Shiver / Private Sessions: Shiver / Private Sessions

Carrie scowled, but Erin didn’t seem to care. She just stepped away as the man and cart got closer.

He lifted Carrie’s suitcase first, but she stopped him. “You might want to put the Titanic on there first, Mr. Crider.” She nodded toward Erin’s enormous wheeled suitcase. A body could fit in it easily. Carrie knew that there were at least twenty-eight different outfits in there, complete with shoes, scarves, earrings, makeup and anything else her friend thought she might need in the next six days.

Carrie had long ago given up speaking to Erin about her need to take everything she owned on their trips, but Erin never listened. Even last summer when she’d had to lug the heaviest backpack ever, she remained undaunted.

“It’s Sam,” he said, as he traded luggage. He lifted Erin’s bag with surprising ease. Carrie wondered what he looked like under all that flannel. Vacation Rules were sounding better and better. On the other hand, his handling their luggage seemed to indicate that he was pretty involved in running the hotel, and according to Erin, the ghost hunters had taken over the whole place. So while she was on vacation, he wasn’t. Maybe it wouldn’t be a problem. If it was even a possibility.

Sam stacked everything in sensible order, and when he was done, he put his hand on the small of her back and smiled at her.

Heat filled her, moving from her lower body to her chest, then her face. He wasn’t staring at her now. In fact, he was acting the perfect host. But the hand on her back lingered, as did his smile. She had a really strong, terrifically inappropriate urge to kiss him. Holy crap. This could lead to things. Maybe.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Carrie looked away, because jeez, what the hell? She forced herself to focus. The touch meant nothing. If something were to start, it would have to be started by him, and that wasn’t about to happen in the lobby. Also, the only thing she knew for sure about Sam was that he was pretty damn sexy. Vacation Rules didn’t mean jumping on anyone at all. She had to actually like the guy, and for that she had to spend more than five minutes with him.

Erin led the way to the elevator. The three of them waited, darting glances at each other. Finally, they climbed on board for their short ride.

There were four stories to the hotel. The underground parking, the banquet level, the lobby, which was where the restaurant and pub were located, and finally two floors of guest rooms. Carrie’s room was on the top level, 204. Erin was in 206.

Carrie managed not to look at Crider even after they stepped into the hall. It was way less motel-like than Carrie would have imagined. It didn’t seem particularly ghost-friendly, either. Instead, it was calming, with a dark mauve carpet that had a gold diamond pattern, and framed black-and-white photographs of what she imagined were local attractions. Gorgeous pictures, actually. She stopped at a shot of an eagle against a clear sky with a very large, very snowy mountain filling the horizon. Her heart had managed to stop its manic pounding and she was almost herself once more.

“That view’s about eighteen miles from here. If you’d like, I can show you.”

She looked at Sam and it happened again. Tummy flutters, thoughts of kissing, heat. It was a bit more manageable this time, but still. She wasn’t the fluttery, blushing type. Admittedly, it had been a while since she’d had sex, but that fact alone couldn’t change her personality. “That’s a nice offer, thank you.”

“Sure. There’s no skiing yet, not enough snow, but the ride out is spectacular. I take people out on the trail from time to time. There’s no real schedule to it. Just say when, and I’ll make sure it happens.”

“That’s very nice of you, but I’m not much of a cowgirl. I’ve lived in big cities my whole life.”

“That’s a shame. Not that I have anything against major cities. I live in one myself, when I’m not here. But seeing this country on the back of a horse? It’s a remarkable experience.”

“Excuse me.”

Carrie turned at Erin’s voice. She was down the hall by her open door.

“I’ve got a phone call I have to make, so maybe you could drop off my bag? “

No way Erin had to “make a phone call.” She just wanted to get unpacked so she could get to the good stuff—the hunting. Or she wanted to leave Sam and Carrie alone. Yeah, it was probably that second thing.

Sam hopped to it, and had the Excessively Large Suitcase on the bed in two shakes. Then it was on to Carrie’s room, which was identical to Erin’s in all but color. There was a great queen-size bed with wooden head and footboards, a comforter that made her want to jump between the sheets immediately, preferably with the man standing next to her, and a good-size desk that would make working there easy. There was even a small fridge and microwave. All in all, especially for the price, this was an excellent room. “Nice.”

“We try.” Sam put her suitcase on the bed. When he turned back to the rest of the bags, he said, “I see you’re all set to do some serious ghost hunting.”

She reminded herself of her role here and smiled. “You bet. I’m all about the ghosts. The more, the better. Bring it on.”

He chuckled, a sexy rumbly sound accompanied by a sly sideways glance. His nose, she realized, was on the large side, but it suited him. He also had a dimple in his chin, and how had she not noticed that before? Altogether gorgeous. Which didn’t really explain her reaction to him. She lived in L.A. for god’s sake. She saw gorgeous men all the time.

“So, L.A.?”

“Yeah,” she said as she frowned. “How did you—”

“When you registered.”

“Ah.”

“What part?”

“Downtown.”

He put her laptop on the desk. “Really? You’re the first person I’ve ever met who lived in downtown L.A.”

“Lots of us do. Just not as many as say, Chicago, because L.A.’s so spread out.”

“That’s true. I’ve worked there before. Not for a while, though.”

“Doing what?”

“Documentary films. So, you live in one of those big high-rise buildings?”

“Converted bread factory. It’s a loft with a great view of the flower market.”

“Sounds great.”

“You live here, I suppose.”

His lips came together and a shadow crossed his eyes. “Not really. I inherited the place after my father died.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

He put her scanner, which he wouldn’t be able to tell was a scanner, on the desk, as well. “It’s fine. I grew up here. This is home.”

“It’s cozy. Pretty.”

“Yeah, it is.” There was more to unload from the cart, but that was done quickly, and then he put his hands in his pockets and rolled up on the balls of his feet for a second. His gaze wandered the room as if he weren’t intimately familiar with the décor.

Her frown came back as she wondered why. The situation was new to her. Always before, she’d met her vacation flings at bars or in the pool, and they had all been fellow travelers. Not that there had been all that many. And she’d never had this kind of immediate full-body flush minutes after meeting. Maybe his lingering had nothing to do with sex at all. He probably wanted to give her some tips about the—

Tips. Dammit. She grabbed her purse and pulled out her wallet. Without a second thought, she whipped out a ten even though it was overkill. “Thank you,” she said, holding the bill out to him.

He looked at the money, his eyes widened, then he looked at her. “Um. No, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Really.”

He didn’t actually blush, but his expression let her know that trying to tip him was a stupid, stupid move. Par for the course, today. Now she didn’t know whether to put the money away, or what. She decided to drop it on the bedside table. Casually. As if she’d meant to do that all along.

Of course, it didn’t work. Yet, he still didn’t leave. Okay, she’d made a mess of everything so far, why not go for the whole enchilada and find out if he, in fact, had any interest in her at all? “Do I remind you of someone you know? “

His head jerked up from looking at the ten-dollar bill. “Excuse me?”