by J. H. Croix
No matter whether I thought my father was an asshole, he most certainly was not an idiot. It was doubtful that he invested for altruistic reasons. He loved to get involved in things at early stages, so he could get the biggest bang for his investment.
“So, what does ‘fine’ mean?” Max asked.
His expression was bland, almost inscrutable. I only hoped he couldn’t read anything into mine. I knew my cheeks were flushed, and I prayed it wasn’t too obvious in the dim lighting of the restaurant. I’d gotten a refill of the hard cider, needing something to take the edge off the anxiety spinning inside me.
I couldn’t quite believe it, but it had been a full year since I’d had sex. Max had been my last. Lest you think I was implying that I normally had a busy sex life, you can forget that idea. No, for years, I’d been a serial monogamist. At least monogamous on my side.
Max, or rather that one night with Max, had knocked me so off-balance that for once, I hadn’t gone searching for the next man to have a one-sided wishful relationship with.
When Max arched a brow, I realized my silence in response to his question might have been too long. “Fine means pretty good, I suppose. How are you?”
“Busy.” He paused to take a pull from his beer, twirling the bottle between his thumb and forefinger when he set it back on the table. All I could think was that his fingers were buried inside me during a night that had been nothing but a blur of pleasure. “So tell me, how do you like being a firefighter?”
His question startled me, if only because he’d actually remembered that was what I said I was going to do. Thanks to my online sleuthing, I was aware of a few high-profile functions Max had attended in San Francisco—fundraisers, museum openings, and the like—always with a beautiful woman on his arm. I’d largely convinced myself that he must have forgotten me entirely. I was quite certain that Max hadn’t gone without sex in the past year, yet it still surprised me that he remembered any details from our conversations.
I took a gulp of my cider and leveled my gaze with his, calling on all of my composure. It was quite necessary because having him this close, looking into his icy blue eyes and seeing the tilt of his mouth, all I wanted was to kiss him. Max made me feel wild, more forward than I usually was.
I realized my pause had again been too long for polite conversation when he cocked his head to the side. “You did say you had finished training, didn’t you?”
“I did,” I replied, nodding my head rapidly. “I like it.” I paused, taking a breath. “Actually, I love it. I took a position on a crew up in Willow Brook, a few hours north of here.”
“That’s not far outside of Anchorage, correct?”
Nodding again, I took another sip of cider.
“I’ll actually be in Anchorage for a bit soon.”
“Oh? Whatever for?”
Max smiled ruefully. “Owen and I are buying out a company there. I’ve got a lot of cleanup to do. Perhaps we can get dinner sometime.”
I stared at Max, my thoughts whirring through my mind. Max was going to be in Anchorage? So much for my idea that I would never see him again. But then, I’d already come here this weekend, knowing he would likely be here. My reckless curiosity to see him had overridden all common sense.
Max arched a brow, a gleam entering his eyes. “No dinner?”
With my rational brain practically screaming no, my wishful brain—that part of me that ran over my common sense, time and time again—was much louder and emphatic.
Yes. Hell yes. Dinner with Max? That might just be another night of heaven.
I was nodding my head before my thoughts kicked in. Max’s mouth kicked up at the corner in a teasing grin. My belly spun into a series of flips and heat slid through my veins.
“Is that a yes, you mean no? Or yes to dinner?” he asked.
I nodded and then shook my head, cementing my wacky image. I felt the flash heating my cheeks and then laughed. I was terrible at this. Shrugging sheepishly, I replied, “That was a yes to dinner.”
My voice came out breathy, and I mentally berated myself. This was a bad idea. I didn’t need to be agreeing to have dinner with a man who had held sway in my fantasies for over a year, all because of one single night.
What little I had gathered from Ivy about Max was that she considered him a nice guy, and a guy who didn’t get serious with anyone. She claimed not to know why, but she was positive someone had broken his heart and made him close off.
I’d spun that little bit of information into a man who could love someone only if it was the right person. That was another terrible habit of mine. Falling for a man who wasn’t emotionally available and didn’t intend to be. I convinced myself, somewhere deep down inside, underneath it all, the man in question would fall for me.
Max’s blue eyes darkened. “Yes to dinner then. Now tell me, what do you think about being a firefighter?”
His entire focus was on me. It was intense and made me want to squirm. After gulping some cider, I took a breath, wishing my pulse would slow down. It was all but galloping.
“I love it. I needed a change of pace.”
“From what?”
I surprised myself by answering honestly, but then, I figured it wasn’t as if he couldn’t get the answers from Ivy. “Well, my father runs a business, mostly investments. He wanted me to take it over, and I’m not interested. Not at all.”
“I suppose I should tell you that I know your father.”
This shouldn’t have surprised me. Not with what I had learned about Max since our night together. His business circles most likely bumped into my father’s, especially given his connections with Owen.
“Oh,” I managed. I wondered if Max knew before he even met me. “How long have you known him?”
Max took a pull from his beer. “A while. I met him through Owen. If I were more polite, I would say he’s a nice guy. But I’m not that polite. I happen to think he’s an asshole. Even though, I’m surprised the money wasn’t a lure for you,” he said bluntly.
