stupid commercial resort and try to tarnish our home." His brows rise like my comment surprises him. "Now move." I snap at him this time. Any playfulness I had is gone.
I'm more annoyed with myself than anything. My attraction to this man is bullshit. A wave of emotions pushes down on me. The first man I have a real attraction to has come to try and ruin what I love most. New Hope is my life, my whole world.
"Tinsley—"
"Please move." My voice cracks, and he lets me push past him. I yank open the door to a wide-eyed Katherine, panic written all over her face.
"Oh noes," she says dramatically. "Are you sleepwalking again?"
"The jig is up," I tell her. "Let's go." I tug her with me, fighting the urge to peek back over my shoulder at Pierce. Pretty sure he knew I was under that bed the whole time.
I need a new plan. What that plan is I haven't a clue, but I've never let that or anything stop me before. One way or another, I'll bring Pierce to his knees.