Total pages in book: 296
Estimated words: 284055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1420(@200wpm)___ 1136(@250wpm)___ 947(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 284055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1420(@200wpm)___ 1136(@250wpm)___ 947(@300wpm)
We deplane and retrieve our suitcases before taking the shuttle to the resort we’ll be staying at. I actually feel a lot better since sucking down those ibuprofen and getting in a short nap, so now I can’t wait to get settled and explore the city and beaches.
As we get closer to the resort, I’m completely taken aback by the view. Palm trees and tourist shops line both sides of the street. People walk with smiles on their faces as they shop and take photos. They all look so damn happy to be here. I catch glimpses of the clear-blue water behind it all, and as we get closer to the resort, I notice beach chairs and cabanas along the beach. This is just the kind of vacation I need.
The shuttle parks outside of the hotel, and we grab our luggage and step out. As we’re standing in front of the hotel, I look over at the people walking in and out of the hotel, and then over at Dylan and I realize we stick out like a sore thumb. Cowboy hats, boots, and plaid shirts—we’re Texas twins right now in the same getup, and I’m sure our accents aren’t going to do us any favors.
Walking in, we chat about what we want to do tonight and wait in line for reception. Once we’re waved up, we walk up to the woman and greet her with a loud howdy. The corner of her lips tilts up as she eyes our Stetson hats before asking for our information. Dylan gives her his name and slides his ID across the counter. She continues to type on her keyboard, only briefly glancing at the two of us before going back to the screen. As soon as she makes eye contact and hands over Dylan’s ID, I give her a smile and a wink. She tries to hide the blush that hits her cheeks behind the computer screen, but it doesn’t work.
“Mr. Hart, how many room keys would you like?” she asks, chewing on her bottom lip.
I look over at Dylan and whisper, “Wait, did we get separate rooms?”
“About that…” He laughs, then looks back at her. “Two, please.”
The woman clears her throat and slides our room keys across the counter. “All meals and beverages are included with your stay, along with nonmotorized water sports. You do have a couple’s massage that you’ll need to schedule by using this number here,” she says, pointing down at the brochure before placing the keys inside.
Since Dylan thinks this is so damn funny, I decide to play along by wrapping my arm around him and pulling him to my side. “Honey, when would ya like to schedule those? In the morning perhaps?”
Dylan elbows me hard in the side, and I can’t help but laugh. The woman smiles at us sweetly.
“The elevators to your suite are right down the hall to the left. In the morning, breakfast is served from six to ten. If you have questions or need anything, just dial zero.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Dylan and I both say in unison before walking toward the elevator, dragging our luggage behind us.
“This is going to be interesting,” I mumble as we pass guests in their shorts and swimsuit tops.
“You embarrassed that poor girl,” Dylan tells me as we step into the elevator, and I hit the button for our floor.
I shrug, holding the rail as we shoot upward. “She was looking at us like we were real-life cowboy lovers. Thought I’d help her fantasy a little.”
“This is why girls like Mallory threaten your balls,” he teases as we get off the elevator and walk to our room. As soon as we slide our keycard and step inside, I’m shocked to see how large the place is. It’s as big as one of the cabins the ranch hands live in at home. There’s a giant bathroom, TV room with chairs and couches, and a separate room that leads to the bed. The windows lining the wall overlook the ocean, giving us an amazing view of the beach.
I can’t help but laugh when I see a champagne bottle in an ice bucket and red rose petals spread across the bed. There are even towels at the end of the bed folded in a heart shape. “This is a perfect touch; don’t you think, sweetheart?”
Dylan looks at the flower petals and laughs so hard that he nearly chokes.
I pull my phone from my pocket and snap a quick picture.
“Gonna show Jackson what he’s missing out on.” I laugh as I send him a text.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll make him jealous.” He snorts.
Checking the time on my phone and seeing it’s already nearing late afternoon, I ask, “So what if I find a chick I want to bring back to the room?”
Dylan removes his boots and sets his hat on the dresser. “I thought about that, too,” he admits, brushing his fingers through his messy dark hair. “Maybe we come up with a code phrase or something, so we know not to walk in on each other? I’ve decided I’m going to be more like you on this trip.”