Bet On Me Read online

  Living would be easy with her.

  She knew what it meant to be free.

  No one told her what to do and she’d uprooted everything to take a swing at living life her own way. I had only known her for hours, yet she spoke more sense to me in that time than anyone back home.

  She made me forget to hate myself.

  She revived me.

  For the first time in seven years, a desire to be better, and to want more, burned within me. I wanted to be as carefree as her, and I wanted to chase the sun like she said.

  I could only thank God the creep who’d been leering at her had been travelling along our route. Of course I spotted her instantly on the train. However, I hadn’t made the decision to move until he boarded. If he hadn’t arrived I wouldn’t have changed seats, and knowing what I would have missed out on I could safely say I’d be worse off for it. Gingernut had given me a direction and purpose.

  Knowing I needed at least a few hours to sleep if I was going be able to focus on finding her when the sun rose, I stripped down to my boxers and unzipped my bag to find my toothbrush.

  I don’t think I ever did clean my teeth that night.

  On top of my clothes in the corner of my bag lay a folded white piece of paper. Instantly, my heart picked up speed. I dried my sweaty palms on my boxers and forced the hope rising within me back down to my feet. If it remained there it wouldn’t matter if the paper didn’t turn out to be what I thought it was.

  I snatched it up and couldn’t unfold it quickly enough. When I skimmed over the words, my mouth stretched into a smile so big I was sure all of my teeth were bared.

  I’m working/staying at The Beckett. Come and find me when you’re ready to live again and lose our bet.

  Ask for Alaya at reception.

  I’ll see you soon, Hazel.

  X

  Oh yeah, I was in trouble … big trouble.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Alaya

  August 10th

  It had been just over a week since I arrived at The Beckett—yes, Dalton used his surname for his chain of hotels—and the beauty of the landscape still astounded me. I would have never considered the Roya Valley when I planned out my trip in my head. In fact, I’d never heard of it. However, I rapidly came to learn that even though Dalton came across as a lovable nutcase, when it came to business he knew his stuff.

  Both the hotel in France and the one I’d worked in back in Cornwall had a distinct quality I could only describe as Dalton’s presence running through them. They were also similar in theme: red oaked panelling on the top half of the outside while cream render coated the bottom. Each one of the four floors had simple balconies surrounded by wooden rails and large windows that either opened out on to the mountains at the front or a lake at the back.

  A structure so large should have stood out in the natural surroundings, yet Dalton managed to blend it in with the landscape. He told me he deliberately tried to make it as unobtrusive as possible. All of his hotels centred on a certain set of activities the area was known for, and he wanted his clientele to feel like they were sleeping in the outdoors.

  Which happened to be the main reason I’d taken Dalton up on his offer. There was always something exciting to do around his hotels. There’d been surfing in Cornwall, but the European ones held even more adventurous sports that I hadn’t waited to start trying out. I had a list of activities I wanted to do for every country I planned on visiting, and so far I couldn’t stay away from rafting on the nearby river.

  I was shifting the tables and chairs around outside on the patio when Rose—a waitress who’d worked with me back in Cornwall and moved to France for the summer—tapped me on the shoulder. At five foot six she towered over me. Her legs seemed to stretch on for miles and her stick thin frame and long blonde hair meant she could have been a Victoria’s Secret model. Seriously, she had mastered the perfect pout and used any opportunity to show it off.

  “There’s someone asking for you at reception.” Her harsh Devonshire accent sounded out of place up in the mountains and it still threw me. While I’d known her for two years since she moved to Cornwall, she’d never managed to lose the accent.

  I liked having a friend on site, though. There were only a grand total of nine Brits working in the hotel among a group of about fifty French. It wasn’t that I couldn’t communicate with them, I just gravitated towards Rose as she was familiar. Like me she was a country bumpkin and a great laugh.

  “Luce told me to tell you he’s hot.”

  My thoughts flew to Cole immediately. For the last week he’d never been far from my mind. If I wasn’t wondering when he’d turn up, I worried over the fact he may have never found my note. If I wasn’t doing that, I drove myself insane thinking he might decide to ignore me and never show. Although I sounded sure of myself when I left him, doubt had started to fill me the next day. I mean, who really wanted a stranger sticking their nose into their business? He never asked for my help and I’d been pushy.

  It was crazy, yet I found it impossible to shake him from my mind. He remained a mystery, like a puzzle I wanted to solve.

  “You know exactly who’s there, don’t you?” Rose swatted me with the tea towel she had slung over her shoulder.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I placed the final chair under the table and wiped the glass surface down so it gleamed. Then, returning my equipment to the kitchen, Rose followed, hot on my heels.

  “Come on, Alaya. Spill it. Who is he?”

  “I think some guests are ready to order.” I pointed behind her to a family of four who were searching the room for someone. When Rose peered over her shoulder to tell them she’d be over in a minute I made a break for it.

