Flame (Fire on the Mountain #2) by Erin Noelle

Author:Erin Noelle [Noelle, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0137VCY8O
Published: 2015-08-05T23:00:00+00:00

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 27

SWIPING THE HOTEL KEY CARD across the magnetic reader, the green dot on the lock lights up, and I swing open the door to get my first look at home for the next five days. The suite at the trendy W Hotel in the French Quarter appears to be pretty fucking nice . . . that is, what I can see of it.

The couch in the corner is covered in a shitload of shopping bags, assorted colors and sizes, from what looks like every store in a fifty-mile radius. The small dining table is hidden by a leftover room service tray and an empty bottle of wine; the unused glasses were apparently not necessary. And strewn across the rumpled bed covers are Dakota’s purse, duffel bag, and phone, as well as several magazines. It appears that my little Sunshine has made herself quite comfortable while I was out at the track, which makes me unexpectedly happy. I like seeing all her shit everywhere. I like that she is who she is with me. Unapologetically.

I continue to move forward into the suite before I let that thought scare the shit out of me.

As I enter the bedroom portion of the suite, the first thing I hear is the hum of running water in the bathroom, and my first thought is, Hell yeah, let’s conserve water! But before I can barrel in there and rip my clothes off, Dakota begins the worst rendition of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’” I’ve ever heard in my life.

Choking back my laughter, I stand outside the door for several minutes and listen to her butcher one of the best driving songs ever. It’s bad. So terribly bad. Part of me is tempted to record it. You never know when good material like that can be handy, but I can’t pull myself away.

With tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks, I hold my gut and lean on the doorframe for balance, eavesdropping for the entire performance, beginning to end. Finally, after she belts out the final terribly-off-key lyric, I’m able to calm down a little. Though, I’m now well aware she’ll be the first thing I think of anytime I hear that song.

The list is growing. The color yellow. Anything Incredible Hulk. Massages. Body shots. Nipple rings. Ghost-hunting. Hot air balloons. Dragons. The roofs of buses. And now “Free Fallin’”. She’s ruining me a little more each day.

Fucking hell. I’m starting to sound like Gunner’s pussy-whipped ass.

The water abruptly turns off and I jump backward at least a foot, thankful she didn’t see my guilty-as-fuck reaction. Quickly scooting away from the door, I fling open my suitcase and pretend to be unpacking my stuff as she emerges from the steamy bathroom.

“Oh hey, Hulk. I didn’t hear you come in.” Her mouth curls up in an impish grin when she sees me, probably assuming I’ve been out here thinking about her naked in the shower. “Why didn’t you come in and join me?”

I give her my best innocent boy look, deciding to wait a while before I burst her bubble about what I heard.

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