It Will Always Be You (You Series Book 1)

It Will Always Be You (You Series Book 1) by Tina Ness Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: It Will Always Be You (You Series Book 1) by Tina Ness Read Free Book Online
Authors: Tina Ness
towel before heading into the vacant room. The bathroom, with its tan marble tiles, six-jet shower, and neatly placed soaps and moisturizers, is ready for the next guests. Moistening the towel on one corner, I dab at my makeup in an attempt to keep at least a little of it on. Flipping my head upside down, I make quick work with the hair dryer from under the sink. So much for the extra curls I added this morning. My natural wave will have to do.
You twit,
my subconscious barks.
The guy is most likely a married cheater, and why would he want you anyway?
I wipe down any evidence of my visit, drop off my towel, and head back to the desk, where Kiki is wrapping up a phone call.
    Her chestnut hair is wrapped up in a messy bun, not down around her shoulders with heavily controlled natural curl like usual. It’s really cute, and I tell her so. Her attire is more casual today, jeans and a V-neck T-shirt, so I know she isn’t staying long. The day or two she is in each week are usually long ones. She hangs up and swings the chair around, her usual bright smile absent.
    “Coffee maker in the lounge is apparently causing some trouble again.” She shakes her head. “You mind going to check it out, Liz?”
    “Of course I can. And good morning to you too,” I say dryly.
    My response gets her attention, and she springs up off her seat, laughing.
    “Sorry, Liz. Kevin and I are heading to his parents’ place in Ely for the weekend, and it always seems to get me worked up. I can’t do anything right in the eyes of that uptight mother-in-law of mine.”
    “You? The perfect wife, mother, and boss? Is this woman delusional?” I say, laughing at the irony of anyone thinking otherwise. The woman is genuine, hardworking, and caring. What more could a person want?
    Kiki tucks in her chin and mumbles, “Brown-noser.”
    I gasp dramatically and hold my heart.
    We both enjoy a hardy laugh. Although Kiki is my boss and our age difference is substantial, Kiki and I have always gotten along like old friends.
    I wish her good luck and head to the lounge to inspect the broken coffee maker, which, turns out, was moved, pushing the cord over onto the hotplate and causing it to melt and short. Not sure how the late night crew hadn’t noticed the awful smell of burnt plastic that must have come with it. I call our local coffee distributor, and they assure me they will have a replacement cord for us tomorrow on our scheduled delivery day.
    ***
    I am nearly finished checking in a young couple and their two rambunctious little boys when I spot Marshall heading into the lobby. I hadn’t seen him leave this morning since I’d been so busy. After ordering the replacement cord for the coffee maker, I had spent much of my morning working on next month’s schedule and placing an order for hotel linens.
    “Here are your keys. Enjoy your stay, and please let us know if you need anything at all.” I watch the two little towheaded boys drag their rolling Spiderman luggage bags before glancing again at Marshall, who is heading toward me, looking delicious in a salmon-colored fitted dress shirt that hugs his muscular build like everything else I’ve seen him wear, a matching plaid tie, and dark blue jeans that sit perfectly along the sinfully magnificent V line I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of yesterday by the lake. That line marks the trail to what I can only imagine is a glorious love muscle. My gaze travels down to a spectacular pair of black square-toed dress shoes. Oh, how I love the way he dresses. I could design a room around his masculine flawlessness alone, a room I would never desire to leave. Nervously, I fumble with a stack of invoices that need to be filed.
    “Hello, Elizabeth,” Marshall says as he reaches the desk. His shirt is wet with rain, but every strand of dark hair on his head is in perfect, messy yet sexy, Ian Somerhalder form.
    “Good afternoon, Marshall.” My voice is shaky. “Mr. Roderick,” I correct myself, not sure

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