  Dashing across the room, I slipped out of the exit. I caught a glimpse of Rose’s scowl as the door shut behind me so I hurried even more. No doubt she’d corner me later, but I didn’t feel like filling her in on the details of my train journey. At least not until I was sure Cole was the person asking for me in reception.

  Straightening out my white shorts and navy top—another bonus about Dalton was the casual uniform—I strolled towards the front of the building. With every step my nerves increased my heartbeat.

  I was being ridiculous.

  The idea of him shouldn’t have sent me into a frenzy of excitement. I hardly knew the guy for crying out loud.

  Rounding the last corner, my hand trailed over the wooden flowerbeds that held deep red pansies with golden centres. When I reached the main entrance the first thing I saw was Cole’s gigantic frame hunched over the reception desk. A pair of worn jeans hung low on his hips to reveal the tip of black elastic from his boxers, and the grey plaid shirt he wore had been rolled up at the sleeves and remained loose at the sides, leading me to the assumption it wasn’t buttoned.

  My tennis shoes allowed me to move stealthily into the room without alerting him until I stood a metre away.

  “Hey, Hazel, you’re early,” I called out, causing him to spin around faster than I expected. The sudden movement had me stumbling back a step while Cole collected himself.

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “I couldn’t let you be right about everything, could I? And it’s Cole.”

  Pushing off the counter, he shoved his hands into his pockets and moved to stand in front of me.

  “I don’t think showing up early counts as proving me wrong. If anything it’s the opposite.”

  “Yeah, probably. You were right about everything. Happy?”

  I cocked my hip, resting both hands on it. “What else was I right about?”

  “Are you really going to make me say it?”

  I tapped my foot impatiently. “Yep.”

  “I need your help because I’m lost and I have no idea how to start living again. You’re better at this than me.”

  “I don’t think you’re as bad as you make out. I mean, look at you; you’re standing there breathing and taking up space. You’re almost a professional at living!�
�� I exclaimed. “I’d say if you keep going the way you are you’ll most likely live into your eighties, maybe nineties.”

  Cole rolled his eyes. “I was trying to compliment you again. I meant about how you’ve uprooted yourself to make your own adventure and follow your heart.”

  “I told you the first time, I don’t take compliments from random seat stealers on trains.”

  “We’re not on a train anymore.”

  Mischief shone in my gaze. “No, but I still don’t take compliments from strangers. They’re usually after something in return.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “I prefer the term one of a kind.” I twirled my finger around the end of my ponytail. “And once again I’m right; you do want something from me.”

  “You do realise this was your idea, right? You willingly gave me your information.”

  “Nope, lesson one about learning to live: you make your own decisions. I gave you an opportunity and you chose to take it.”

  “Do you ever make anything easy?”

  I shook my head. “Lesson number two: nothing you want is ever easy, but those things are worth the fight.”

  He stepped forward until we stood toe-to-toe. The action caused me to tilt my head back in order to see him. His hazel irises swirled, the colours glinting in the light.

  “Are you telling me you’re worth fighting for, sweetheart?” His voice dropped to a murmur, yet held a dangerous bite.

  I swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat which had formed from the change in proximity. It made speaking difficult. “I’m telling y-you what I just said. If you want to live you’re going to have to fight. If you’re not fighting you’re dead inside. It’s that drive—that desire—which pushes you to the limit.”

  “I’ll take a room then.”

  Blowing the air from my cheeks, I sidestepped him and scurried behind the reception desk, glad of the excuse to put some distance and a large piece of wood between us. My insides twisted and my legs suddenly felt weak as I tried to stand up behind the counter.

  “How long do you want it for?” Pulling up the calendar on the computer, I checked the availability for the next few weeks. “We have one open for a week and another for three.”

  “Not good enough.” He rested his arms on the counter. It gave me the perfect view of his strong biceps being hugged by the material of his shirt and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be held in them.

  Stupid. Don’t go there … ever. You’re not looking for any kind of romance.

  He clasped his hands together, one finger tapping against his knuckles, and I remembered it was my turn to respond.

  “Why? How long were you thinking of staying?”

  “About three months.”

  It took me a moment to recover, stunned he remembered my plan. I had been expecting him to be out of the way within a week or so. A month maximum. Regaining my composure, I glanced up from the computer screen. “If you don’t mind changing rooms after three weeks then I can extend everything. Does that work?”

  “Sure, whatever. How much is it?” One hand dipped below the counter and came back into sight holding a wad of notes.

  “What did you do, rob a bank?” I squealed as I noticed each note was worth fifty euros. For a split second, guilt filled his wide eyes. His lips parted in shock and he tried to speak a few times, though all he managed was a stutter.

  “Tell me you didn’t. Please tell me that’s not your dark secret and now you’re on the run.”

  While he chuckled, it sounded forced … almost nervous. Had he been a normal tourist I would have sworn the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead were from the heat. However, from the way he refused to make eye contact, and the uneasiness in his suddenly upright stance, I would have bet all of my money on the idea it was his secret causing the reaction.

  “I didn’t rob a bank,” he said finally, the words sticking in his throat.

