A Dash of Romance Page 2

  CHAPTER THREE

  Maggie

  “I realize that,” I said. “And I’m really grateful. I guess that’s all I’m trying to say.”

  I reached into my lap and fiddled with my napkin. The man sitting across the table was easily over six feet tall. He was broader than anyone I’d ever seen up close, and he was covered in tattoos—sleeves down both arms. His hair was dark and cropped close, almost like a buzz-cut.

  I had been apprehensive about this whole arrangement to begin with, but my worry solidified when I saw Liam. As I sat across from him, eating my breakfast and trying to answer his questions at the same time, I tried to figure out how I could get my parents to believe that I had ended up with him.

  I mean, he wasn’t bad-looking. In fact, when you got down to it, he was pretty hot. But he was definitely not my type. My type would probably wear a sweater vest. Not that I even knew for sure. I guess that’s why I got so defensive when he acted so surprised that I write romance. How many romance writers don’t even know who their ideal partner is?

  I spent the entire meal in a sweat, trying to figure out how to bring up the whole ‘living together’ thing. It was a crazy plan, but it was the only way to get my parents off my back. I longed for the days when they were warning me not to spend the night with a guy. The past few years had been all about, ‘when are you going to settle down with someone?’ Talk about mixed messages.

  The relief I felt when he agreed so easily set me at ease. The more I thought about it, the more Liam looked like a great choice after all. He had a solid, respectable career and no divorces. Maybe his appearance would be so off-putting to my parents they’d either flee or be so disappointed in me they gave up altogether.

  “Your brother tells me you’re working at The Elway,” he said, reaching for the bill.

  “Yeah. Housekeeping. I can get that. I ate more than you did,” I said.

  “Nah, don’t sweat it.” He pulled out his wallet and left a twenty on the table.

  “So, when are you, um, free to maybe talk, or meet, you know? So we can, uh, get to know each other?” I asked.

  A slow, lazy smile spread across his face. It made me uneasy as he studied me.

  “Why don’t you send me your book, and when I finish reading, I’ll text you and we’ll set something up.”

  I laughed and stood up, grabbing my bag.

  “Sure. That sounds great.”

  He stood and looked me up and down. I was a good six inches shorter than he was, my frame much tinier. We looked ridiculous standing there together, him in black and tattoos, me looking like a college student. I shifted from one foot to another, unsure what to do. I reached out my hand again, awkwardly. He laughed and pulled me in for a hug.

  “Better get used to a little PDA,” he whispered before slapping me lightly on the back and walking out the front door.

  *

  A couple of days later, I was getting room 325 ready for check-in when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a text message from Tammy at reception.

  Your boyfriend’s looking for you. I sent him up to the third floor. He’s HOT!!!

  My boyfriend? I panicked for a moment, checking my reflection in the mirror. I was neat, but I looked like a maid. What the hell was Liam doing here? And why was he calling himself my boyfriend?

  I heard him long before I saw him down the hall, calling out my name. I rushed to the door and stuck my head out, putting up my finger in the universal sign for shut the fuck up. He broke into a jog when he saw me, grabbing my elbow and steering me back into the room.

  “What are you doing here? And why did you tell Tammy you’re my boyfriend?”

  “Getting into character. But that’s beside the point.”

  I stared at him.

  “What’s the point?”

  He grabbed me by both shoulders and looked straight into my eyes.

  “Where’s the sex?”

  I just stood there, blinking.

  He let go of me and started to pace, throwing his hands up in air every so often as he spoke, emphasizing his frustration.

  “I mean, we’ve got a guy and a girl, they’re clearly hot for each other, and every time something’s about to go down, the goddamn door closes. What the fuck is up with that?”

  I cleared my throat.

  “Well, I write clean romance.”

  “Who the fuck reads clean romance?” he hissed. “Women read this shit to get off, don’t they? It’s lady porn.”

  I bristled at his description and was about to argue with him when I decided there was no point. He obviously wouldn’t get it.

  “Some people prefer clean romance. Sex isn’t for everyone.”

  “Sex is for everyone,” he roared, incredulous.

  “It’s not for me.”

  He stopped pacing and his jaw dropped to the floor. Gobsmacked was the only expression that described him at that moment.

  “You’ve never had sex?” he whispered.

  “Of course I have!” I replied, indignant. “I just don’t particularly enjoy it.”

  He sat down heavily on the bed. I silently cursed the fact I’d have to redo the bedspread but figured that was small potatoes in the relative scheme of things. He patted the space beside him.

  “Sit. I need you to explain this to me.”

  I walked over to the door and glanced out the hall, closing the door partway as I walked back to join him on the bed.

  “What’s there to explain?” I said. “Some people like sex, some people don’t. I fall into the latter camp.”

  He shook his head.

  “I don’t get it. Are you, like, asexual or something?”

  I thought about it.

