After having spent most of their ride awestruck by the breathtaking spectacle of the lush, orange-tinged countryside, Ivy was not expecting an equally charming building in the middle of it.
It looked fairly ancient, probably even lacking some of the facilities most city hotels were surely equipped with. But she did not mind. They had chosen this place precisely because they needed a reprieve from the daily pressures, pollution, and chaos of San Francisco.
She looked around. The sun was already hanging low on the horizon. The soft hush of the late-afternoon breeze whispered through the stillness around them, carrying the faintest hint of bird and cricket chirps, which were the only sounds that could be heard for miles.
She took a refreshing breath as she picked up her luggage.
“Perfect…” she said, hauling the case with renewed energy. “Just perfect.”
The old, weather-beaten building stood before them like a sore amid the otherwise warm autumn countryside.
Thomas had expected a more refined establishment, perhaps like the beautiful, inviting cabin-like lodging houses so often portrayed in romance films.
He looked at Ivy. She did not seem the least bit concerned that they were the only two people standing outside the creepy-looking hotel they had decided to book for their third anniversary trip.
He looked around. Dusk was approaching and soon darkness would fall.
What then?
What if anything happened to them?
He took out his mobile phone on instinct to check the time—or at least that was what he had convinced himself. In reality, it was an excuse to confirm that he had all the emergency contacts within reach.
Until—
He froze.
Up there, beyond the safety of San Francisco…
There was no reception signal.
He blanched.
Damn. We’re screwed.