#5 Three of a Kind - Tri Chineal de Chineal

Lyle entered first as I took extra time to lean my bike against the ivy covered wall at the side of the door. The paper bag that held my fruit was soggy and it ripped under their weight. Hastily, I gathered the loose fruit and jars of honey in my arms and stumbled through the open oak door.

I entered the foyer, lingering on the skinny oriental rug that ran from the doorway to the staircase directly ahead of me. I expected Grace to be there at the desk, ready to scold me, yet she was nowhere in sight.

Instead two burly men stood with their backs to me at the check-in counter. Both wore similar rain jackets that were partially dry due to the warmth of the foyer. The taller one wore a black ball cap and I could sense his impatience from across the room as he shifted his footing back and forth on the wooden floor boards. The old floor groaned under his impatient adjustments.

I flinched as Lyle released the door and it slammed behind me. A gust of wind and rain rushed through and another shiver tingled my spine. That door was getting higher on the to do list by the minute.

The men turned abruptly at the noise to face me, annoyance written on their features.

"Hey girly can we get some help?" The taller one snorted, focusing his attention on me - I assumed because he noticed the White Pine logo printed on my soaked shirt. They ignored Lyle who had turned her back to them, suddenly intent with studying the door and poking at the metal hinges.

"One moment please." I forced a smile trying desperately to keep my eyes from rolling into the back of my head. One sentence and the man already managed to present himself as a jerk.

I walked past the men and dropped the produce in the sink. Before I retreated I caught my image in the window. One look down confirmed my thoughts, not only was my shirt drenched but the fruits left red stains across my stomach and chest on the lower half of the White Pine logo.

"Shit." I muttered grabbing a washcloth to dab away the stain.

The sound of irritated foot taps carried their way into the kitchen and I abandoned my useless effort. This time I allowed my eyes to roll. Where in the hell was everyone?

I calmly returned to the foyer and took a seat behind the mahogany counter, ignoring the slight squish I made when my soaked bottom connected with the faux leather seat.

Mustering all the civility I could manage I addressed the men. "I apologize for the wait gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?"

The taller man spoke first. He was maybe ten years older and half a foot taller than I. His light blond hair poked out from his dark ball cap and when he spoke I could see his that underneath his rain jacket his broad shoulders were tense.

"No." He replied impatiently. "We need a room for two nights."

His traveling companion, who was a few inches shorter than the blond man stood silently, his brown eyes trained on me. His manner and appearance was similar to his traveling companion, solid build and a powerful stance. Yet, he seemed calmer and his dark skin still held beads of water that had not dried yet. Unlike his shaggy headed friend the shorter man was bald and his smooth head glistened in the light of the antique chandelier.

His calm watchful gaze reminded me of Lyle's momentarily and I looked past the men to the doorway where I had left her. She was gone. To her room perhaps? I shook my head and refocused on the task in front of me.

Now was not the time to let my curiosity distract me. I surveyed the bookings for this week.

"We've got a two bed available for $400 for the two nights." I pointed up the staircase indicating where the room was.

The taller man nodded gruffly and reached for his wallet slapping down four hundred dollar bills. I frowned at the crisp bills briefly before stashing them under the counter. I figured they were not the type who would enjoy my inspection routine. Still, that didn't stop me from pondering the coincidence that they were the second guest in two nights to pay with hundreds and no reservation.

I handed the shorter man the key. "You're in room #8. Up the stairs and to your right. We serve breakfast 7am-9am, if you need anything else let me know. I just need you to sign in here." I slid the logbook to them. The shorter man who still hadn't spoken took the pen and signed their names in a quick scribble, never lifting the pen from the paper.

I turned the book to face me. "Enjoy your stay Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones." An air of suspicion in my voice as I looked from the book to the two men. No first names were written and they didn't relinquish where they'd traveled from either.

The men didn't seem amused by my apprehensive state and I bit back any further sarcastic remarks.

The blond haired man started up the stairs carrying an army green duffle bag over his shoulder. His partner paused at the base of the staircase. He set down his matching duffle and retraced his steps to the wall that ran down the side of the stairs. I watched him as he took a close look at the framed sketch of White Pine that hung a few feet below the railing.

Apparently not satisfied with only one sense the man then touched it, but his movement was too rough as the frame wobbled and fell to the floor. I blew out a breath and rushed over to him. I could have sworn I mentioned to Grace that we needed a new nail for the piece.

He didn't make an effort to pick up the work or apologize as I bent to retrieve it from the ground. He ignored me as I inspected it, the fall hadn't caused any major damage except for a not too noticeable chip in the wooden frame. I dusted it off and hung it back on the nail carefully.

"That nail was meant to hold a smaller painting." He observed impassively. His voice was incredibly deep, his words pouring out precisely and rhythmically.

"I'll make sure our handyman knows." I gave him a tight smile making a mental note to remind Grace - who was for all intents and purposes our handy woman.

I paused for a moment and studied him for the second time while his gaze rested on the newly hung sketch. He had perfect posture that exuded confidence and a little arrogance showcased by his lack of care to pick up the frame. His sharp jaw line ran parallel to the ground before it curved into his chin. He seemed out of place at our potted plant and embroidered pillow filled home.

The taller man had the same essence about him, definitely arrogant and impatient. Had they come to hike perhaps? Surely two men with such chilly attitudes and so staunchly built had come to hike or rock climb.

Where they lovers I wondered? The bald man had signed both their names. But then again they hadn't shown much warmth to each other and rock climbing alone wasn't all that safe.

"Did you need anything else Mr...?" I prompted when I noticed I'd been staring at him for a little too long.

"Smith." He answered turning to give me a quick once over. "I am fine thank you." He gave the sketch another beat then apparently satisfied Smith skirted a path in front of me to the stair case. His thick soled work boots echoed with each step through the empty foyer then faded into the hallway, leaving me alone.

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hmmm...  something seems a little off about these fellas.

Hope everyone is well, comment & vote if you like ! xo