No Reservations (Special Ops: Tribute Book 1) (2 page)

Commissioning Week was the hotel industry’s biggest week of
the year in Annapolis. Every inn, no matter how small or poorly reviewed, was
booked solid, so much so that locals often rented out their own homes to
incoming tourists just to handle the overflow.

She could be packed this week, outdated plumbing fixtures or
not.

But she wasn’t ready. It wasn’t perfect. And it
had to be
perfect. There were too many people eagerly waiting to see her fail. Or rather,
just two people in particular—her parents.

She bent over to pick up the pieces of glass that were strewn
all over the floor. “Yeah, well, it was necessary. Anyway, I’m sorry to turn
you away, but there are a couple bed-and-breakfasts down the road you might
want to try.”

“Here. Let me help you with that.” After setting the broken
doorknob on the table in the foyer, he shut the knob-less door behind him and stepped
closer toward her to help her pick up the glass shards. “I tried them already.
They’re booked up.”

“You might want to try the bigger hotels near the mall,” she
said, knowing that he wouldn’t have any luck there either.

She felt badly giving him false hope. But she’d say just
about anything to get him out of her house right now. She wasn’t exactly ready
for company.

Even though he was, without a doubt, the hottest company
she’d had in a good handful of years.

“I already tried them. They’re full, too.” He glanced up
from his hands, full of glass pieces. “Where’s your garbage?”

“I’ll just take those,” Bridget said, her hands already
full.

“No, I’ve got them. Just need a place to dump them.”

It hadn’t been her intention to let him further into her
home. Yet she found herself doing just that, as he followed her into the
kitchen to put the glass in the garbage.

“Look, I don’t care what your place looks like. If it’s got
a bed, then it’s better than most of the places I’ve slept in.”

His statement earned a perplexed look from Bridget.

“I was a Navy SEAL,” he clarified. “I’ve slept in bombed-out
buildings. So really, whatever problems you have here won’t scare me away.” He
glanced around him. “Though from the look of it, the place looks pretty great
to me.”

She couldn’t help the flicker of pride she felt when he said
it. She’d only shown the place off to Leia so far. “Thanks,” she replied
quietly.

“Look, I really need a place to stay downtown for the next
couple weeks. I’ll pay your full price, whatever that is.”

“I’m sorry. I—really can’t. I’m just not ready for
business. I’ve got too much to finish here. I’ve got—plumbing issues and
a few other things that just need…”
A licensed contractor
, she wanted to
finish. “…a little more elbow grease,” she feebly offered instead, while
leading him back to the foyer.

He nodded slightly, looking defeated, but only for a second.
His eyes lifted back to hers and his eyebrows rose slightly.

“I have tools,” he said.

Time stopped, and she stared at him silently for a few
moments, hope flowing through her body like a cool breeze on a summer day.

“Tools?” she asked, her voice breathy with need.

“Yeah. I could help you fix the plumbing you mentioned. And
probably that porch light. I’ve got some business during the days to deal with,
but I don’t mind rolling up my sleeves when I get back.”

Her eyes moved from his face to arms that were corded with
muscles. While a woman her age should probably be imagining those rough,
callused hands caressing her woefully undersexed body, all she could picture
them doing was wrapping themselves around her plumber’s wrench.

“You have tools,” she repeated, her brain still stumbling
over those three blessed words.

“I brought my tools with me from Little Creek. I’m looking for
a rental for a business my friends and I are going in on. Figured I’d have to
fix the place up a bit. I’m good with plumbing. I could probably help you.”

“You’re good with plumbing.” Was she even capable of doing
anything but repeating his words right now? Reality gave her a quick stab in
the gut, bringing her voice back to her. “What would you charge?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t charge you anything. Just be my way of
thanking you for letting me stay here. I’ll still pay you for the room.”

Bridget shook her head adamantly. “That’s doesn’t seem fair
to you.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll be busy during the day, but I don’t mind
helping out here when I’m done. I’m not really a guy who sits still very much.”

She felt her eyes track down his body unconsciously, and
then snapped them back to his face when she realized they had drifted.

