Chapter Six
Mia
Noise. Someone is yelling.
“Shhh,” I grumble, burying my head into the pillow.
Still yelling.
“What in the world…?” I roll over, blinking open my eyes to the dim light coming in through the drapes.
Who is yelling? It’s coming from outside.
My heart pauses.
Forbes. Has he found me?
My pulse starts to thrum, setting my body on high alert.
Sitting bolt upright in bed, I listen.
It’s definitely a guy’s voice … but no, it’s not Forbes. I’d know his voice anywhere.
I breathe a sigh of relief, laying back down.
I’m figuring it must be Jordan. I wonder what he’s yelling about.
Glancing over at the clock, I see it’s 10am.
I reach for the glass of water on the bedside cabinet and take a sip. My throat is sore. I went hard on myself last night.
I look down at my right hand – the hand which helps me purge all of my grief and self-loathing. It’s sore and itchy. I rub my finger over the calluses on my knuckles, trying to relieve the itch. They’re caused by the catching of my teeth on my skin; years and years of making myself throw up have caused this scarring.
I’m thinking about getting some cream from my bag to ease the itch when I hear Jordan call out again.
Curiosity gets the better of me, so I climb out of bed and pad my way over to the sliding doors, grabbing my sunglasses on the way and slipping them on.
I pull the drapes back, unlock the door, and step out onto the porch.
The first thing I see is the lake. Guess this why it’s called the Lakeview room. The view is gorgeous.
Jordan yells again, so unexpected and so loud that I nearly jump out of my skin.
He’s a lot closer than I realized.
With a racing heart, I approach the railing and lean over to see what he’s yelling about.
My eyes find Jordan about twenty feet from the where I stand. His back is to me. He’s wearing black work boots, dark blue jeans, and a short-sleeved black t-shirt that shows the defined contours of his shoulders and arms perfectly.
He lifts a hand to his hair. The muscles in his arm flex under his tattoos as he runs his fingers through the dark strands. His hair looks so soft…
An image of me running my fingers through his hair flashes through my mind. I blink myself free.
He turns a little my way, lifting his hands to his mouth, he cups them and yells, what I think is, “Dozer!”
“Everything okay?” I call out.
“Jesus f**kin’ Christ!” He spins on the spot hands clenched by his sides. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry.” I step back from the railing, but keep hold of it. My eyes are trained on his closed fists. “I just, uh, heard you yelling. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.” My mouth is nervous dry, so I moisten my lips with my tongue.
His eyes flicker down to his hands, then back up to me.
I see his hands relax, and he flexes his fingers out. “Sorry, yeah, I uh…” He looks over his shoulder, then back to me. “I can’t find my dog.”
He’s got a dog? I love dogs. Never had one, always wanted one.
“I let him out earlier, and he’s gone. He’s never disappeared like this before. He never strays far from the hotel.”
He sounds really worried.
“You need help looking for him?” The words are out of my mouth before I have a chance to consider them.
Jordan shoves his hands in his back pockets and looks down at his boots. He seems to be contemplating my offer. So am I.
What the hell possessed me to say that?
Jesus, am I that damaged that the thought of spending a little time with this seemingly okay guy to help him find his dog is so bad to comprehend?
Yes. Yes, I absolutely am.
Freeing a hand, Jordan holds his hair back from his face, tilts his head back, and stares up at me. “Sure.” He nods. “If you don’t mind.”
It’s not like I can retract my offer now.
“Of course I don’t mind.” I smile, ignoring the twinge of nerves in my stomach. “Just give me a minute to change and I’ll be right down.”
I retreat back into my room, shutting the sliding door behind me.
Standing still for a moment, I close my eyes and take in a deep, calming breath.
I can do this.
Then I open my eyes and quickly change into jeans and a t-shirt. I give my teeth a brush, slip my feet into my sneakers, run my fingers through my hair to tidy it—the beauty of short hair—and slip my sunglasses back on.
I quickly make my way through reception and out the main entrance. I walk around the hotel and find Jordan a little farther on.
I jog over to him. “Still no luck?”
“No.” He pushes his hair back, revealing his eyes.
Maple syrup. Stunning.
“He never disappears like this,” he reiterates.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him. What’s his name?”
“Dozer.”
Interesting name.
“Where do you want me to look?”
He points to the woods before us. “I’ve looked everywhere else. He wouldn’t normally go in there alone – he’s not real big on the woods, but maybe he was chasing a rabbit or something…” he trails off.
He wants me to go in there? With him.
Anxiety clamps down on my chest like a vice.
There’s something about the solitude of the woods and Jordan combined that isn’t sitting well with me.