“I’ve never done that before,” he comments before his mouth crashes into mine.
“I love when you fuck me, but this was intense,” I say against his lips.
“You and that dirty mouth.” He takes me lower lip between his teeth, tugging. I moan and my hips rock, my body tensing.
“I need a break,” I say.
“How about we get some sleep after we clean up?” Eli suggests.
I yawn and nod. “That sounds amazing.” My eyes feel heavy.
Averly
“Argh,” I turn on the bed, covering my head with the pillow. “Turn that thing off,” I complain.
A soft snicker sounds in my bedroom, and I lift the pillow to peek over my shoulder. The Kenny Chesney-playing alarm clock has been going off for thirty minutes, interrupting my sleep and my dream about dating Sam Hunt. All so I can listen to “Keg In A Closet” as a wake-up call.
I squeeze my eyes shut to try to continue the dream when a hand squeezes my upper-thigh, right below my ass. “Hmmm…” I squirm.
Eli’s chuckle grows louder, and I flip to face him.
“Did you turn it off?” I clear away the hoarseness in my voice.
“Yes,” he whispers, leaning in for a kiss.
I cover my mouth and shake my head. “Morning breath,” I mumble against my palm. Eli shakes his head, kissing my hand as it covers my mouth and gets out of bed.
“What time is it?” I look around for my phone, but I’m pretty sure I left my purse, along with the clothes I was wearing, out in the living room when Eli stripped me last night. Seems like a pattern—undressing me before making it to a room.
“It’s six. Go back to sleep. I need to go home and get ready for work.”
“Uh-huh…” I murmur, closing my eyes.
“I’ll see you later?” the question in his voice makes me open one eye and look at him.
“Yeah, I’ll go by after my meeting with Ainsley.” I could use coffee right now, but it’s six in the freaking morning, and Cup-O-Joe won’t open for another two hours.
More sleep sounds good. I begin to drift, the quiet sounds of Eli grabbing his things and dressing add to my slumber. Somewhere between kissing Sam Hunt and reality, I feel warmth on my forehead.
My body sinks into the mattress, and I sleep again.
I jolt on the bed and my eyes fling open. My heart thumps in my chest, and my breathing is labored. I had a dream I was falling, and it felt like I was going to fall straight through the bed.
What time is it? I check my bedside table, but my phone isn’t there. Feeling disoriented, I stand and look for it. I stumble out of my room.
“Damn.” My hand flies to the wall as I kick the tights that tangled in my feet out of the way.
Okay, think, Averly. Eli was here, his alarm clock blaring. He stayed over? Yeah, yeah, we had a date last night, and I invited him in. After the fantastic sex, we fell asleep.
Ainsley! Crap, I have a meeting with her. I search for my phone like a maniac, dumping everything in my purse on the kitchen counter.
Eight-fifteen. My eyes widen. I’m supposed to meet Ainsley in fifteen minutes.
I type out a quick message, letting her know I’m running ten minutes late and race to the shower.
I’ve never been late for a meeting in my life. I can’t believe I overslept. I should’ve woken up when Eli did, made coffee at home, had breakfast, and prepared what I want to talk to Ainsley about. Anything that would have kept me awake and punctual.
Now, I’ll have to get dressed in a hurry, put my hair in a bun, and speed to Cup-O-Joe where my meeting is. Thankfully, we chose a place that serves coffee.
***
“I am so sorry.” My steps are hurried as I reach the table Ainsley is sitting at. “I can’t believe I’m late, this is unusual for me.”
I drop on the chair, placing my messenger bag on the table.
“Hey, it’s totally okay. I hadn’t left yet when you sent me the message, so I just got here.”
I sigh, and my shoulders sag. “I was mortified that you’d be waiting for me here.” I feel like I’m late for my first day at work.
“It’s totally cool, I promise,” Ainsley smiles.
“Thanks, do you want a coffee? My treat.”
“You don’t have to. I was just waiting for you to order.” Ainsley shakes her head, reaching for her purse.
“I insist.” I stop her.
“Okay, but next time I’ll treat.” She tells me what she wants, and I head to the counter, ordering two lattes and two blueberry muffins. I figured something to eat would be helpful.
“Thanks,” Ainsley says as I hand her a muffin before returning for our coffee orders.
When I return to our table, Ainsley gets straight to business, asking me about The Farm House. “I know what you’ve told me about the bed and breakfast, and I also checked your website but noticed it’s under construction.”
“Yeah, I have a landing page with basic information—my phone number, opening date, and a short summary about the place. I’m still working on the website. I’ve been doing it myself, so it’s taken some trial and error,” I explain.
“Can I take a look?”
“Uh, yeah.” I turn on my laptop, logging into my website host.
I move from sitting across from Ainsley to the chair next to her, so we can work side by side. Hopefully, she has some tech knowledge that can help me.
Ainsley tells me about search engine optimization, keywords, Google AdWords, and more marketing lingo that takes me a moment to process.
“You want to be searchable on the internet. When people search for bed and breakfast in Wyoming, or country bed and breakfast, or weekend getaway in the mountains, you want to make sure you’re one of the top searches.”