  “What is it then? Embezzlement, fraud, old fashioned burglary? Did you kill someone?” I paused, my lips and hands beginning to tremble. “Shit, that’s it. You killed someone for the inheritance, didn’t you?”

  His gaze remained fixed on an object over my shoulder, his mouth tightening into a firm line. His eyes darkened and he barked a humourless laugh. “I didn’t kill anyone for their money, Gingernut. Calm down.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “I told you, it’s my inheritance. You’re not going to make me lose the bet so easily.”

  “It was worth a shot,” I grinned, mimicking his words from the train, hoping they would dispel the lingering awkwardness as I took his cash and returned to clicking around on the calendar for a minute.

  “Okay, you’re all set. Here’s your key and you’re in room twenty-nine, which is—” Glancing up from the screen once more to hand everything over, I stopped abruptly when I realised he was no longer there. “Cole?”

  “Yeah?” His head appeared back over the lip of the counter from where he’d been crouched. He swung his bag over his shoulder—the one I hadn’t noticed he had until now—and held out a hand for the key. I dropped the chain into his palm, making sure our skin didn’t collide by accident, and held my breath in the hope he’d leave.

  “Room twenty-nine?”

  “Oh, second floor and the furthest room on your right out of the lift.” The familiar prickle of heat turned my cheeks red. I didn’t need a mirror to know that.

  What is this guy doing to me?

  “You’re not going to show me up?”

  “You managed to find me here, so I think you’re capable of going up two floors.”

  I swear the corners of his mouth dipped and disappointment clouded his eyes, but he left without question.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Cole

  “The burgers are good here. I’d eat one every day if I could,” Alaya stated while I scanned the menu. She didn’t even bother to pick hers up.

  Having taken her break early, we were now both sat in the hotel restaurant because she insisted we needed to talk. What she wanted to talk about was anyone’s guess, but I couldn’t quell the nagging suspicion she was about to try and persuade me to spill my guts.

  Not going to happen.

  In fact, I planned to be on highest alert for our meal. Alaya had a way of disarming me with a simple look, and if I wanted to keep my secrets I needed to find a way around it within a matter of minutes. If I didn’t the bet would be over before it even really began, and I wanted my prize.

  In all seriousness, though, it wasn’t the only reason. I wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t feature in my thoughts at all because I was a guy, yet I also didn’t want to scare her off. I wanted a chance to get to know her, and for her to know me so that when I lit the match by revealing everything, hopefully it wouldn’t blow up in my face.

  Could you blame me for wanting to hold on to what I had for as long as possible?

  The train journey had been the first time I’d really laughed since I was seventeen and I was now twenty-four. Slipping back into the dark void inside of me for even the week I managed to stay away from Alaya felt longer than any of those years. I hadn’t known what I was missing out on before, and now I did. The emptiness inside of me had grown; the longing for more deepening the pit that swallowed my soul. I’d only lasted a week because of my stubbornness, and then I realised the extent of my stupidity. I’d already given up too many years of my life trying to slink into the background and for the first time in years someone made me want to take centre stage.

  “Cole?”

  A hand waved in front of my face, making me rear back in surprise. I blinked a few times to clear my vision. “What were you saying?”

  “Where’d you go just now?” She tilted her head to the side, her ear almost meeting her shoulder. I was quickly growing to learn she always performed the gesture when she studied someone. Her brilliant grey eyes bore into me like she could stare right into my thoughts. While it was a cute g
esture, it also freaked me the fuck out. I now knew what it felt like to be an animal in a zoo.

  One wrong move was all it would take. Alaya seemed observant, smart, and quick witted, but she took no bullshit. If she thought something was wrong she’d get it out of me faster than the cop had in the interrogation room.

  “I’ve lost you again.”

  Shit. I really needed to stop doing that.

  “Sorry. I’m here now, I swear.”

  She regarded me with a dubious expression, so rather than give her the opportunity to question me further I returned to the only thing I remembered her saying.

  “You said something about burgers?”

  “They’re the best you’ll ever taste. Seriously, you can die happy if you’ve eaten one. I have no idea what the chef does to them, but they’re just … mmm.” She shut her eyes and her lips curved up in contentment as she hummed.

  Her moan sent a spike of electricity through me. It had me focused solely on her pouty lips. I want to feel them on me, caressing me, slowly moving lower—

  I cut the thought off there, clearing my throat and reaching for my water. I started to sweat and it had nothing to do with the heat. Hell, the questions hadn’t even begun and I found myself in trouble.

  Mercifully, our waitress returned to take our order, forcing me to pull my gaze from Alaya.

  “Why me?” she asked as soon as the waitress left. Picking up her water, she took a sip then placed the glass back on the table with a chink as the objects collided. All I could concentrate on was the now shiny surface of her lips from where the water had left a residue.

  “Why you what?” I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms in front of me. It was the only protection I had, but having even the slightest barrier between us helped steady me. Because no matter how hard I tried to remain calm every tiny action—even ones as small as biting down on her lip—distracted me.