The Roche Hotel (Sweet Romantic Comedy): Season Two by Mysti Parker

Author:Mysti Parker [Parker, Mysti]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2015-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

The Roche Hotel #17

Snowplows Are a Girl’s Best Friend

Snow is piled up in mini-mountains all across the parking lot. Thank God for snow plows. I’m standing at the window in Room 10, watching our hero plowman clear the path to freedom so I can get away from Nick for a few hours. Henry’s sleeping peacefully on his back, one hand up over his head. His clothes are scattered across the floor with mine.

I didn’t think it could be possible for him to look any more handsome, but he’s plumb beautiful. If a modern Michelangelo had needed a model for David, he’d have hired Henry. Of course the hotel’s David is now headless, though I did see Jerry with a caulking gun and a tube of industrial strength glue before I retired for the night. David may be resurrected after all.

At least Nick had offered to man the front desk so I could get some sleep. If I didn’t know him better, I’d think that was a chivalrous gesture, but Nick doesn’t do chivalrous. Nick does what benefits Nick. He’s a brownnoser, all right, and entirely too ambitious. He’ll be gunning for Richard’s job before long. He wants me back, too, not because he loves me, that much I know. But, because he thinks I belong to Henry.

The joke’s on him, because I’m not even sure where I belong yet. After last night’s text from Henry’s ex, I’m still uneasy, not to mention self-conscious. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to cut back on the donuts.

A pair of arms slides around my waist, startling a gasp from me.

“Man, I’m glad to see him,” Henry says sleepily as he watches the miracle of snow removal.

“No kidding.”

“You’re up early—why don’t you sleep a little while longer?”

“What time is it?”

“Six o’clock. Thanks for keeping me company.” He hugs me tighter and kisses my bare shoulder. “I love you.”

The kiss and his whispered declaration stop my heart for a second. He’s told me that a couple times before. I have yet to say it back. The words sound great in my head, along with a Sound of Music frolic along a mountainside, running with wild abandon into Henry’s waiting arms. But this is reality, where my ex-husband and Henry’s ex-fiancée, a barely-making-ends-meet job and a mother in a nursing home are enough to stifle the L word until I’m sure it won’t blow up in my face.

Thankfully the desk buzzes, or rather, Henry’s cell, saving me from the uncomfortable silence. It’s “Hermann’s Bakery” on the ID.

Henry lets me go with a sigh and picks up the phone. “Yeah, Pop. Yeah, I’m still at the Roche. The snow plow’s come through. How’s it looking around there? OK, I’ll be there in a half hour.”

He puts the phone down and retrieves his pants, sliding into them. Such a shame—he looks amazing in Levis, but he’s completely drool-worthy without them.

“You sure that wasn’t Anne?” I ask as Henry slips on his shirt. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I gesture him to come closer so I can button it for him…slowly.

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