Page 82 of Midnight Mooring

Making it a destination.

I had to admit, I was impressed.

“This is my … my boyfriend, Forde.” Cameron shot me a wicked grin, wiggling her brows.

Fuck.

I was her boyfriend.

Something good tightened in my chest as I returned her smile before holding a hand to the woman to shake.

“Forde, this is the hotel manager, Brenna Bird.”

“Nice to meet you,” I offered.

“Doesn’t she have a superhero’s alter ego name?”

Brenna laughed softly. The manager was dressed in an expensive suit of wide leg trousers and a long-line suit jacket with the sleeves rolled up. Her jewelry was more subtle than Cameron’s, but it looked like it cost a lot of money too. She didn’t fit the adventure park side of this thing, but she suited this hotel.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Brenna replied. She had a pleasant, low-pitched voice. And an American accent?

“You’ve come a long way for a job,” I noted teasingly.

She shrugged, turning to gesture us inside. “Wanted to see a bit of the world.”

We followed her into the Scandi-inspired reception area with its gargantuan vaulted ceiling from which hung a mammoth chandelier crafted from hundreds of thin brass cylinders. There was a lot of beautiful wood finishes mixed with brass accents. Aye, being around Cameron meant I’d picked up some of the lingo.

The floor was a wide-plank oak finish, but in the middle of the reception area, different shades of wood had been inserted to create the hotel’s logo, a bunch of thistles with the hotel name above it.

The Scaris Thistle Hotel.

Staff nearby looked like they were mostly cleaning.

“We open next week.” Brenna flashed a gleaming white, perfect smile over her shoulder. “We’re just putting the finishing touches on everything. I’d suggested to Mr. Montrose we do a practice run, invite guests to stay for free so we can work out all the kinks. I expected him to invite more than one couple, but …” She shrugged, clearly trying to hide her exasperation. “Thanks for being here.”

I shot Cameron a wry look. “I knew there was something in it for that bastard.”

My girlfriend snorted in agreement.

Brenna was visibly bemused by my comment. “Anyway, we’d really appreciate if you could provide any feedback after your stay. Be brutally honest.”

“Sure.” Cameron practically bounced. I knew she was excited about this. “We’re just grateful for the free stay.”

“Amazing—”

“Bren, have you seen—oh!”

We turned to find a boy around Angus’s age, maybe a year or two older. He was dark-haired and dressed in baggy jeans and an AC/DC T-shirt.

“Nice taste.” I gestured.

The boy glanced down at his chest and then up at me with confusion. “Yeah, thanks.” He also had an American accent.

“He means the band on your shirt, Dillon.” Brenna’s lips twitched.

“AC/DC are a band?” Dillon raised an eyebrow. “Huh.”

“Wee man, you can’t wear an AC/DC shirt and not know who they are.”