Yvette collapsed over the table with a loud laugh. “That is so not like you.”
Caleb was grinning at her, shaking his head. “That is so very Yve of you.”
Yvette slapped his arm, pretending to be offended. “Hey.”
He shrugged. “What? It’s true.”
Yvette didn’t argue the point. They all knew it was true. Of the three of them, she would have been voted most likely to make out with the billionaire. She nodded. “He does sound like my type.”
Caleb laughed. “By type, I’m assuming you mean a player?” He was teasing but she nodded in agreement. One thing that could be said for Yvette—she was extremely self-aware. Her addiction to commitment-phobic jerks was no secret.
Kat found herself bristling at that description. “I didn’t say he was a player. He’s just—”
“Hot,” Yvette finished.
“Powerful,” Caleb added.
True and true. “Yes, but he’s also… nice.” The word sounded weird coming out. It didn’t seem to fit the burly, sexy, manly-man image she’d just portrayed. But there were no two ways about it. Aside from keeping his name a secret, he’d been thoughtful. Sweet, even.
After she’d bailed on yet another day of colleague bonding using her “sprained ankle” as an excuse, he’d come to her room with a heaping platter of food for lunch to make up for making her miss out on breakfast while they’d hashed out the finer points of their new arrangement.
“Nice or not, this guy has got to be a player.” Caleb took a sip of his beer. “I mean, did he ask for your number before you left?”
“No,” she said slowly. But then, she hadn’t exactly stuck around long enough to say goodbye. Embarrassment crept over her and she took a sip of her wine rather than admit that she’d sort of snuck out of the lodge without saying goodbye.
She’d left him in the library where they spent most of the night, talking and laughing, and had gone to her room to gather the last of her things before the flight and had kinda sorta, not gone back to say goodbye like she was supposed to.
She’d never done well with goodbyes.
“No,” Caleb repeated, as if it was a done deal. “Of course he didn’t ask for a number.”
Well, that settled that. In Caleb’s eyes, at least, Bryce was officially a player. Not that it mattered. She shrugged. “So what if he is? Maybe I was the player here, did you ever think of that?”
They both ignored her.
Yvette stuck a cherry into her mouth. “He does sound like my type. They’re nice as can be until they’re done with you.”
Kat ignored that particularly bitter remark. Odds were Yvette’s latest loser had just ended things. If he’d ended it via text like the last guy, Kat was singlehandedly going to track down this jerk and rip him a new one.
“Who isn’t your type?” Caleb teased, nudging Yvette’s arm in a clear attempt to get her out of her funk. He knew just as well as Kat that an unhappy Yvette was zero fun to be around, especially if she was sipping cocktails. She had a tendency to drunk-cry, and then drunk-dial, which was usually followed by more drunk crying.
Luckily Yvette grinned, seeming to snap out of whatever miserable path she’d been about to go down. Batting her lashes at Caleb she answered, “You. You’re not my type.”
Which was not exactly true. Caleb and Yvette had gone on one date freshman year of college, so presumably at some point she’d thought he was her type. For that one evening, at least.
But considering Yvette’s poor taste in men and Caleb’s ridiculous dreams of settling down with the perfect woman, they’d been a disaster waiting to happen. Luckily for everyone, they’d decided to be friends. As Yvette’s roommate, Kat had become friends with him as well. By the time freshman year was over they were a well-cemented threesome, in a strictly platonic way.
Caleb wasn’t Kat’s type either. He was way too pretty. Kat had decided long ago that she didn’t want the guy she was seeing to be prettier than her, and Caleb absolutely was. This worked out well for his day job, since he starred on one of the last remaining daytime dramas.
Caleb insisted on calling them “daytime dramas,” whereas the rest of the world knew them as soap operas.
It also presumably worked out for him in his real life because women threw themselves at him. Sometimes they were fans, but other times… well, other times they were just fans of his impossibly perfect features.
Kat found herself mentally comparing Bryce to Caleb. They were both undeniably handsome. So why was it that Caleb did nothing for her whereas just the memory of Bryce had her flustered and sweaty?
Pheromones, she decided. When in doubt, blame pheromones.
But heavenly scents aside, Bryce had the manly man thing going on, whereas Caleb just played one on TV. In reality, he was vainer about his looks than any girl she knew and used more hair products than she and Yvette combined.
Bryce, on the other hand… Her mind pulled up a delicious memory of his hands on her waist when he’d lifted her into the chopper he’d hired to show her the sights while playing hooky from the nature hike her co-workers had gone on.
They’d both agreed that being above nature was a decent workaround to her ‘no nature’ rule. And now, just thinking about the breathtaking expanse of trees and mountaintops…
She sighed. She supposed a girl could get used to nature when it didn’t involve insects and rodents.
“Earth to Kat.” Yvette waved a hand in front of her face.
She sat up straighter. “Sorry, what?”
Yvette’s dark eyebrows drew together, suspicion written all over her face. “What’s going on with you?”
Kat shook her head. “Nothing.”
Caleb reached for the bowl of tortilla chips in the middle of the table. “Really? Because you look weird.”
