Chapter Eleven

Van

Franklin led me upstairs to my room. “It’s right this way, Eddie.” He opened the door on the left and waved me inside. “Make yourself at home, and if there’s anything you need, let me know.”

I looked around and peeked into the attached bathroom before facing him again. Everything about the room was as nice as the five-star hotels I was used to. Only more comfortable and less designer. The toiletries on the bathroom counter were brands beyond what even those hotels provided.

“No, I think everything looks good. I’m sorry to be so much trouble. It’s been a long day.”

“No, you’re fine. Just lie down and close your eyes, maybe even take a quick shower first. I always feel like I need to wash the airplane air off me to relax.” He moved over and opened the window a few inches. “A little breeze can’t hurt either.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I watched him leave and moved over, thinking to shut the window again then stopped. A puff of wind carried the scents of the forest to my nostrils, and my bear relaxed an infinitesimal amount. Unfortunately, Franklin was also right about the shower idea. Now that the freshness of nature was wafting in, the stale recycled air clinging to my hair and skin and clothes was obnoxiously obvious. Add in the drink that I’d spilled—I changed but it had already soaked through my pants—and a shower was more than in order. Luckily I’d brought more clothes than strictly necessary, something I’d learned to do while traveling with the band. Worse things than chai and coffee could end up staining my jeans.

The bathroom was clean and the shower pressure more than adequate after I removed all my clothes and stepped under the spray. The shampoo, conditioner, and body gel were in wall-mounted pumps, and the water as hot as I liked it—which was steaming. By the time I stepped out and wrapped the thick, soft towel around my waist, I was so relaxed, it was all I could do to stay upright long enough to land face-first on the bed.

I hadn’t slept so well in years, and if my stomach’s insistent growls hadn’t broken through the waves of comfort, I’d have snoozed until morning. But I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, denied even the light snacks of business class, and I was going to have to have something in order to continue to rest through the night. Downstairs, five minutes to gobble some of the leftovers from the served meal, and back up here in no time. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t even have to talk to anyone in the process. I’d already been boorish enough to embarrass myself. I had developed an edginess around strangers that I’d been battling since leaving the tour, but it still came out from time to time and usually made me appear jerky.

But I could be grateful the only people I’d seen so far were the two downstairs.

Dressed, I padded down the stairs, the scents of the feast I’d missed still lingering in the air. My stomach’s rumbling grew to bear strength.

“See? There he is.” Franklin’s voice carried up to me, hale and hearty. “Hope you had a good rest, Eddie.”

The other man, the one who had me on edge, stood from the living room sofa. “Hi, I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jamie.”

“Eddie.” My cheeks warmed. “But you probably heard Franklin say that.” We stared at each other for a long moment before our host cut in.

“And you must be starving.” Franklin took my arm and guided me toward the dining room. “We put everything away so it wouldn’t go bad, but would you rather have a plate of turkey with all the trimmings or a sandwich? If that doesn’t sound good, there are always eggs?”

“Don’t go to any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble to cook a couple of eggs or reheat a plate or slap a sandwich together, so name your pleasure.”

What sounded easiest for him to make? He’d already cooked a big dinner, one I hadn’t had the manners to sit down and eat. Or the strength, really. I’d been so tired. “A sandwich maybe?”

“All right. You take a seat at the table and I’ll get that for you. Turkey all right? Anything else in particular on it?”

“Whatever you have, really.”

Franklin bustled away, and I sat down as he’d asked. Jamie pulled out a chair across from me and sat as well. But we didn’t speak. At least not until our host returned with a plate holding two of the biggest sandwiches I’d ever seen.

“Are those both for me?” I gaped. “Or is one for…Jamie?”

“Not for me.” He chuckled. “I already ate more than that. So good.”

I lifted the top slice of bread to inspect what all it was trying to contain. Juicy roasted turkey, root vegetables, and some kind of red jelly. And it smelled divine. “Looks great.”

Franklin left and came back with a pitcher of ice water and three glasses, and although I’d told myself I’d just eat one sandwich and ask him to wrap the other for later, it didn’t take long before the only thing left on the plate were a few scattered crumbs.

I leaned back in my seat and covered a burp. “Oh. Excuse me. I’m stuffed.”

While I’d been making a pig of myself, the other two were talking, and I didn’t take it all in, but Franklin had been describing some of the local attractions like the small town nearby. As I pushed my plate away, the innkeeper was on his feet again. “I’ll get your cobbler and would you like coffee or tea?”

About to protest that I couldn’t eat another bite, I froze at the word cobbler. My alpha dad had been a cobbler maniac, my omega dad a champion baker. “Would you happen to have milk?” I offered an apologetic smile. “When I was a boy, my family had cobbler every Sunday.”

“And you had milk then?” Jamie guessed.

“Yes, it’s always been one of my favorite combos.”

“Not to worry,” Franklin said. “I have ice-cold milk for you.”

Was there any other way to have it?