  “No. Sex just doesn’t do it for me. In fact, I really don’t see what all the fuss is about. I’m pretty convinced that most women lie about their sexual experiences. This is why I write clean romance. I know there are women out there who don’t enjoy reading about sex because I’m one of them.”

  Liam looked at me, then looked out across the room, staring at our reflections in the mirror over the dresser.

  “So you’re telling me I’m about to fake date a woman who hates men.”

  “I do not hate men.”

  “I’ll have to take your word on that.” He paused. “Your parents are going to buy this?”

  “I hope so.”

  He reached out to take my hand and I pulled back, shocked.

  “Yeah, I don’t think they’re going to buy this.”

  He turned towards me, tucking one long leg up underneath him as he stared into my eyes.

  “Here’s the thing. I made a vow to your brother not to touch you—”

  Mortified, I started to interrupt him, but he put his hand out to stop me.

  “I’m telling you this so you know you don’t have to worry. I am not going to make a move on you. I promise. Especially after that confession. But I am going to have to do things when your parents are around.”

  “Like what kind of things?”

  He reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. Again, I jumped back.

  “Things like that,” he said. “I’m going to hold your hand. I’m going to kiss you. You want your parents to believe we’re living together? We’re going to have to look like we’re intimate.”

  I took a deep breath. This was something I hadn’t considered.

  “If this is going to work, you’re going to have to get comfortable with me. So screw these phone conversations you had in mind. We’ve got a few weeks? Let’s take some walks in public. Go out to eat together. You’ll learn I’m not a monster, and when I go to take your hand, you’ll let me.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Liam

  A couple of days later, I stopped by the hotel to pick Maggie up from work. I had a lull in the afternoon and I told Adam I had a few errands to run.

  I caught her by the reception desk, and she looked surprised to see me. I doubted my plan, unsure why I was putti
ng any effort into this. All I had to do was show up.

  The woman at reception eyed me up and down before smiling. I smiled back, politely, but she definitely wasn’t my type. Besides, Maggie.

  “Bye, Mags. See you tomorrow,” she called as we turned to leave.

  I placed my hand on the small of Maggie’s back, and while I felt her stiffen, she didn’t cringe or shy away. Progress. As we exited onto the sidewalk, I turned to her.

  “They call you Mags?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it’s my nickname. Why?”

  I shook my head.

  “Doesn’t suit you. I’ll come up with something better.”

  She stopped and stared at me.

  “It doesn’t suit me?”

  “Nope. Come, let’s go. I don’t have much time.”

  I led her across the street, through the town square, and towards a hiking path that cut a flat trail through the forest, leading to the public beach. She kept up my quick pace, but I slowed as we approached the trailhead.

  “Let’s talk about your book,” I said.

  She blushed and covered her face with both hands. I laughed.

  “Do we have to?” she murmured.

  “Yes. We need to get comfortable talking to each other, and the novel is neutral territory.”

  She dropped her hands and looked at me.

  “For you, maybe.”

  “Fair enough. But to be honest, I’ve never read a book like that before. I want to talk about it. Like, is this something women are really into? All this romance and shit? I mean, isn’t it enough that a guy is an animal in bed?”

  She stared at me dumbly.

  “Uh, no.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because sex isn’t everything. A woman wants to feel loved, appreciated, respected. Besides, you have to get to the sex, don’t you?”

  “I know how to get to the sex.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes.

  “Haven’t you ever longed for anything more meaningful?”

  “Nope.”

  I started walking again and after a moment she raced to catch up.

  “What is it?” she asked. “I can tell you want to say something else.”

  “I do, but I don’t know how to say it without hurting your feelings.”

  She snorted.

  “I think we’re past that.”

  “When you describe the first kiss, well, it’s not great. I could tell you’d never been well-kissed.”

  The smile dropped from her face and she studied me. We stopped walking again and faced each other.

  “So kiss me,” she said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “For research, you know. You must be quite good at it. Kiss me and I’ll know how to write about it.”

  The request shocked the hell out of me.

  “No,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want to. Listen, I told you I’d be affectionate in front of your parents, but that’s it. I’m not some research subject.”

  She looked out towards the water. There was one lone fishing boat out, rocking with the waves up against the horizon.

  “So describe it to me,” she said softly.

  “Describe it to you?” I asked, dubious.

  “Yes. Describe the experience of being kissed. Or of kissing someone. What do you consider the perfect kiss?”

  I thought about it for a few minutes before answering her.

  “Well, kisses fall into different categories. There are urgent kisses, long make-out sessions, fucking panicked kisses… Sometimes they’re a pit stop, sometimes they’re the final destination. But my favourite kind starts out slow, gentle. Waiting to see if you’ll melt against each other before deepening the kiss. And then it kind of picks up. You get into it. You get turned on. The kiss takes on a life of its own.”

  I glanced over at her and she looked thoughtful, so I continued.

  “I remember when I was a teenager and making out was the bomb. I knew I wasn’t getting any further, so I put everything into those make-out sessions. But then you move on, you get to first base, then second, then third, and by the time you know it, you’re having sex. And you mistakenly believe that each step is better than the last, so you never really go back to just making out. I’d love that, actually—to go back to just making out. Start again.”

