Sincerely, The Puck Bunny (Totally Pucked #2)(7)



“Ah yes, Mr. Wilson. My name is Margaret and I run the inn. I'd be happy to get you checked in and show you to your room.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

Margaret types away on the computer at the desk and then looks up and smiles, her eyes kind and warm. “Darn it. My computer is down from the storm. Let me just write this down and I’ll input everything once it’s back up.”

Using the pen next to her notebook, she jots down a few messy lines then looks back up and smiles widely at me. It immediately makes me feel at ease.

“Okay, got you squared away. Breakfast is at eight. I drop new towels off every other day, and there’s a phone in your room if you need to call down for anything. As I was saying, unfortunately due to this storm, our phones and internet have been down, but we’re hoping it’ll clear up soon.”

“Not a problem. Thanks.”

Her smile is kind and genuine. “Follow me, and I can sho-”

The front door behind me bursts open, a strong gust of wind sending it flying against the opposite wall, almost knocking me over, but the girl stumbling over the threshold actually does knock me over. She tumbles into me with so much force, it knocks us both straight to the ground.

The hardwood below me creaks as we hit it, and her elbow goes straight to my balls, and I immediately groan. Low and deep, I feel the pain radiate up to my stomach, making me nauseous.

“Oh, fuck.”

She’s got to be all of five feet tall, at least a foot shorter than me, but she just tackled us both to the ground like a fucking linebacker with my balls being the only casualty.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’m so so so so-” the tiny terrorist apologizes profusely. I can hardly see her face because it’s being hidden by a curtain of blonde hair, but I can faintly see the hazel, honey irises of her wide eyes staring back at me.

“'It’s fine, I’m fine. You’re good.”

“Oh goodness, are you okay, my dear?” Margaret asks, crouching down next to us to attempt to help the girl up. Margaret hauls her up by the arm, and together, she gets into a standing position. Once she’s back on her feet, she pushes her dripping blonde curls back from her face, and even though she looks like a wet dog, I can’t help but notice… she’s fucking gorgeous.

She’s completely soaked, not a dry spot on her. Her pale yellow t-shirt sticks tightly to her frame, accentuating her hips and figure. I can see the outline of her lace-covered bra, but quickly drag my eyes back up before I look like a fucking creep.

I lean up on my elbows and get up off the wet hardwood, facing both her and Margaret.

“Again, I am so, so sorry. My sandal... I think it caught on the porch, and the wind, I just... I’m sorry.” She smiles, her cheeks red with embarrassment. Hazel, gold-flecked eyes, long pale blonde hair, a perfect row of teeth and peachy pink lips.

Getting stuck in the middle of nowhere during a raging thunderstorm with a beautiful girl is not the kind of luck I have, but fuck if I won’t take it.

“No big deal. No harm, no foul.” I pick up my duffle bag from the floor and Margaret looks at the girl. “Give me just a moment, dear, let me show this guest to his room and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

The blonde beauty nods and waves goodbye at me awkwardly. I give her a smirk and follow behind Margaret. We walk down a long hallway with antique paintings on the wall along with old portraits of people from different time periods.

“You’ll have to forgive my granddaughter Maddison, she’s a bit of a klutz.”

I just shake my head. “It’s no problem. It’s treacherous out there. I’m a big guy, and I almost got knocked over by that wind.”

She smiles. "Here we are.” She leads me down a short hallway with only two doors that are opposite of each other. Seems pretty private, aside from the door facing mine. It’s on its own wing off from the rest of the rooms. Pulling an old skeleton key from her apron, Margaret hands it over to me. “This is your room. If you need anything, please let me know, and I’ll be happy to help in anyway. I’m hoping the phone and internet come back up soon.”

“Not a problem. Thanks for getting me set up so quickly.”

“Oh, it’s nothing darling. We're happy to have you here at Brickside. Please let me know if you need anything at all.” She smiles once more then slips out of the door.

Silence settles around me, covering me in calmness. I’m cut off from the rest of the world right now, literally. No internet or cable because of the storm. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see that the signal bar is flatlined, meaning I’m truly cut off from the rest of the world by being here.

Not that I ever get anything but the occasional email, and a few calls and texts. After everything blew up a couple of years ago, I quit social media. It was honestly the best thing I ever did, and I have no intention of ever getting it back. The only thing I ever keep up with is the stupid Puck Bunny, since I seem to be a sadist and love punishment, and a few sports sites. The rest, I steer clear from; it’s better that way.

I set my bag down on the dresser and look around. A four-poster king-size bed sits in the middle of the room with a canopy covering the top. There are matching nightstands on each side and the entire room feels cozy and comfortable.

Turns out, maybe coming to the middle of nowhere to run away from your problems isn’t such a bad thing after all.

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