“You know what would help with the exhaustion?”
I cock my head. “What?”
His smile spreads right across his face, lighting his eyes up. “A drink with me.”
“Ummm… I was thinking a swim could be good. I’m not sure about a drink. It’d probably put me to sleep.” My gaze drops to take in the suit he’s wearing. Whoa, this dude is built under that suit. I lift my gaze again to find heat in those gorgeous blue eyes of his.
I could do a drink with him.
Who are you kidding, Callie? You’re not even interested in him.
I could be.
Could not.
Shut up. I could.
“How about you get your swim in while I change out of this suit and then I’ll buy you a drink?”
I smile. “Sounds good. In about an hour?”
He nods. “I’ll meet you at the bar.”
As I check in, I try to muster up some interest in the guy.
He’s hot.
He’s dressed well.
He’s friendly.
Did I mention, hot?
And yet, I hardly see him when I look at him.
All I see—all I ever see—is Luke’s face.
* * *
“What are your plans for the rest of your holiday here?”
I sip some of my vodka and look at the guy sitting across from me—the suit I met when I checked in. I’ve been with him for the last hour and I was ready to leave about fifty-five minutes ago. I’m bored. There’s no spark between us at all and yet I know he wants more time with me. He’s already told me he’s staying here for a week for a conference. I’ve been very cagey about my plans because I don’t want to encourage him.
I check my watch.
Five minutes before the hour is up and I can escape. It would have been rude not to stay for at least an hou
r.
“I’m actually here for a wedding, so I’m busy with my friends. I think they’ve got nearly every minute scheduled.” I laugh. It’s fake as hell. “I’ll be more exhausted by the end of this holiday than when I arrived.”
His smile fades a little. I think he’s realised he’s got no shot here when he stands and says, “It was great meeting you. I hope we can maybe find some time together in the next few days.” He passes me his business card. “Call me if you’re free.”
I watch as he leaves and then look down at the card.
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
A fucking business card?