“I can kind of tell that,” she found herself thinking, and
then winced when she heard that the words had actually slipped from her mouth. Heat
warmed her cheeks from embarrassment.

A grin touched his lips and the power of it over her was stunning.

“Till I sign a lease for our business, I could use a project
or two to keep me busy,” he offered.

Her mouth scrunched sideways. “Do you know how to fix that?”
she inquired, giving a nod to the doorknob resting on the table in the foyer. She
could probably figure out how to fix it herself, but it might take her half the
night. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep with the front door unlocked.
Annapolis might give off a quaint, small town vibe, but it was still a city.

“The door knob? I can have that fixed tonight. Look, I’m
desperate. If you don’t say yes, then I’m stuck looking for a hotel up by the
airport. And I’d much rather be downtown. I need to figure out where the foot
traffic goes around here. It will help me pick out the best place to rent for
our business. I’m opening an ice cream shop here later this year with some
friends. And I’ll get the best feel for this town if I’m—”

“Stop,” Bridget said, holding up her hands. “The room is
yours.”

He had her at
I have tools
.

Six years of being a SEAL had trained Maddox Kerry to always
be prepared for the worst.

So when the innkeeper led him upstairs to his room after
swiping his credit card, he’d expected some broken pipes to be leaking all over
the floor or a gaping hole in a damaged roof above his bed.

Closed for renovations
was how she’d described the place, and
he had imagined the renovations must be pretty intense to shut a place down
over Commissioning Week.

So he was surprised when she opened the door to a perfectly
adorned guest room. Nestled in the corner of the inn, the chamber was small, but
welcoming, with a queen-size bed and a set of drawers. Next to one window sat
an overstuffed chair with a tiny old desk in front of it, where Maddox could
picture himself winding down after a long day, checking emails on his laptop. A
couple books rested on the desk. They’d seen some serious action from the look
of the stained, time-worn covers and antiqued pages. Curious, he glanced down
at them.

“
Chesapeake
,” Maddox said, pulling out the James A.
Michener classic from beneath a Dickens that would surely put him to sleep. “I
always wanted to read this.”

“Well, now you can,” she responded. “I’ll have a whole
library of books in the living room eventually. I bought the bookshelves. Just
haven’t figured out how to stand them up without the risk of them toppling over
on people.”

“You just need to bolt them to the wall. I can do that for
you.”

Her hands dropped to her sides and she just stared at him
for a moment, almost as though he were the first human to offer help in ages.
“Thanks, but I can probably handle that one on my own,” she replied, her
fingers twitching against the fabric of her yoga pants. “I saw a video about
how to do it on YouTube. I just haven’t tried it yet.”

“But why handle it on your own when you’ve got me here?
Look, I’m not exactly the relax-and-read-a-book type of guy. I’m happier when
I’m doing stuff.”

She pressed her lips together, making them disappear, much
to Maddox’s dismay. Her lips were supremely designed, pink and plump and
begging to be kissed, even if the woman wearing them looked like she had spent
the last two hours digging a foxhole, with her ratty ponytail and dirty
t-shirt.

“There’s an en suite bathroom right there,” she pointed out,
adding, “Sorry about the brass faucet. It’s kind of dated. I bought some new
ones for the rooms and was actually installing them just before you arrived.”

Ditching his duffel at the foot of the bed, he flicked on
the bathroom light and glanced in. “Looks fine to me.” He sniffed. “Did you
just paint the place?”

“Oh, no. Is the smell still bad? I’ve been breathing it in
for so long, I can’t really notice it anymore.”

She sure lacked confidence in the place, he noticed. “No,
no. Smells fine.”

“Good. And yes, I painted the whole place. Well, except my room
off the kitchen. I figured no one’s going to see that, anyway. And I’m almost
getting used to the quirky wallpaper.” She winced, as though she were imagining
it right now. “Almost.”

“You had to take paper down?”

“In every room.” She glanced around nervously. “So um, if
you need anything, there’s a bell down in the living room. Just ring it and
I’ll come. Here are your keys. The silver one is for the front door, and the
brass one is for your room.”