She shook her head. “Nope. I’m good.” She reached for a chip as well and tossed it in her mouth. “All good.”
“Good,” Yvette said. “Because we were just saying how great it is that you’re too smart to fall for a guy like that.”
Kat gave a murmur of agreement. Smart, that was her. As the only business major in a group of friends with art and theater majors, it was generally understood that she was the practical one. Reasonable, rational Kat. Some might even say she was coldly efficient—at least, her coworkers would, if not her friends.
And maybe it was a bit cold of her to sneak out of there that last morning. But really, who needed a long drawn-out goodbye that would have just made things awkward? Not her. No, sir. She’d prefer he remember her as the cute, kissable lodge guest who’d made him laugh, not the weirdly weepy, verbally challenged weirdo who didn’t know how to say goodbye.
And she had been weirdly weepy, though she’d chalked that up to PMS. It was practically that time. That was obviously the reason she’d teared up over and over on the plane ride home.
And who wasn’t verbally challenged at the crack of dawn after going for more than twenty-four hours without sleep?
It was decided. She’d made the right decision to not say goodbye.
Caleb leaned forward, intruding on her thoughts. “You haven’t fallen for this guy, have you?”
“Of course not,” she scoffed. “Don’t be idiotic.” She opened her mouth again. For some reason she felt compelled to remind them that Bryce was nice—not the callous flirt they seemed to think he was.
But before she could, Yvette grumbled, “Thank goodness. Our group of friends can’t sustain two hot messes chasing after emotionally unattainable men.”
“Cheers to that,” Caleb said, holding out his drink to clink against hers.
Kat snapped her mouth shut. Yvette was right, not only about their circle of friends needing at least one stable member, but also that Bryce was unattainable, period. Maybe not emotionally, but realistically.
She’d never see him again. And that was that.
She turned her focus to Yvette, who was starting to regale them with the latest tale of the latest jer
k who’d let her down.
Poor Yvette. Yet another loser for the books.
Kat sighed and patted her friend’s arm in sympathy. Thank goodness she was too smart to fall for the wrong guy.
Five
Bryce was just a tad obsessed.
For the first time in his life he found himself staring at a document and unable to read it.
Well, he probably could have read it, but only if his brain ceased replaying scenes from the impossibly perfect twenty-two hours he’d spent with Kat.
He squinted at the screen, but after two seconds his mind wandered again. Squinting was not the answer. And, as he’d already moved his laptop from his office to his bedroom and now out to the main hall, his lack of focus couldn’t be blamed on location.
He could only blame one woman. A woman who’d left without saying goodbye and without giving him her number or even an email address. Sure, he could track her down, but would she want him to?
He might not be an expert on women or on dating, in general, but he was fairly certain sneaking out was not an invitation to pursue.
But he wanted to.
Heck, he wanted to chase after her more than he could remember ever wanting anything. And he was pretty sure that wasn’t just attraction talking, although he definitely found himself replaying those five kisses more often than was necessarily sane.
Five. He grinned just thinking about the pert set of her lips when she’d said it. An arbitrary rule, but he’d understood it. She needed boundaries. Limits. They made her feel safe and in control.
He understood it…but it still drove him nuts even as it made him grin.
Yup. The woman had definitely messed with his head.
Thrusting his hands into his hair, he dropped his head back and stared up at the log ceiling. He grinned at the memory of her attempting to learn chess in the wee hours of the morning when they were delusional with exhaustion and everyone else was sound asleep in their beds. She’d had her head thrown back as she laughed at something he’d said.
He wished he could remember what he’d said.
All he could remember was the sound of her laugh. The way her eyes lit up when she was amused, which seemed to be most of the time. That was one of many Kat traits that went beyond appealing and into admirable, in his eyes.
She’d been a breath of fresh air. When was the last time he’d laughed like that? Certainly not with the last woman he’d dated—the one who’d cheated on him. And definitely not his girlfriend before her. They’d been together for nearly a year and yet he had a difficult time remembering a single occasion when they’d made each other laugh so hard they were kissing through tears of laughter.
But Kat… Kat’s laughter was contagious, just like her energy, her joy, her lust for life. It was impossible not to be affected by it. By her.
Or maybe she just had that effect on him.
Then he remembered why she’d been there in the first place. No, it wasn’t just him. She was charismatic, but also responsible and a good worker, if her bosses were to be believed. It was no wonder she excelled at her job.
Heck, maybe he should have tried to poach her.
That idea made his thoughts turn in another direction entirely, one that had him scowling at the ceiling, his laptop and the work on it totally forgotten as he replayed that last dinner. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to have her to himself for that romantic dinner he’d had planned. Once her coworkers returned from the day trips their leader had organized, she’d had to attend the final obligatory dinner.
Or “an evening of miserable enforced bonding” as she’d called it.
Bryce had gone too. He hadn’t been obligated, obviously, but it had made the senior executives happy and it had given him an excuse to be in her company for a little while longer.
Even if that had meant sitting down the table from her where they couldn’t speak. He could still watch her and eavesdrop on her conversations.
