“Somewhere. Anywhere.” I laugh and turn in my chair to gain a tad bit of distance from him because, for some reason, my fingers itch to reach out and touch him. It’s the oddest thought, but there’s something about him that makes me want to see if he’s real.

I definitely need a drink.

Or sex to get it out of my system.

Because it’s not normal to want to touch a man you’ve never met before.

“And why’s that?”

“I hate the snow.”

“Troublesome when you live in Illinois.” He takes a seat on the stool beside me. “Chicago, I presume?”

“I needed to get away from the city,” I continue, ignoring his sarcastic remark, and shake my head. “Somewhere where I could concentrate and feel inspired.”

And the minute the words are out, I feel like an idiot. Or rather, I feel like I sound like an idiot.

“Inspired for what?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

That grin of his returns. “Come on now. Don’t be embarrassed. We all need inspiration from time to time. The question is, what do you need to be inspired for?”

“A lot of things,” I deadpan, not willing to explain it to him nor wanting the attention that comes with explaining that I write romance. Something that is always met with a smartass comment and a roll of the eyes because it’s not considered real literature.

And frankly, I’m not in the mood.

“So, is it true? Are you giving the state trooper kickbacks from all the hotel rooms you book?”

Saint angles his head to the side and studies me for a beat. Just about when I want to look away, he says, “It’s probably best if you don’t run off the one man who can find you a place to stay in this town.”

My ears perk up at the comment. “You said there were no vacancies.”

“There aren’t.” He lifts a hand to someone who calls his name in greeting. “But I happen to know someone who just might be willing to rent a room to you for the night.”

“Really?” I ask, sitting a little straighter.

He nods. “He’s a decent guy—for the most part.” He rises from his seat. “Let me check and see. Give me a few.” He takes a step, so I get a glimpse of his very fine backside hugged by those jeans of his.

3

Harley

“So, this is it,” Saint says as he holds his hand out as if he’s Vanna White to showcase the “room” for rent.

The inside of what could easily be called a gingerbread cottage on the outside is modern inside. White cabinets line a small kitchenette, and a brown leather couch sits beside a lit fire. The bedroom with en suite bathroom is just off the living space, complete with a pillow-covered, king-sized bed.