I laughed aloud, startled at Max’s bluntness and somehow delighted by it as well. Most people played nice when it came to my father. He invested worldwide in many fields, and usually people wanted to stay on his good side. It was a breath of fresh air to have Max simply not give a shit.
Max shrugged at my laugh. “I’ll take it as a win that I didn’t offend you.”
“Not at all. My father is an asshole. Perhaps I would’ve wanted to take over the company, if he hadn’t been so awful to work with. Combining his asshole factor with the fact that I have no interest in investments just made it easier for me to cut ties.”
“How does your father feel about you being a firefighter?”
Sadness washed through me because even if the decision felt good, I felt alone in the world. Granted, I’d felt alone long before I made this decision, but my father now ignored me more fully than he ever had before.
“He doesn’t like it,” I finally said. “We haven’t spoken in about six months. But, it’s not like we had a great relationship before that. If you know my father, you know that he likes to throw his weight around. When he doesn’t get what he wants, he’s a jerk.”
I reached for another sip of cider only to discover it was empty. That was probably a good thing; I didn’t need to get any more tipsy than I already was. I didn’t need to be emotional, on top of needy, on top of lusting after Max.
“So tell me, Max,” Ivy began from where she sat at an angle across from us, conveniently interrupting our conversation, “how long do you plan to stay in Anchorage?”
Max smoothly shifted gears, glancing over to her and smiling. “At least a month. Perhaps longer. It depends on how things look.” His gaze shifted to Owen, and he shook his head slowly. “I get to do the messy part of this purchase—scouring their finances to see how much of a mess we need to clean up. Meanwhile, you and Owen will do the fun part … dig through all the patents and take what you want.”
Ivy laughed, shaking her head.
“That’s not so much fun either. Sometimes things get icky when this happens. But we’re offering to keep on their engineers, right?” she asked, glancing from Owen to Max.
Owen’s arm was resting around her shoulders, and he leaned over to press a kiss to her temple. “Of course.”
Chapter Eleven
Max
The scent of Harlow wrapped itself around me. I was experiencing another first with her. I couldn’t say if I’d ever recalled the scent of a woman before. Yet, I knew Harlow’s by memory. If I hadn’t seen her tonight, but I’d gotten close enough, I would’ve known she was there by scent alone. She smelled like honey and vanilla with a hint of musk. For fuck’s sake, this woman had me by the balls and she didn’t even know it.
I could’ve asked who might be here tonight, and then I’d have been prepared to face Harlow. I’d been trying so damn hard to compartmentalize in my mind, to tell myself I’d exaggerated the effect she had on me, that I hadn’t done any reconnaissance.
There was that, and the fact that I’d mentally scoffed at myself for even considering trying to find out if she’d be here. I didn’t let women affect me like this. It had never been a problem for me. All Harlow had to do was simply exist on the same plane, space, and time with me, and I was caught in a riptide of lust, need, and something else.
You suggested she meet you for dinner. Are you out of your fucking mind?
The answer to that question was a definitive yes. But the effect Harlow had on me was so profound I didn’t give a damn. In fact, just now, I was considering that I wanted to spend the night with her. Tonight. Deductive reasoning brought me to the conclusion that she was likely staying here at the lodge.
I didn’t come to Diamond Creek often. My life was too busy for jaunts up to Alaska. That’s something you need to change. So true, and I knew it.
I shook those thoughts away because I didn’t need to dwell on my internal restlessness. The compass kept spinning without a clear direction, even when I willfully forced myself in one. Losing myself in Harlow was such a temptation, I couldn’t not consider it. And yet, hundreds of warning sirens were going off at full blast in my mind at the idea.
I was normally a rational man, and yet, my intellect was no match for the fire Harlow set ablaze inside me. I could feel the heat of her body, from where I sat next to her. My cock was hard, pressing against my zipper.
Control wasn’t usually an issue for me. In fact, even though I’d once had a woman stomp all over my heart, when it came to sex, I’d always been in control. That was saying something, considering I’d been young the last time any woman affected me like this. For men—at least from my experience—the years of adolescence and the early years of adulthood were mostly dictated by one’s cock.
Harlow’s hair was down, its dark glossy sheen glinting under the dim lighting in the restaurant. Her wide eyes reminded me of chocolate and espresso, two pleasures I happened to love. Yet, they didn’t hold a candle to looking into her gaze. Her eyes were so expressive. I hadn’t forgotten seeing her walls fall when she let go.
Her shields were up now, her gaze guarded, with only hints of vulnerability flickering in her eyes. Unlike at the wedding, when she’d been wearing that slip of a dress, tonight she wore a fitted cotton shirt of rich blue. It dipped down in a V, conveniently offering me teasing glimpses of the shadowed valley between her breasts. She’d paired her shirt with jeans and cowboy boots. When she stood to walk to the restroom a few minutes ago, all I could envision were those cowboy boots on her bare legs as she wrapped them around my waist.