And what he’d heard had made him want to reach down the table and choke someone.
Not her, obviously.
Todd. And the other guy whose name he’d never remembered who’d been sitting across from Todd. And Gary, but mainly because Gary just sat there, apparently oblivious to the fact that Todd was jerk, and that he was doing everything possible to steal credit for Kat’s work.
Not to mention the fact that Todd had come dangerously close to inappropriate touching as he’d thrown an arm along the back of Kat’s chair and leaned in way too close to talk to her.
He didn’t realize he was muttering curses aloud at the mere memory until Darren stepped into the room and cleared his throat. “Are you all right, sir?”
Bryce turned his head, which was still leaning against the back of the leather chair, until he was facing the doorway where Darren hovered. “How many times have I told you, you don’t need to call me sir?”
He thought he saw a flicker of a smile on the younger man’s face. He was only younger by a few years, in his late twenties or early thirties, if Bryce recalled correctly. But despite his relatively young age, his second-in-command acted like an old man.
Not in the “let’s play checkers and wear cardigans” way but in the old-school way. Like he should have been born in the middle of the last century and not at the tail end. He supposed it was for that reason that Darren insisted on following his own protocol in the office. Even when “the office” meant Bryce’s favorite haunt, his lodge in the Rockies. Or his ski chalet in Switzerland, or his penthouse apartment in New York, or his home in the south of France.
Bryce had a lot of homes but he never stayed in one place for long. His business was global and largely conducted via phone and email, so he could theoretically work anywhere, and he supposed that was sort of his problem.
He could go anywhere, which meant he had a lot of options. Too many options. He found himself roving the planet like a nomad in search of a home. A true home, one where he felt he truly belonged.
The lodge was as close as he’d come to finding that feeling and since Darren had family nearby, it seemed to work well for both of them that the lodge was something of a de facto headquarters when he wasn’t needed elsewhere.
But now, alone in the woods with only Darren and the housekeeping staff for company, he was restless to move on to the next stop. Maybe New York.
It couldn’t hurt to stop by the company’s official headquarters. Check in. Shake some hands.
Track down the one who got a way….
His attention was brought back to the present when Darren shifted in the doorway.
“Did you need something, Darren?”
Darren looked uncomfortable. “No, sir, I actually just heard you making what appeared to be a growling noise so I thought I’d check to make sure you were all right in here.”
Huh. Well, that was embarrassing. “Growling?”
“Yes, sir.”
He gave Darren an impatient look at his continued use of the word ‘sir’ but let it go. That was a battle for another day. “I’m fine, but thanks for asking.”
Darren gave a short nod and started to turn to walk away.
“Darren, hang on one second.”
Bryce stared at the empty fireplace as a new idea took hold. A way he could help Kat.
Not that she’d asked for his help. Heck, she didn’t even need his help. She’d held her own during that dinner, walking that fine line between assertive and polite while keeping her terrible boss in his place.
She’d done it with style and panache, better than any diplomat or politician he’d ever met. He got sidetracked for a moment wondering if she’d ever considered getting into politics before Darren politely cleared his throat.
“Darren, could you bring me your findings for the CRBO buyout?”
“Are you thinking of pursuing it?” he asked with all the emotion one would expect from a robot.
Was he? His heart picked up speed and his pulse started to race in a way he knew and loved. It was similar to the
feeling of falling in love, really. It was a force stronger than will and reason. It was a power greater than logic and much more persuasive.
His gut was back in action, baby.
And his gut was telling him that he should buy.
“Yes, Darren. I think I might.”
Darren didn’t so much as blink. Bryce supposed his number two man had been with him too long if Bryce could no longer shock him by sudden fits of billion-dollar fancy.
Where was the fun in this relationship if he couldn’t make Darren flinch in the face of his rash business decisions?
“I’ll be right back with the file,” Darren said.
Bryce watched him leave. Well, at least he hadn’t called him sir.
Progress.
* * *
It was possible Bryce should have just called.
Bryce straightened his tie as he got into the elevator. Man, he hated ties. This was why he preferred to work from home. Ties made him want to act out like he was still a kid at boarding school.
Darren stood beside him quietly. They had one last meeting at CRBO headquarters and then he’d find Kat. He’d already found out what floor she was on and that was his next stop.
“Are you all right, sir?” Darren asked.
“I swear, Darren, I’m going to kick your butt one of these days if you don’t quit it with the ‘sirs’”
“Very good, sir.”
“You’re a little turd, you know that, right?”
He heard a slight choking noise but refused to look. If Darren was laughing at him—and he most definitely was—he might just lose it.
And he never lost it. Ever. That was what made him the businessman he was today. He followed his gut and he never lost his cool.
But right now for the first time in his adult life, he started to doubt his gut. Oh, not the financial end of this decision but…everything else.
While he and Darren had pored through every detail of this buyout and ensured that it was a wise decision for Darren’s brain as well as Bryce’s intestines, he hadn’t allowed himself to think beyond that.
Once Upon a Lumberjack Page 6