“How do I do that?” My eyes widen, overwhelmed. I feel inadequate taking on such a big project. Maybe I should’ve partnered with someone, hired a bigger team. Sure, I worked as the manager in Oaks Resort for years, but a resort of that size has teams to handle marketing. Suddenly, I feel as if all the experience I thought I had is minute compared to all I still have to learn.
“We’ll work on it little by little. Blogging is a great way to stay on top. I also have some other ideas to get the word out. It’d be great to pitch travel influencers and invite them to come to stay a weekend once you’re open. It’d be free of charge, but they’d take photos, videos even, and share them with their followers. A review of the place, but some will also post throughout their stay, showing everything they love about The Farm House.”
I nod. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“We’ll draft a pitch, personalized to each one, and be clear about our terms upfront. Influencers are used to this type of agreement, but I always like to write it out, so there are no miscommunications or room for misinterpretation.” Ainsley jots notes on her notebook.
“Do you have social media accounts already?” She looks up from her scribbling.
“Yeah,” I nod. “I’ve been posting photos of the progress, keeping followers updated, building the hype. I’ve also taken pictures of the outdoors area. I’ve only owned the property during fall and winter so far, so I’ve shared the wonderful activities people can enjoy in the area.”
“Awesome,” Ainsley comments, writing down more notes. My eyes widen as I see her fill a page. Am I that behind?
“Anyway,” I eye her paper before looking back up. “My main concern is that Oaks Resort is nearby, so I want to show people the charm of staying in a smaller place. They can still ski if they want to visit the resort for the day.”
“I agree. I believe resort and bed and breakfast audiences are two different targets. Some people love the feel of a big hotel where everything is within reach on location. Others love exploring the area. They want to learn about the town or city they’re staying in.”
I sigh, folding my hands on the table. That helps reassure me. I’ve been worried that people would choose the resort over The Farm House,
but Ainsley is right. Different people want different experiences.
After giving me some tasks to complete before our next meeting, Ainsley and I walk out of Cup-O-Joe.
“Thank you so much, Ainsley.” I breathe out. She has no idea how helpful today has been. “You’ll invoice me?”
She waves her hand toward me. “Don’t worry about that.”
“Ainsley,” I warn. I refuse to get special treatment because I know her. “I’ll hire someone else.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “No, you won’t. I’ll invoice you,” she nods. “We’ll do installments, does that work?”
“Oh, yeah,” I nod. “That’d be great, actually.”
“Awesome. We’ll talk later this week. Remember, make that list of your ideal audience.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I call out with a salute. She giggles and waves.
I hop in my car and drive toward The Farm House, nervous about seeing Eli at work after everything that’s transpired between us this past weekend. A smile forms on my lips of its own accord as I think about him this morning.
Pulling into the driveway, I take a deep breath before stepping out of the car.
“Hey,” Tim shouts over the noise of the sander when I walk in.
“Hi.” I look around the entrance. Finally, more walls are starting to appear, creating divisions in the layout. The check-in counter will be seen right when people enter, and a small waiting area will be off to the left with a small couch and a couple of chairs.
I move further in, heading straight to the kitchen to see what the situation is there now that the ceiling is fixed. I look up and see the hole is completely patched, and the ceiling is painted white, with no evidence of the disaster left behind.
I smile, grateful it was fixed quickly, and won’t set back my opening date. Then, I eye the metal column where the beam was and sigh. I’m going to have to trust that they’ll keep my vision for the kitchen while finding a solution that includes the beam.
“Hey.”
I turn around to find Eli standing by the entrance. I was so caught up in my inspection, I didn’t hear him approaching.
“Hi. It looks good,” I say.
“A compliment from Averly Cooper? I must be doing somethin’ right.” Eli gives me that crooked grin that screams trouble and walks toward me. When he lowers his head to kiss me, I tense and lean my head back.
His eyebrows furrow as his eyes search mine. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I shake my head. “I just rather not do that here with the guys walking around. I don’t want them to get the wrong impression or for them to tease you.”
“Averly,” Eli sighs. “They know better than to get involved in my personal life.”
“I hired you to do a job, and I don’t want them to think that you’re suddenly going to treat me differently because we’re sleeping together,” I explain.
“We’re doing a lot more than sleeping together, but I can respect that.” He nods, brushing a loose strand away from my face.
“Thanks,” I whisper, gently squeezing his fingers.
He looks over at me and winks. “Want to see the guest house?”
“Is this a rouse to get me alone?” I tease, the corner of my lips moving up.
“Dirty girl. No, I want to show you what we’ve done. We’ve actually accomplished a lot these last couple of days. But if we find ourselves alone with the door locked and you want to…” his eyebrows dance on his forehead. “Don’t feel shy.”
I shake my head, and Eli chuckles. “Only kidding. Come on.”
We walk through the back patio toward the guest house, and my eyes pop open when I see everything they’ve done. The kitchen is completely gone, the holes are patched, and the carpet is completely ripped out of the house.
“Wow,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” Eli nods, his hands in his pockets.
“When did you do all this?”