She handed them to him, and Maddox felt an odd sensation
when their hands touched. Hers was warm and soft, except for a few calluses on
her palm—the sign of a hard worker. His own, chilled from the cold rain
outside, heated immediately at her touch, as well as other parts of his body.

Jeez, get a grip, Maddox.

She pulled her hand back quickly.

A light bulb went off in his head. “Oh,” he said suddenly,
digging into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “Here.” He handed her a few
bills.

She looked perplexed. “What’s this for?”

“A tip.”

“Oh, God. Um, you don’t have to tip me. I didn’t even carry
your bag up.”

Maddox nearly winced at the idea of a woman carrying a bag
for him. Call him a chauvinist, a sexist, or just plain old-fashioned (which he
preferred), but he was raised to open doors, pick up the tab, and definitely to
carry the bags. “I insist.”

“But I really don’t think it’s appropriate for—”

“Please.” His stubborn eyes met her floundering ones.

Looking perplexed, she paused, as though she was trying to
determine what her course of action should be. “Well, um, thank you.”

“I’m Maddox Kerry, by the way.”

A small smile curved upwards on the right side of her mouth.
“That’s what it said on your credit card.”

He stared at her a moment, waiting. Then he asked, “And you
are?”

Her eyes widened suddenly. “Oh. Stupid—I’m stupid,
apparently.” She shook her head. “I’m Bridget Needham. It’s nice to meet you,
Mr. Kerry.” She extended her hand to him and he took it eagerly. Her handshake
was firm, if a little uncertain.

“Call me Maddox, please.”

“Then call me Bridget.”

He smiled, still holding her hand. A little too long, he
realized when she tugged it back awkwardly and then raked it through a tuft of
hair that had freed itself from her ponytail.

“Look, I have to confess. You’re my first guest.
Ever
.”
She said the last word with emphasis. “And I haven’t really figured out any of
this—” She waved her hand through the air between them, struggling for
the right word. “—guest-innkeeper thing. So I apologize in advance.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ve never stayed in a
bed-and-breakfast in my life. So you can pretty much do anything and I’ll just
go along with the plan.”

“Breakfast,” she breathed out suddenly, her hand slapping
against her thigh. “I nearly forgot the breakfast part of the deal. Um, would
breakfast at eight work for you?”

“Works fine. Don’t go to too much trouble. I’m easy.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She glanced around the room as though to
make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything and then disappeared through the
doorway.

She was a skittish one; that was certain. But if he was
really her first guest, then that would probably explain it. And it wasn’t like
she was expecting guests tonight. He was lucky she took him in.

He pulled out the phone that had been vibrating in his
pocket. The display lit up, and he clicked to open a new text from Becca.

“Are you at the hotel?” it read simply.

“No. The one I was hoping for was filled up. It’s
Commissioning Week,” he wrote back.

There was a long pause before her response. “Oh, crap! I
forgot about that.”

He hadn’t expected Becca to think about Commissioning Week. Even
though her brother, Captain Shey, went to the Academy, that was decades ago. And
as a single mom, she had a few other things on her mind. “No worries. I shouldn’t
have come out here without reservations.”

“You do everything without thinking. Including leaving the
Navy!” She added a smiling, winking emoji.

His lips formed a thin line, feeling the pinch of
frustration, even though he was certain that wasn’t the reaction Becca had been
intending to get from him.

Leaving the Navy probably
had
seemed like a spur of
the moment decision to Becca, her brother, and all of Maddox’s former
teammates. In reality, though, a few years of soul-searching had gone into it.

His leaving the SEALs was a necessity, not a choice. He
wouldn’t let the past repeat itself.

The phone buzzed again. “Where r u staying?”

“Found a room at an inn right by the Academy gate.”

“How did u manage that during Commissioning Week?”

“Innkeeper couldn’t say no to my charm.”

“Ha! More like to your pecs.”

Maddox chuckled low, sitting on the bed. It was a firm mattress,
adorned with more pillows than he’d owned in his lifetime. “Y, Becca, never
knew u noticed,” he replied back.

