Steam (Homecoming Hearts #4)(15)

“Peace and quiet,” Ashby said simply.

Skye hummed. “There’s peace and quiet, then there’s tumbleweeds in a graveyard,” she said frankly.

Ashby chewed his lip as she brushed the clay between his eyes. “Why is it so run down, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Skye chuckled ruefully. “Well, you didn’t hear this from me,” she said, clearly eager to gossip. “But you come across Bob yet, the manager? He’s the sad-looking fella you’ll find propping up the bar most evenings. Balding, same old gray tie every day.”

Ashby shook his head, but Skye waved the brush at him, dangerously close to flicking clay on his white bathrobe.

“You’ll spot him soon enough,” she continued. “So, rumor has it his wife’s putting him through a nasty divorce even though their kid’s coming out the other side of chemo.” She tutted and dabbed more of the face mask onto Ashby’s chin. “Some people. Anyway, I don’t think his heart’s in it anymore. We can only work with what he gets the owner to give us, and lately, that ain’t been a whole lot.”

Ashby hummed. That was a real shame. He listened to Skye chatter on for a while about how things used to be, thinking of what Maeve had told him as well. The more he saw of the Grand Resort, the more he was convinced it just needed a little love.

Ashby’s fears that Skye was going to pounce on him were further allayed when she inspected his hands. “Urgh, you gay boys do keep your nails so nice,” she said. “Would you like me to tidy your cuticles and do a quick oil massage?”

Although it was a little presumptuous that straight guys couldn’t have nice nails, Ashby knew she meant well and accepted the compliment. “That would be wonderful,” he said sincerely.

While she busied herself moving her nail treatment station, Ashby chewed his lip. Surely, it couldn’t hurt to ask? Skye seemed to know so much about the resort.

“I made a friend this morning,” he lied as she began filing. “But I didn’t catch his name. Tall, dark hair down to his shoulders, big muscles. He didn’t seem like a guest.” Or at least, Ashby assumed from the familiar greeting Kadie had given him.

Skye’s perfectly penciled eyebrows slowly climbed up towards her hair. “Trenton Charles’s boy?” she asked. “No way. He’s back?”

“Um,” said Ashby. “Maybe? He had luggage with him. And a puppy. He was wearing a black leather jacket despite it being arctic outside.” Even thinking about that jacket put Ashby in danger of popping out of his robe.

“Dreamy eyes, muscles for days?” Skye sighed. “That’s him. Oh my god, I can’t believe he’s here. I’ll have to get an autograph.”

Ashby frowned at her. “Autograph?”

Her eyes went wide. “Uh, yeah,” she said. “You did recognize him, didn’t you?” At Ashby’s blank face, Skye gasped. “He’s TJ Charles! The movie star. It’s, like, this place’s only claim to fame.”

Ashby blinked. “TJ Charles?”

Oh no.

Yes, he was aware TJ Charles was a film star, but Ashby had not caught on that he was who he’d dropped to the feet of a couple of hours ago. He really should have realized he’d been flirting with a former member of Below Zero, though. How had he not registered it was one of his teenage crushes he’d been babbling to?

“Ah,” he said, shame washing over him. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”

Skye snorted. “Come on. Tell me all about it, babe. Then I’ll tell you how I once fell into the lap of Zac Efron at a Bar Mitzvah.”

“No?” Ashby said, scandalized and delighted all at once.

She nodded. “He’s a friend of a friend. So, come on, what did you say to our little TJ?”

Ashby sighed and recounted the whole cringe-worthy story from the lobby. But as he was describing it, he realized it wasn’t all that bad. It was TJ’s fault if he was too miserable to take delight in a puppy. Ashby promised himself he wasn’t going to let himself worry about it any longer.

Even if TJ Charles was still just as hot as when Ashby had stuck his posters on his bedroom wall. Hotter, even, now he was a fully grown man.

Ashby warred with himself as he bid farewell to Skye with the promise to come back soon. He needed to banish TJ from his mind. Yeah, he was hot. But he was also rude. Ashby had no time for that. Besides, he was probably just passing through the resort and Ashby wouldn’t have to see him ever again. At least, not in the flesh.

With that bittersweet thought in mind, he made his plans for the evening. After a short nap – he blamed the massage as much as the lingering jetlag – he showered and took himself over to the restaurant for dinner with a book. He would rather have had his old, paperback copy of Pride and Prejudice to keep him company, but if he’d packed all the books he wanted to read this holiday, there would have been nothing else in his suitcase. He begrudgingly admitted that his eReader was actually pretty brilliant.

He people-watched while he read about Lizzie Bennett for the umpteenth time and ate, enjoying a glass or two of a rather nice Malbec wine. As Skye had mentioned, there was a gentleman at the bar who appeared quite down-in-the-dumps. Bob, Ashby guessed, the manager of the resort. He would probably be quite handsome for an older man if he didn’t look like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Wearing a frayed ski jacket and worn jeans, he picked at his beer bottle label and dispassionately watched baseball on one of the TV screens.