Yours for the Night by Samantha Hunter Read Free Book Online Page B

which he also had to return to Ed at some point. He didn’t like not seeing Tiffany again—not even to say goodbye. She had certainly helped him enjoy the first days—and nights—of his vacation more than he ever thought he would.
    After his shower, he dressed and headed for the front door, though curiosity got the best of him as he walked through the main rooms of the apartment. He couldn’t say he’d noticed much about the decor the night before as they had stumbled in and headed directly for bed.
    Her bedroom had been airy and feminine; the rest of the house was more classic, with clean lines to the furniture and southwestern tones and touches adding color to an otherwise modestly decorated room.
    Out here, there were shelves full of books—every mystery and suspense series he could remember reading or knowing about, including all of the original Sherlock Holmes collection—and some he’d never heard of. She had a DVD collection that was just as impressive, with everything from Veronica Mars to Monk . On a reading desk where a pink laptop sat was a miniature action figure of Sherlock Holmes.
    Tiffany was a mystery junkie. Somehow he would have pegged her for more of a romance reader. Garrett liked to read, though he tended to read broadly—fiction and nonfiction, popular and more obscure literary books as well as plays and essays. He enjoyed a good suspense novel now and then, and had even read one of his mother’s romances once, as she had dared him to do it. It was pretty good, actually.
    But not a single clinching couple graced Tiffany’s shelves. It was all guns and shadowy figures running into the night on her book covers.
    Given her light, effervescent personality, it was all a surprise. Tiffany’s fun-loving, sexy demeanor didn’t suggest someone who liked to sit in the deep leather chairs by the heavy bookcases and read about grisly murder in dark alleys.
    But he liked the contrast; it showed him there was more to her than met the eye. Maybe that’s why she intrigued him. The discovery deepened the nudge of regret about not seeing her again, but they’d both had a good time, and that was that. Now he had the rest of his vacation to enjoy.
    Sherlock was standing on an ornate business card with her name on it, Tiffany A. Walker, Assitant Manager, Jarvis Jewelry, complete with phone and address. An idea formed. Maybe he could stop by, see her and just get a coffee, if she had time, and say a proper goodbye. It seemed like the right thing to do. He would call after he got back to the hotel and changed, and hopefully she would be up for it.
    Outside, he hailed a taxi out on the quiet Sunday morning street and headed back to the hotel, contemplating his next adventure. He was pretty sure nothing was going to be as adventurous as being with Tiffany, he thought, an edge of loneliness cutting through his otherwise happy mood.
    As the cab took him across the bridge and back downtown to the hotel, Garrett noticed runners and groups of tourists taking their Sunday walk over the bay via the bridge.
    “How far is it to walk over and back on the bridge?” he asked the driver. Maybe he’d put on his running clothes, grab his camera and start his vacation by running the length of the most famous bridge in the U.S., with the exception of The Brooklyn Bridge, which he had also run across.
    “A little less than two miles, point-to-point, but watch out for the bikers, they can come up on you fast sometimes,” the cabbie warned, and Garrett nodded.
    “Sounds like a nice way to spend a Sunday,” he replied.
    For the rest of the way back, the cabbie chatted with him, giving him some good ideas for things to do around the city, off the beaten track. Sights that he would find interesting like the Moraga Steps—a neighborhood stairway that went up a hillside, with one hundred and sixty-three steps that were redone with art tiles by local residents to beautify the neighborhood. There was also the Bison Paddock in Golden