“U might be like a brother to me, but I’m not blind. R we
still on for a teleconference this week?”

“Yep. I should have some options for us by then. Aidan will
be on the call, but all others are OCONUS.”

OCONUS, he thought, where
he
should be. Right now,
most of his former teammates were actually on a mission or preparing for one. Not
slogging around in soaked Nikes on a rainy night looking for a place to stay. A
frown formed on his face, and that familiar feeling of doubt engulfed him. It
had been months since he’d taken off his Trident for the last time, yet he
still questioned whether he’d done the right thing.

“K. CU then.” Becca’s text pulled him back to the present.

He tugged his duffel upward and rested it on the bed. The
old bag was rife with holes, and he was lucky the rain hadn’t crept in to
saturate his laptop inside of it. But, once belonging to his father, the duffel
had sentimental value, even if he’d never considered himself to be a
sentimental guy.

Setting the laptop on the small desk, he decided now that he
was a businessman, it might be time to buy a briefcase with a laptop protector
like all the other working stiffs out there. He might be embarking on a career
of scooping ice cream, but he was still going to be a business owner.

He opened the laptop and searched for Wi-Fi. With success,
he pulled up a search engine and typed in the name he’d read on the sign above
the inn’s door, “The Zephyr Inn,” tacking on the word “Annapolis.” Several
results came up, and he clicked on the top link.

The words “Permanently Closed” met his eyes.

Clicking on another link, he looked at some mediocre reviews
on a travel website. “Nice innkeeper, but the inn needs an update,” seemed to
be the general consensus.

Pressing his lips together, he shut his laptop and looked
around him. Well, the inn had definitely gotten its much-needed update. And as
far as he could see, it was ready for business.

But she does need a working doorknob
, he reminded himself, rising from his
chair and leaving the room to go to his car. He’d grab his tools and get the
job done before bed.

Stepping outside again, he raised his head slightly to the
sky, noticing the rain had done him the favor of stopping. The streets were
buzzing with activity and Maddox’s eyes drifted toward the gate to the Naval
Academy just a few doors down.

He’d have to take a look at the Academy’s schedule and see
what the locals would be doing this week. It might have been auspicious to have
arranged his trip at this time of year. It would be good to be a part of the
town this week so that he could see where the traffic flowed, where the parking
might best suit his business, and where the biggest crowds hung out, looking
hungry for a scoop of ice cream.

He reached into his car and pulled out a bucket. He’d given
up his tool box years ago, when it could no longer accommodate his growing
number of tools. The bucket served him better, and he didn’t have anyone to
impress.

Except for the cute blonde innkeeper. Yeah, he could handle
impressing her a bit.

***

Bridget had never considered herself “easy” when it came to
men.

But no man had ever laid a line on her like this guy had.

“I have tools” just about warmed every square inch of her body
with promise, and had her handing him a key.

Was she crazy? She asked herself this from her perch at her
desk as she glanced again at the locked bedroom door. He could be a lunatic. Sure,
his credit card cleared, but even serial killers have credit cards, she
imagined.

For a woman hell-bent on opening a bed-and-breakfast, she
found herself peculiarly uncomfortable with the idea of sharing the house with
a perfect stranger, especially one who looked like he could snap a telephone
pole in two over his knee. She had always pictured this differently, with her
opening her doors to a couple of guests at a time. That way, if one happened to
be a vicious killer, someone would be around to hear her scream.

Lord, what had she gotten herself into? She lunged for her
cell phone.

“U home yet?” she texted Leia.

Leia would put it all in perspective. She’d say something
like, “Well, you wanted guests. What are you complaining about?” and that would
be just what Bridget needed to hear right now.

It was a few minutes before she got her reply.

“Just walked in.”

“I got my first guest,” Bridget tapped in.

“Tonight? Thought u were closed.”

“Some guy showed up desperate. Everyplace else is booked 4 Commissioning
Week.”

“U r seriously letting some desperate guy stay there? No
reservation? No other guests? Just some random weirdo?”

So much for a vote of confidence from her friend.