The receptionist greeted us with a warm smile, ‘Welcome to the Inn at Fontanel Professor Fitzpatrick, my name is Ann and I hope you will enjoy your stay.’ I raised my eyes at the use of my name and title. The receptionist saw my surprise and said, ‘You are the last of our guests to check in, so it had to be you. We only have the six suites here. You are in the Grand Southern suite, you were lucky we had a last minute cancelation.’ She looked at me speculatively, ‘The original reservation was for two nights, will you be only staying the one night?’ I looked at Zoe and she looked hopefully at me. ‘Tell you what, lets extend the stay for the extra night,’ I said. ‘We should be able to make Denver in two days if we push it.’ The receptionist nodded in agreement ‘This place is amazing,’ I said as I looked around the entrance hall. I registered us and Ann didn’t even flicker at our different surnames. Very professional I thought and made a mental note to increase the gratuities I was. Reach up further to run my hands up your back to your shoulders. Close my eyes. Kiss you. *** ‘What?’ you ask. I’ve been staring again haven’t I. Damn my brain! I blame you, you’re teasing me now with your words, putting ideas in my mind. Must be good. Must not touch. Argh! Walking back to the car we nudge, playfully trying to push each other into lamp-posts, bollards. OK it’s an excuse, on my part at least, I just want to touch you. This may kill me by the end of the day, why do I say such silly things? In the car I drive, you rest your hand on my leg, teasing me, I make you take it back. Rules are rules. As soon as I do I kick myself, mentally obviously, what the hell am I thinking? You want to touch me, I want to touch you, we break every other bloody rule we set, why not this one as well? Because you warned me this would happen of course. That you’d want to ‘indulge’ me, and then you’d feel bad. And then I’d feel bad. And I don’t want to spoil the good memories I have of this by.
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