The Sweetest Thing (25 page)

Audra Lane strode with manufactured confidence to the vacation rental cabins’ main desk and faced the man she thought was the registration clerk. She curled her bare toes against the warm polished wood flooring and took a deep breath.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m wearing this trash bag.”

“Yes.”

That was it. That single syllable delivered without inflection or emotion in a soft, bluesy baritone.

Audra’s swagger stalled. She tugged her right earlobe.

Maybe that was his way. His manner wasn’t unwelcoming. It was just spare. He’d been the same when she’d checked into the rental cabins in Where-the-Heck-Am-I, Ohio, less than an hour earlier.

In fact, the entire registration area was just as spartan as the clerk. Despite the large picture windows, the room seemed dark and cheerless in the middle of this bright summer morning. There weren’t chairs inviting guests to relax or corner tables with engaging information about the nearby town. It didn’t even offer a coffee station. Nothing about the room said,
Welcome! We’re glad you’re here.
There were only bare oak walls, bare oak floors, and a tight-lipped clerk.

Audra pushed her questions about the room’s lack of ambiance to the back of her mind and addressed her primary concern.

She wiped her sweaty palms on her black plastic makeshift minidress. “I’d left some of my toiletries in my rental car. I thought I could just step into the attached garage to get them, but the door shut behind me. Luckily, I found a box of trash bags on a shelf.”

She stopped. Her face flamed. If he hadn’t suspected before, he now knew beyond a doubt that she was butt naked under this bag.

She’d ripped a large hole on the bottom and smaller ones on either side of the bag for a crude little black dress, which on her five-seven frame was
very
little.

Audra gave him a hard look, but his almond-shaped onyx eyes remained steady on hers. He didn’t offer even a flicker of reaction. His eyes were really quite striking, and the only part of his face she could make out. When he’d checked her into the rental, she’d been too tired after her flight from California to notice his deep sienna features were half hidden by a thick, unkempt beard. His dark brown hair was twisted into tattered, uneven braids. They hung above broad shoulders clothed in a short-sleeved dark blue T-shirt. But his eyes . . . they were so dark, so direct, and so wounded. A poet’s eyes.

How could the cabins’ owner allow his staff to come to work looking so disheveled, especially an employee who worked the front desk? Did the clerk think he looked intimidating? Well, she’d been born and raised in Los Angeles. He’d have to try harder.

Without a word, the clerk turned and unlocked the cabinet on the wall behind him. He chose a key from a multitude of options and pulled a document from the credenza.

“Sign this.” He handed the paper to her.

The form stated she acknowledged receipt of her cabin’s spare key and would return it promptly. Audra signed it with relief. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave her the key.

A smile spread across her mouth and chased away her discomfort. Audra closed her hand around the key and raised her gaze to his. “I don’t know your name.”

“Jack.”

“Hi, Jack. I’m Au . . . Penny. Penny Lane.” When he didn’t respond, she continued talking. “Thanks again for the spare key. I’ll bring it right back.”

“No rush.”

“Thank you.” Audra turned on her bare heels and hurried from the main cabin. That had been easy—relatively speaking. At times, she’d even forgotten she was wearing a garbage bag and nothing else. It helped that Jack hadn’t looked at her with mockery or scorn. He’d been very professional. Bless him!