“I’m at reception. What room are you in?”
I did not want Hank in my room. I wanted Hank nowhere near my room. In fact, Hank was already nearer to my room than I ever wanted him to be.
“I’l come down.”
He ignored me.
“What room are you in?” he repeated.
“I’l be right down,” I said.
His voice dropped low. “Sunshine, I’m gonna ask one more time. What room are you in?”
His voice shivered through me.
“Three thirty-three,” I replied.
Disconnect.
I put the cel back to my ear, “Ohmigod, ohmigod,” I said to Jet.
She was laughing. “Word of advice?” she offered.
“Anything.”
“Don’t fight it.”
Shit.
“Jet… there are things…” I stopped. Then I started again, “I can’t –”
She interrupted me. “I can’t either but I real y don’t need to because Eddie can. It, like, totally freaks me out,” she confided.
“Eddie adores you. I could tel that the minute I saw you two, and Uncle Tex said so,” I said to her.
“Yeah. I’m beginning to believe it. It stil , like, total y freaks me out.”
There was a knock on the door. My eyes swung to the door and I stared at it.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod,” I chanted.
Jet laughed again. “Get the door.”
I nodded, got off the bed and walked to the door. Then, to focus on something, anything that was not what was behind the door, I said, “Uncle Tex is taking your Mom out tonight.”
“I know,” she replied. “That works out, we could be related.”
I knew in an instant I’d like that.
I opened the door and looked at Hank.
He smiled at me.
My knees went weak and I wasn’t thinking about anything but Hank.
“Gotta go,” I said to Jet.
“Tel Hank I said hi.”
“Sure.”
She disconnected and I flipped the phone shut.
Hank’s eyes went to the phone.
“Jet,” I told him.
Without a word, he walked forward, even though I was in his way.
his way.
He seemed bigger than I remembered, tal er, broader of shoulder. His presence seemed to invade the room. He was wearing a black leather jacket, a dark gray turtleneck sweater, jeans and black boots.
He looked fantastic.
I quickly moved out of his way, he finished entering and turned. I stood in the door.
“She says hi,” I shared.
He grabbed my arm and pul ed me out of the doorway and then shut the door behind me. I watched the door close and just (barely) stopped myself from screaming again.
“Uncle Tex is going out on a date with her mom tonight,” I kept sharing.
His hand was stil on my arm and now he was pul ing me to him. He stil didn’t say anything.
“If this works out, Jet and I could end up related,” I went on, completely unable to stop talking.
He pul ed me closer, then his hand left my arm and went around my waist. The other hand went to the side of my neck.
“We’l be, like, cousins or something,” I carried on.
His face came toward mine. His lips weren’t smiling but his eyes were.
My lips and eyes weren’t smiling, my body was preparing to have a heart attack.
“Is it cousins? Or would I be her niece? How does that go?” I asked, desperately re-designing my family tree in an effort to avoid what was happening in real time.
“Sunshine?” he said against my mouth.
“Sunshine?” he said against my mouth.
“Yeah?” I breathed.
“Shut up.”
I did.
Then he kissed me.
It was just like the night before, just as serious, just as hot, just as quick to scramble my brain and make me go dizzy.
He lifted his head.
When I could think straight again, I said, “You’re supposed to do that after the date is over.”
“I’m gonna do it then too,” he returned, his arm stil around me, his hand stil at my neck.
Holy cow.
“I’m sorry but you Denver people are nuts. I’ve known you al , like, a day and I just got cal s from Daisy, Al y and Jet.
Tod actual y came over bringing half of Neiman Marcus’s accessory department with him to help me get dressed.
The entire Denver experience is weird. Beyond weird.
Denver is “The Twilight Zone,” I told him.
“We’re friendly.”
“You can say that again.”
He ignored my comment and asked, “You hungry?” I wasn’t hungry, I’d eaten a mountain of food only a few hours before.
If I said no, I wasn’t certain what my options were and since we were in a room that consisted mainly of furniture on which a girl could only find trouble (or, in my case, more trouble), I lied.
“Starving.”
It was then, the smile in his eyes hit his mouth.
Holy cow.
My phone rang.
“Shit!” I cried, pul ing out of his arms and lifting the phone to look at it. “Who could it be now? It has to be Indy.” I stopped talking when Hank plucked the phone out of my hand, flipped it open and put it to his ear.
I stared at him in disbelief.