Chapter 2

“This way, bro.” Mitch adjusted Ryker’s direction slightly, and through half-closed eyes, Ryker saw a woman with a clipboard in the distance. “Hope the hotel transport is right outside. I don’t fancy slinging you over my shoulder.”

“Har, fucking har.” Ryker drew in a deep breath and shook his head and tried to walk with a more determined stride, Mitch chuckled as he kept pace.

“Buenos tardes, Good evening, my name’s, Maria.” She greeted them wide a wide, easy smile. “Are you Ryker Holland and Mitch Solomon?”

“That’s right.” Mitch spoke up, for which Ryker was grateful. He doubted he could make his mouth form intelligible words.

“Look, my friend here hasn’t slept for the best part of twenty-four hours. Any time now he’ll crash, and nothing will wake him. Can we keep walking?”

“Oh, yes, certainly.” Maria looked anxiously at Ryker who hoped he was smiling reassuringly. “Come this way. Let me take one of those cases. You know, um…”

“Yep. I know. In case he thinks the terminal floor is a good place to sleep.” Mitch laughed as Ryker growled at him.

In all honesty, Ryker was seriously struggling to stay awake. Although his eyes closed once or twice on the way to the minibus, he managed to make it on board safely.

A moment later Mitch was shaking him.

“We’re here, bro. Come on. Last few meters, then you can sleep for as long as you like.”

“Fuck.” Ryker groaned. He’d fallen asleep the minute he’d sat down. He felt totally disorientated.

“It’s all good. Just take your time. The cases are already being taken to our treehouse. All we have to do it get there ourselves. If you’re not up to it, there’s a room here where you can crash.”

“I’ll make it.” Ryker hated being a nuisance, but he found it impossible to sleep on planes and now he was crashing. “Not far.” I’m not embarrassing us on our first day here.

“Do you need any help?” At the sound of the new voice Ryker experienced an unexpected rush of adrenaline.

He looked up and met the concerned gaze of one of the hotel staff members, who stood next to Maria.

“Just tired.” Ryker offered a wry smile. “Long journey.”

“Where are they staying?” The stranger asked and Ryker decided he really liked the man’s accented tone.

“Indian Face Treehouse.” Maria held up a key. “I was going to go with them. You’re off duty.”

“Just a few minutes’ detour. You go on. I’ll take the key, if you look after your friend.”

“I can manage.” Ryker drew himself to his full height, but it still left him a few inches shorter than the other man whose grin made him want to smile despite a mix of exhaustion and irritation.

“He’s just overtired, bro.” Mitch tugged gently at Ryker’s arm. “Come on, Ry. Let’s get you to a bed.”

“Bed. Yeah.” Ryker found himself looking straight into the stranger’s eyes, which were warm and dark.

“Bed. Yes. Go.” The stranger chuckled and Ryker was certain his insides had just melted at the sound.

As much as Ryker wanted to make it to their treehouse under his own steam, he increasingly leaned on Mitch. He kept enough awareness to hear the stranger speak one more time.

“This is it. I love these rooms, spacious and airy, and the bathroom is amazing. Not that I think your friend will care about that tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow. I do the presentation to welcome guests and give you an orientation to the hotel and its services. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, goodnight.” Mitch spoke before Ryker could add his own thanks.

At least he thought it was thanks, then he was moving again, before being stripped down to his briefs and settled in a large, cool bed. He murmured heartfelt appreciation.

“You sleep, bro. Wake up whenever. Text me when you do. I’ll already be at the beach, if I know you.”

“Thanks.” Ryker forced the word past uncooperative lips before his world went black.2

Light attacked Ryker’s eyes relentlessly and finally he rolled over to escape it, then slowly opened his eyes. Reaching for his cellphone, he checked the time.

“Fuck. It’s nearly lunchtime.” As he lay there, he tried to make sense of his fragmented memories of arriving at the hotel. When he remembered the hotel worker escorting them to the treehouse, a flush of embarrassment started at his toes and incinerated his entire body. “What a great way to make his acquaintance. At least I won’t have to see him, again.”

For some reason that notion only made Ryker feel worse. With a grunt, he sat up and texted Mitch. A few seconds later, his friend’s reply came back, along with a picture with Mitch’s tanned feet, white sand, and blue ocean.