Chapter 10:

In true Mila Waters fashion, the hotel reservation mimics the rest of my trip and the hotel attendant speaks very broken English. I silently send up prayers of thanks to my father who insisted I learn Spanish growing up. Tyler looks pleasantly surprised when I break out in my second language to discuss the situation, and the guy at the desk looks relieved. He finally finds my reservation, misspelled, and quickly hands me my key card, pointing me to the elevators.

I love this hotel. I stay here every time I come to Houston. The lobby is modern with an open feel, and the rooms mimic that. Tyler follows me up, pulling my bag behind him with my backpack on his shoulder as we make our way down the sultry hallway to my door.

After letting us both inside, he sets my suitcase on the bed and motions toward the bathroom. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," I say as I start digging through my suitcase for clean jeans and blouse to match. Thankfully, I brought my black leather ankle boots to wear to meetings. They will spruce up my outfit nicely.

When he emerges from the bathroom, my mouth waters at the site of him in a more casual state. He kept the dress shirt on but rolled up the sleeves, tucking it into a pair of dressy, dark-wash jeans, and a belt to complete the ensemble. With his arms now exposed, I can see the intricate artwork on his skin and realize his entire forearm, maybe more, is covered in a mechanical network of gears and things very masculine.

I stop myself from drooling, snatch my outfit from the bed, and head toward the bathroom. But suddenly, that tatted forearm reaches out, effectively snagging my body at the waist. I stop as he pulls me to him.

He kisses me softly on the forehead before softly saying, "Thank you for spending the evening with me." I just smile at him before proceeding to the bathroom to change clothes. Socially fucking awkward.

Quickly changing my clothes, I step to the mirror in an attempt to revitalize my hair. I stare for a moment at the reflection looking back at me, wondering what the hell I'm doing and why this guy is even interested. Shaking off my insecurity, I step out, to a whistle. He takes my hand and lifts it over my head, allowing me to twirl for him.

"Stunning," is all he says as he looks me up and down then motions to the door.

We end up at a high-end sushi restaurant called Raz. The food is amazing, the wine delicious, and the company even better. The conversation never stalls as I learn Tyler owns a very successful construction company he bought when he graduated from college with money his father left him. He grew the little mom and pop business into a multi-million dollar corporation spanning multiple states. He's an architect by education, but enjoys the hands-on feel of working side by side with his managers. He grew up in Houston and has no desire to ever relocate.

Jeff came to work for him years ago after meeting on a job site. He was nearing retirement age but couldn't afford to retire and could no longer meet the physical demands of construction, so Tyler put him to work as his driver. He's been with him ever since. It warms my heart to know even with the obvious wealth, he still strives to do what he can for people.

I tell him a little about me, giving him the rundown of my career with Craft Corners, but he's more intrigued by my personal life than my job. My mother ran off when I was little, leaving my father as a single parent. He thought education and life experience were important, hence the second language, and overall provided an incredible life for me. When he passed away five years ago, I relied heavily on my friends for familial support. I tell him about Malloree, and enjoy watching him laugh at our antics.

"I have to ask, Mila, why are you still single?" The age old question, one I hear all too frequently.

"I could ask the same of you, Tyler." I wink at him. "I didn't put a lot of emphasis on relationships when I was in college. I had a lot of friends, guys and girls, who I hung out with, but nothing ever stuck. I dated and certainly enjoyed life, but didn't find that special someone. When I got out of college, my career became my focus. I have a tight knit group of girlfriends, and oddly, none of us are married, although most of them are in committed relationships. I'm just awkward with men." I shrug, not knowing what else to say.

"I wouldn't say that. You seem to be doing just fine with me." His sentiment makes me blush.

"So what about you?"

"I've had a couple of serious relationships, but most of the women I run into see a dollar sign. That fades quickly when they realize I'm not going to rush out and marry the first good-looking woman who throws herself at me. The last couple of years I've focused my energy on growing the company, which has meant a lot of traveling and no real time for dating."

The waiter interrupts the conversation, dropping the check on the table. Tyler scoops it up, dragging his wallet out of his back pocket as the guy waits to take his card. When he returns, Tyler stands before moving my chair out for me.

I sway, not realizing the effects of the wine until this moment. He grabs my elbow to steady me and I grab his waist with both hands.

I look up to apologize to him, but when our eyes meet, the words are lost. He brushes hair out of my face with his left hand. Standing in the middle of the crowded restaurant, he leans down, pressing his lips to mine. My eyes close in response.

What was meant to be a peck quickly turns into a passionate, mind-blowing kiss with his hand on the back of my neck and my fingers digging into his hips. Our audience claps around us and it effectively sobers me enough to break free.