For The Holidays (Gaming The System Book 9)
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I suppose if I’d spoken that opinion aloud, I would have gotten razzed for sounding hokey. Since I still had my persona to maintain, I kept those kinds of thoughts inside my head.
But I definitely would avail myself of this concierge’s services—not those services. But she could definitely help me on my quest to return from this trip with a fiancée instead of a girlfriend.
April had been hinting for a while now what she thought the direction of our relationship should be. And terrified as I was of that particular step, I wanted nothing more than to make her happy. Yep, here I was, Jordan Guy Fawkes, ready, willing, and able to put a ring on it. And I’d do my level best to ignore the internal screaming of the reformed rakehell.
Because it was time to make this woman mine for good.
And I was determined to do it in a way that would be outstanding, unique and unforgettable. A memory that she would savor forever. I wanted her to waggle her fingers under the light, to show off her massive rock. I wanted to hear her recount with a dreamy, almost breathless voice how her husband-to-be had dropped to one knee and slipped it on her finger while violins played our song and birds tweeted her name.
Damn, even the thought made my heart palpitate and sweat form on my brow, in twenty-five degree weather here on the side of the mountain.
Snow bunny concierge and her male assistant led our way into the massive place—a seven-bedroom mansion with industrial kitchen, self-service wet bar, billiard room, gaming room, library, indoor sauna, and jacuzzi. Every bedroom had its own fireplace, TV with fully equipped sound system, balcony, walk-in closets and ensuite bathroom. Adam and Mia had set us up in style, and I was duly impressed.
This vacation would be the perfect moment to pop the question—here, adjacent to the very city where our romance had begun… more or less.
Our room had a lovely view overlooking the valley and the village. Breathtaking. Gorgeous. Stunning. The view? No, my girlfriend’s tight little ass in spandex as she bent over to go through the drawers. Damn, I had to get her into bed, stat, because this little outfit of hers was making me hornier than an Adderall-addicted pubescent teen with a stolen copy of vintage Hustler and a bottle of pre-warmed lotion.
“Look at this! They unpacked for us already. So cool. Everything is so nicely organized, too. So what should we do first? Ski? Hot tub? Sauna? This place has it all.”
I gave her a lusty grin. “Hot sex?”
“We do that all the time.”
“So? We have never done it here. In this room, with that view. Like... imagine being pressed up against that window while we are getting freaky.”
“That window would be negative one hundred degrees Kelvin, and my nips would never take being freeze-dried. So no.”
I didn’t bother correcting her that there was no such thing as negative one hundred degrees Kelvin. I knew that fact, but I’d never state it aloud. That was something that nerds like Adam or even Lucas would do. Not me. No, I’d just play up my obsession with my girl’s perfect ass because... it was, indeed, perfect. As were her boobs, her tiny waist. Those legs...
You get the picture.
But it begged the question… Where the hell was I going to stash this rock where she wouldn’t find it? I scanned the room, searching for any nook or cranny that wouldn’t be obvious. It was pristine in here, all clean lines, modern furniture and décor. Almost as minimalist as the shared areas were cozy.
I’d definitely have to wait until she left the room to make the move, anyway. But right now, she was busy gawking at the superb view out our window. Maybe I could just whip it out and get on my knee now and get the whole thing over with? What a relief that would be—like pulling out a loose tooth or ripping off a band-aid. I guess those weren’t the best visuals to equate asking the woman of my dreams to become my... um... wife.
Fuck, I couldn’t even get it out seamlessly in my thoughts. It might require some practice before actually vocalizing it. Was I really so averse to the idea of marriage, or was this part of the persona that I’d adopted so long ago? I’d been engaged once before—when I was still a child and didn’t know any better. It hadn’t gone well, to the tune of finding my ex-fiancée naked underneath some biker bad boy piece of shit in her dorm room. In flagrante delicto, or whatever that Latin term was for “right in the middle of bumping uglies like wild beasts in rut.” Jesus.
I’d learned, then and there, never ever to surprise a person ever again. Yet here I was, planning to do just that. With a ring she’d never laid eyes on.
A few weeks ago, I’d dragged Adam on a little excursion with me after a meeting in LA. He had not been thrilled about being dragged away from work to be sent on a fool’s errand. And that’s exactly what I was, too. A fucking fool.
