Though I was sure my very long trip cross-country had been the true culprit, the amazingly comfortable bed I’d found myself in when I awoke surely hadn’t helped matters. Neither had the soft sounds of boat whistles, waves, and bird cries from just outside the picture window in my room. A room I hadn’t even had the chance to check out before I’d fallen face-first into bed… how many hours ago? I managed a stretch across the distance to the bedside table to turn the alarm clock toward me. Shit. 10:00 A.M. I’d been out for more than twelve hours. My arm dropped like deadweight and I closed my eyes again, wanting nothing more than to double that time, but I knew I had a flight to catch and one hell of a drive before I’d make it back to the airport, and none of that was happening before I had a chance to face off with a certain Cassidy Whalen. Hauling myself out of bed with a groan and a stretch, I made my way across the room, feet dragging and all, to take my cellphone off the charger and check my messages.
