“It’s not the Ritz, but it should do for the night,” he said as he opened the door to our room.
“Are you sure they only had one room?”
“Yes, this was it. Apparently, there is some sort of convention across the street and that hotel overbooked their rooms and contracted with this hotel.”
The outside of the motel was dismal. It was dark and had peeling paint. The whole place looked like it was out of the ’70s. As we walked into the room, I was pleasantly surprised by the size of the room, though, and the interior wasn’t nearly as bad as I had expected. It was much larger than I had thought it would be. But then I started to notice some other very unusual things about it.
There was a giant two-person soaking tub in the corner and mirrors on the ceiling. There was one large king-sized bed and heart-shaped pillows on the bed. They were trying to make it romantic and I commended the effort, but the room was certainly far from comfortable.
“Is this the honeymoon suite?” I asked as I started to laugh.
“It was the only room left.”
“Oh, my gosh. This is crazy.”
“Hey, it’s a safe place to sleep and recoup. We need to get our plan together for tomorrow.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you say we? Am I part of this again?” I asked as I went to look at the bathroom.
To my horror, there wasn’t a shower at all, just a toilet and a small sink. I took in a deep breath as I came back out and leaned against the wall to see how Jackson would try to explain his way out of this one.
I knew guys like him. He would defend his choice to go out alone. He would tell me that I was just a woman and didn’t understand the dangers. I almost didn’t want to even hear him try to explain it, but I decided to humor him and listen anyways.
“I’m sorry. You were right. I need you for this.”
His words peaked my interest.
“Um, excuse me. Where is Jackson?”
“You heard me. I know when I’m wrong. I was wrong to leave you at the hotel and I’m sorry I made you feel like I had left you. I’m sure that was horrible.”
“Wow,” was all I could come up with.
I really had never met a man who was man enough to say he was sorry right away like that. He hadn’t argued with me. He hadn’t tried to make up excuses. I didn’t know what to think of him. Words were not even
coming to me as I stood there and looked at him.
I wasn’t sure I knew how to have a conversation with a man who wasn’t trying to argue with me or get me to sleep with him. It was an unusual circumstance and I stood against the wall and tried to take the whole moment in. Being a grown up and having a real conversation was going to be much harder than I thought.
I took a deep breath as I tried to control my innate need to be a smart ass. Instead, I wanted to respond appropriately. My whole life, I had waited for a man to come along who wasn’t a total douche bag. I had expected him to be a little different than Jackson, but in that moment, I realized something that I had never realized before.
A perfect guy doesn’t exist, just like a perfect woman doesn’t exist. But finding someone who is willing to apologize for their mistakes and truly show remorse when they were wrong, well, that was like finding a unicorn. All my thoughts about avoiding Jackson started to slip away when I saw him in this new light.
“Is that a good wow or a bad wow?” Jackson asked as he winced at my glare.
Slowly, I walked over toward him and grabbed the hem of his shirt. I tugged on it and pulled it up over his head. He didn’t fight me. I could tell he wanted to know what the heck was going on. But he let me take his shirt off.
“I think…” I started to say seductively as I leaned in and kissed his neck. “That you are…” I continued with more kisses. “The first man who has….ever said he was wrong.”
Jackson gave a deep, controlled laugh, but it shot right through my body and enticed my very core. He was a man’s man and I liked that about him. There was no other way to say it. He had his faults, we all do. But Jackson was a good guy and I wanted to be with him.
Screw all the political correctness, I was over it. I wanted him and he wanted me. We just needed to be together so we could move on. There was no need to drag out the inevitable. We could just have some fun and then move forward with the job.
“I’m not the first man to say he was wrong.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. I think you are. And, I want to celebrate.”
My hands moved to his pants, and I started to unbutton them. I felt his hands move on top of mine, though, and he stopped me.