Crazy for You by Maddie James

It’s
peak season.”
    Geesh. Of course. “You don’t have anything?”
Andrew willed himself not to panic. No car. No luggage. No
room?
    “No, sir. I’m sorry.”
    With his hand drawn into a fist, Andrew
pounded the desk. “Call me a cab, I’m getting out of here.” He
paced several feet in front of the desk.
    “There is no cab service, sir.”
    “Then how do I get out of here?”
    “Sir, may I remind you that we are deep into
Jamaica and there is a bus driver’s strike—”
    “So you are telling me there is no way out of
here?”
    “Unless you would like to hike or swim or
snorkel your way home.” Todd chuckled at his humor.
    Andrew wasn’t amused.
    Staring off past Todd’s head, Andrew had
nearly forgotten Tasha was standing by his side until she laid a
hand on his forearm.
    “Do you have a reservation for Tasha Smith?”
she inquired.
    He smiled at her then lowered his gaze to the
books, running his finger over the reservation list. “Ah, yes. Here
it is, room 214, Oceanview, king-size bed, no smoking. Just one
minute and I’ll get your key.” He turned to the board behind him
and Tasha turned her smile on Andrew.
    “Problem solved,” she said.
    Andrew eyed her. “What problem is
solved?”
    “Your reservation problem.”
    “You’re going to give me your room?”
    Tasha smiled more broadly and chuckled. “No,
but I’ll share.”
    Andrew stepped back and put out his hands.
“No. Definitely not. I’ll think of something else.”
    Todd returned and handed the keys to her
along with a welcome packet. “Hope you enjoy your stay, Ms. Smith.
Please let us know if you need anything when you get to your room.
Dial seven on your phone for my desk.” He grinned at her and
smiling broadly back, Tasha took the things from him.
    “There is one thing,” she asked. “Do you have
roll-away beds here?”
    “Why yes, I think we have a couple.”
    “I’d like one in my room. Mr. Powell will be
staying with me until his reservation is straightened out.”
    Andrew grasped her by the arm. “Now, look. I
didn’t agree to this.”
    “But there’s nothing else.”
    “Surely there’s something.” He turned back to
the man. “Surely there’s someone else I could room with, even
temporarily?”
    Todd brought a finger up to his lips. “Yes,
I’d forgotten, perhaps there is someone.”
    “Is this a male?”
    “Oh, yes.”
    “Does he...wear clothes?”
    “Um, yes, he does.”
    “Then I’ll take it.”
    “I’ll have to talk to Samuel first,
though.”
    “Is that him?”
    “Yes. He’s the resort meditator. A kind,
gentle man. I’m sure you’ll like him.”
    Andrew breathed a sigh of relief. Finally,
someone halfway normal.
    “He doesn’t go nude, does he?
    “Oh no,” he replied. “He usually wears a
toga.”
    A guffaw of laughter exited Tasha’s mouth.
Andrew glared at her.
    “Bring me the roll-away,” Tasha said.
    “Do not bring the roll-away,” Andrew
countered. “We won’t be needing it.”
    Tasha lifted one brow. “Oh? And are you
planning to share my bed?”
    Horrified, Andrew balked. “Uh...no! I mean.”
His face turned scarlet. “I mean...”
    The man looked from Andrew to Tasha, who
nodded her head to him. “I’ll have Josh bring one up after while.
Just in case. In the meantime I’ll have to talk to Samuel about
sharing his room. So perhaps you should go with Ms. Smith in the
interim.”
    “Josh?”
    “Yes. Josh. My right hand man.
Jack-of-all-trades around here. Assistant cook, too.”
    “Can he drive a bus?”
    “No. Sorry to say. Union contract.”
    “Great,” Andrew muttered. “That’s just great.
I’ve landed somewhere between Oz and the Bermuda Triangle. Togas.
Maintenance men-slash-cooks. Nude beaches. Bus strikes. No room. No
luggage.” Somewhere along the line, his idea of plush beach resort
was fading. This place appeared to be some sort of wacky cross
between Cheers and The Beverly Hillbillies. Jamaican-style.
    Tasha laughed, “At least you