“I tore out the kitchen and bathroom on Friday after you left. The guys removed the carpet and patched up the walls on Saturday, and they’ve been working nonstop today.”
“It’s only noon,” I comment.
“I know. You wanted this to be a priority, so we made it one.”
I turn to look at Eli, tilting my head. He really listened to me.
“A cleaning crew is coming tomorrow morning to clean up all the dust so we can paint later this week. It helps that it’s a small house. I’ve got the plans and designs from Anne for the interior design, but I noticed you kept a bathtub in the bathroom.” He looks at me with furrowed brows as if he can’t comprehend the idea of a bathtub.
“Yeah…” I say slowly.
“Here’s the thing, a shower is a better investment. It’s easier to get in and out of, no matter the age, and easier to clean. A tub can be dangerous,” he speaks as we walk into the bathroom, also completely demolished.
“Eli, I’m getting a tub.” I leave no room for discussion, but he ignores the warning.
“If you eventually want to use this guest house as an additional rental, then older couples would have a hard time with a tub.”
“This will be my home for the foreseeable future. I want to have everything I love, and a bathtub is one of those things. When I’m stressed, one of the few things that help me relax is getting in the tub with my lavender oil and a book. I refuse to let you take that away from me,” I point my finger at him.
Eli bites down a smile, and my nostrils flare. He’s such a pain. “I still think it’s unwise, but whatever you want,” he shrugs.
“You’re impossible.”
“A tub could work in my favor, actually.” A mischievous gleam fills his eyes.
“You wouldn’t fit,” I shrug.
“We’ll have to test it out.” He steps closer, his breath fanning across my cheek.
“You better install a tub,” I demand.
“Yes, ma’am,” he nods once, amusement dancing in those hazel eyes.
I shake my head and walk out of the bathroom.
“Averly,” he calls out.
I turn around to look at him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“You’re cute,” Eli winks. I roll my eyes, but my smile gives me away. A warm sensation fills me as I look at Eli.
He walks past me, his fingers brushing mine in a secret caress, and I shiver.
“You love to rile me up, don’t you?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Of course,” he winks. “I’ll call you later.”
“Where are you going?” I ask as he opens the door.
“Lunch break.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, you want me to act like we have every other day, right?” I nod. “So, I’m going to lunch, if you have a problem with it, too bad,” he winks, playing the part.
I walk up to him, my hands on my hips as the cold air from outside trespasses the house.
Eli’s voice drops to a whisper. “You want to have lunch with me?”
A slow smile creeps on my lips. “I thought you’d never ask.” I sneak in a quick kiss, seeing as we’re alone and then step around him, walking back into the main house.
I hear Eli murmur something that sounds like, “This woman,” but I keep walking ahead of him, a proud smile on my face.
Eli
Ever since Saturday night’s bachelor party, I’ve made a point to see or talk to Averly every day. It helps that she comes by the bed and breakfast to check up on things and do some work. She wants to keep things strictly professional around the guys, and I understand her concerns. After all the arguments we’ve gotten into, it’s probably best to keep our personal life out of the renovations.
That doesn’t mean we can’t sneak in lunch dates, or that I won’t see her in the evenings. I plan to continue getting to know her and finding what else sets her off. Spending time with Averly is fun. When she relaxes, she’s an amazing woman. Although, she wouldn’t be herself without her strong-willed personality, smarts, and drive. I like both sides o
f her. Not to mention our chemistry inside the bedroom.
I finish cleaning up the kitchen after I eat dinner and head out to the barn to feed Dash while I wait for Averly to get here, so we can watch a movie.
“Hey, boy,” I call when I see Dash peek his head out of the stall. I open the door and run my hand down his side, his straw-colored coat full of hay.
“Were you scratching yourself on the ground?” I pat him twice before grabbing the warming blanket and laying it on him, securing it around his body. The temperature is dropping, and I want to make sure he stays warm throughout the night.
I lead Dash out of his stall and to the pen outside of the barn, so he can run around a bit while I clean out his stable and get his food ready.
Having Dash and this barn is purely for hobby. The cowboy lifestyle runs in our veins here in Everton, no matter what career choice we make. It’s embedded in us, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. There’s nothing healthier than spending time with horses. The amount of peace Dash has offered through the years when times have been tough is priceless.
I turn on the radio to the local country music station and start cleaning the stall. I add more shavings to it and some hay for Dash before filling his bucket with water.
“I took you for more of a Tyler Hunt fan, not so much Dolly Parton.”
I look up and find Averly leaning against the frame of the stable, her hands tucked into her front pockets, and a leg crossed over the other, cowboy boots peeking under her flared jeans.
I smile as my eyes roam up her body, a heavy coat covering her body, her hair braided over her shoulder, and big, brown eyes staring at me.
“Everyone loves Dolly,” I respond, leaning the rake against the wall and walking to her. I tuck a loose strand of hair that fell from her braid behind her ear and lean down to kiss her.
“That’s a mighty hello,” Averly teases, her hands moving around my neck.
“Happy to see you,” I wink.
“I can tell,” she rubs against me, and my half-mast dick hardens more. Groaning, I slap her ass before taking a step back.
Make You Mine Page 11