  I paused for a moment, realizing I’d told her something I’d never even articulated for myself before. I checked for her reaction, but her expression was blank. I cleared my throat, sheepish grin on my face.

  “That was good, uh, research. Thanks,” she said.

  “No problem,” I said. “Listen. I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  She stood up, stumbling over the log. She had this clumsy streak that I found amusing. Almost charming. I waited until she sorted herself out, then stood up, and together we headed back into the woods.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Maggie

  I walked slowly back to my rented cottage, reflecting on my conversation with Liam. His description of a kiss had left me feeling unsettled. The kisses I’d experienced had been rushed, sloppy, or chaste. I had felt none of that magic he’d described, no melting. Just nervous hands, cold lips, and a firm insistence.

  When I got home, there was a parcel waiting outside my door. I picked it up and carried it inside, curious, as I hadn’t ordered anything recently. I opened it up and pulled out a folded note. It was from my parents: Just sending a few advanced supplies. So we won’t be a bother during our visit.

  I rifled through the package, finding bottles of meal supplements, vitamins, and two jars of my father’s favourite marmalade. I closed the whole thing and shoved it under the kitchen island. I still had some time before their arrival. I didn’t need constant reminders every time I opened the fridge or pantry.

  I whipped up an easy dinner and sat down at my computer to start my second job. I stared at the screen, but no words would come. Discouraged, I walked to the closet and pulled out a jigsaw puzzle, setting it on the dining room table. Whenever I was blocked, it was the best way to clear my mind. And for the first time since arriving in Mountain Valley, I was blocked.

  *

  “So that boyfriend of yours, he’s really cute. How’d you meet?”

  I was standing at reception while I waited for Tammy to finish up. We had fallen into the habit of walking home together after work. She had not stopped questioning me about Liam since the moment he walked into the hotel.

  Over the past two weeks, he’d come by often during his afternoon break to take a walk. I could tell she was perplexed by the whole situation, so I decided to put her out of her misery.

  “My brother introduced us.”

  She whistled.

  “That’s some brother you’ve got. Mine would issue a restraining order against a guy like that.”

  I smiled.

  “He’s okay. Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

  “Oh, I’m not. But it is Liam Grayson. I’ve done my research.”

  Shit.

  “Okay, Tammy. Here’s the deal. We’re not actually dating.”

  “What?” She grabbed her purse before taking my elbow to guide me towards the door. “What do you mean? He’s been here almost every day.”

  As we walked through the streets, I explained the situation to her, frankly grateful to have a friend I could confide in. She listened, fascinated, and was silent for a few minutes before responding.

  “That’s a pretty stupid plan. But I hope you’re at least going to fuck him.”

  I laughed out loud.

  “Not part of the agreement,” I said.

  “Shame.”

  I turned to her, considering my words carefully before speaking.

  “You really think so?”

  “Hell, yeah. Look at that man. He’s hot, he knows his way around a kitchen, and I bet you he’s a beast between the sheets.”

  “And that’s enough
for you?”

  Tammy stopped walking, taking me by the shoulders and shaking me lightly.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. I just…where’s the romance?”

  “Ah, you’re one of those. You want to be wooed and loved. Don’t you see the beauty in a one-night stand? Or in your case, a six-night stand? This is like a gift, being served up to you on a silver platter.”

  “I’m not interested,” I said.

  “How is that even possible? You’ve seen him, right? Like, you actually look at him when you’re together? Have you seen the size of his hands? Good lord, what those hands could do—”

  Tammy made the hand signals for exploding bombs by the side of her head.

  “Frankly, I just don’t see the fuss.”

  “What? With him?” she asked. “He’s not your type?”

  “No, not with him. With sex, in general.”

  Tammy stopped so fast she almost fell over.

  “Excuse me?”

  I sighed, getting ready to explain myself once again.

  “I guess I’m just not the most sexual of people. Frankly, I can’t understand what you see in it.”

  Tammy shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. I realized I was espousing an unpopular opinion, but I stood by it and was determined not to be ashamed of it.

  “You just haven’t had good sex,” she said. “Get back to me when this little experiment is over.”

  “I told you already, that’s not part of the arrangement.”

  “Uh, huh. Sure. Listen, this is me. You’re off tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah, my folks arrive in the afternoon.”

  “Okay. Good luck. Keep me posted.”

  *

  The next morning, I got up early, my stomach in knots. There was nothing left for me to do. I’d scrubbed the house from top to bottom, put fresh flowers in the guest room, and stocked the pantry full of my parents’ supplements. I’d even emptied a drawer in my dresser for Liam and moved the bed aside so I’d have more space on the floor.

  The bell rang at ten, and I tried to quell the butterflies that had suddenly taken flight in my belly. I opened the door and Liam stood there, suitcase in hand, shit-eating grin on his face.