Owen said something to me, dragging my attention away from Harlow. This was definitely not the place to let my thoughts get lost in her, not surrounded by a group as we were. If I were being honest with myself, it was impossible for me to be near Harlow and not have half of my attention on her. But, I was a gentleman and managed to shift enough attention to Owen. Within minutes, I was deep into a conversation with him about our latest acquisition. We’d met in Anchorage for a mere two days to finalize our purchase. I was here at the lodge for the weekend, and then I’d be heading back up to the company we now owned.
The next few weeks would be tense; they always were. The offices were filled with people who worked for the previous owners, and this could make for some tense interactions. We owned everything now, down to the paper clips in the trays on their desks. Owen always volunteered his time during this phase, but I knew he hated it.
Not that I liked it. Yet, I supposed I was more dispassionate about it than him. I tried to keep it in the back of my mind that we were good bosses, that even if people there were loyal to their former owners, they had to learn that their jobs had been at risk by virtue of the poor decisions made. We didn’t bash anyone. That wasn’t how we approached these situations. Under the best of circumstances, it would be an awkward few weeks. The idea of being within casting distance of Harlow during those weeks made it quite appealing.
It got late, and the group started to break apart. Harlow stood to give Ivy a hug good night before Ivy rounded the table to drop a kiss on my cheek. “Thanks for coming, Max. It was good to see you,” she said.
“Of course. It was great catching up.”
Somehow, Harlow slipped away when I wasn’t paying attention. At the last moment, I saw the swing of her hair as she turned through the archway near the reception area.
I hastily snagged my jacket and followed her, relieved the social niceties were over. If you had told me I would be chasing a woman through a ski lodge simply because I wanted her, I would have told you that was fucking insane. And yet, that was exactly what I was doing. My stride was long, and I was through the reception area in a flash, catching sight of Harlow’s dark hair and her gorgeous backside. I hadn’t forgotten the way those silky locks felt wrapped around my hand as I buried myself deep inside her from behind.
We’d gotten our mileage out of that single night. I was fairly certain I’d taken her at least three times, if not more. I was usually a man of precision, yet that night had been nothing but a blur of raw, hot lust and pleasure.
It was also the only night where I stayed in the same bed after sex. I usually took care of matters and then left. But when time lost all meaning, well, I supposed things were different then.
Rounding the corner into the elevator lobby, I found Harlow staring out the windows facing over the mountains. There was already a decent amount of snow on the peaks, even though it was only late November. A half moon was rising behind the mountains, its silvery light cast across the silhouette of the mountains dark against the sky.
I walked to her side. “Harlow.”
She jumped a little when I spoke her name, her breath drawing in sharply. Her espresso gaze swung to mine, a flush cresting on her cheeks. For fuck’s sake. I was used to feeling balanced; frankly, to feeling as though I had the power in most situations.
I wasn’t that guy. One of those assholes who needed to swing his weight around, metaphorically swinging his dick around. No, rather, I enjoyed being able to call the shots in my life. It grated at me slightly that Harlow illuminated how much I took for granted. Especially when it came to women. I wasn’t accustomed to calculating, but with her, everything was a calculation. Because I wanted her that much. Something shimmered under the surface of my raw desire, driving me closer, throwing me off-balance.
We simply stared at each other for a few beats. An elevator reached the ground floor, the distinct pinging sound echoing across the tiled space. Harlow spun around quickly, striding for the elevator as the doors slid open with a soft whoosh. I followed her. There wasn’t even a question about that.
Once we were in the elevator, she glanced to me. “Which floor?”
I had already noticed that we were on the same floor. “Three.”
The number three glowed soft blue from where she had already pressed it. She stepped back, one hand curling around the railing that ran around the elevator, the other reaching up to twirl a lock of her glossy hair around
her finger.
My brain fuzzed offline. I was stepping closer to Harlow before I calculated how it might be interpreted. When I was right beside her, the sweet hint of vanilla drifted to me and I could see the flutter of her pulse in her neck, and my entire body tightened, need flashing through me.
With the depth of my attraction to her, I had been in bad enough shape as it was. It was all made worse by the fact that I knew precisely how it felt to be with her. I knew the silky soft feel of her skin, the clench of her channel around me, and how wild she was. For a woman as guarded and controlled as she came across, when the walls fell, it was as if everything she’d been holding back poured out.
She never looked away from me, and I saw the flicker of something in her gaze. I didn’t know what the hell it was about her eyes, but they had a straight line to my heart, which wasn’t something I thought about much. With nothing more than a heated look from Harlow, it thumped erratically. All the while, I was driven to her, unable to step back. I took another step closer, lifting my hand and catching that lock of hair sliding in a circle around her finger. Curling my hand around hers, I moved closer, savoring the hitch in her breath.
There were mere inches separating us. She took a breath, and her breasts pressed against me. Her pulse fluttered wildly and her flush deepened.
“We had ground rules,” she whispered.
For a beat, I was confused about what she meant, and then I remembered. “Ah, we did. Refresh my memory.”
I could sense her trying to batten down the hatches, to pull herself in. She didn’t push me away, so I took that as a win.
“We said just once. There would be no expectations if we saw each other again.”