But hey, it had been over a year since I’d realized that April was the girl for me, so it was time to get this shit done. Jump over that cliff yelling Banzai! while also screaming like a scared little girl all the way down.
Adam had given me that look before I’d dragged him into the Tiffany’s in Beverly Hills. “I dunno, man. Why don’t you ask her mom? That’s what I did. Kim knew Emilia’s taste way better than I did. What better person to ask?”
I’d rubbed at my chin and sent him a quick glance out of the corner of my eye. “No can do. Her mom is... um... a psycho and they don’t speak.” That’s about all I’d share of that. I mean, I could have called her a “cougar from Hell” but I’d restrained myself.
Fortunately, in the almost two years that we’d been together, Mommie Dearest had not attempted to break the fool-proof perimeter that we’d set up to keep her out—blocked phone number, blocked social media, all mutual acquaintances and relatives notified. She might have found a way if she’d wanted to, but she hadn’t tried.
“Okay,” Adam gestured almost impatiently. “What about your mother, then? Mothers are way better at this shit than I’d be.”
“My mother lives two hundred miles away and besides... I kind of want to present to this to my parents as a done deal. You know...”
He frowned. “I thought the friction was with your dad, and you’re on good terms with your mom?”
I shrugged. “I am. But it’s just better this way. I’d prefer they both find out after the fact. That way, Mom can soften the blow on the old man. Not that he really cares, mind you.”
“Don’t they like April?”
I laughed. “They both absolutely love her, actually. But the old man has been acting like a prick to me for years.”
Adam shook his head and laughed. “Whoever thought you’d have to think strategically about how to announce your engagement to your parents?” Yeah, well, he had no parents to speak of—
that I was aware of—and an uncle who was married to the mother of his wife, so he really hadn’t had to worry about it. I guess there were some advantages to being an orphan, though I’d never say that to Adam, because clearly the disadvantages outweighed the advantages in his life.
I made a dramatic gesture. “I’m just sayin’ this isn’t as easy as marrying a cousin, like you did.”
He rolled his eyes and blew out a breath of disgust. “You want my help or not, asshole? I’m not putting up with the cousin jokes today.”
“Okay, fine. Just let me know when you two are ready to pull up and move to the Ozarks to start rearing your inbred brood.”
Adam immediately pointed to a ring. “Get her a big rock. Women like big rocks.”
“Well, there’s all this shit about cut and carats and clarity and whatnot.”
“Do you have an idea of how much you want to spend? Get her the biggest rock you can possibly get for the price. Size matters when it comes to diamonds.”
“Who are we kidding? Size matters in all cases.”
Adam gave me side-eye. “Now you sound like Heath.”
“Gay guys had all this shit figured out ages ago, man. We hets are knuckle-draggers compared to them.”
Soon as a salesperson got involved, there was all the
confusing talk of carats, clarity, cut. I opted for pear-shaped because the greasy used-car salesperson-type (took one to know one, I’d admit) had said that was one of the best shapes to show off size. This thing was going to cover her finger from knuckle to knuckle and shine like a comet every time she moved. She’d feel like a movie star or a kept woman or...
I guess obsessing over the ring was helping me forget that I was actually going to ask her to become my wife. Forever and ever. And ever. Gulp.
I was ready for this, right? Ready to be a.... um... a husband?
Well, here went nothing. I just had to figure out the exact, beautiful moment to do it. And until then, I’d guard the ring like a convict trying to smuggle a bag of Oxy into prison.
Huh, why was that the first analogy to pop into my head? Curious.
Who could hold on to the ring for me in the meantime? Adam was a definite possibility, but he was still extra cranky about being dragged into the store to buy the damn thing in the first place. In addition, there was the added risk of Mia discovering it and letting slip to April that she’d seen it. No bueno.
William? He was, after all, deeply responsible. I could trust him to get the job done, especially if I framed it as a quest to guard the princess’s jewels or some such. The problem was that the guy was shit at lying, and if discovered on his person, he’d blurt out everything.
Lucas? Maybe… but again, what cover story could he possibly use if Katya found him holding onto a big fat diamond ring when he was already married?
No, the best bet was to carry it on me and hope she kept her hands off my sexy, irresistible bod before I could stash it somewhere in the room. Which meant soon. When the hell was she going to use the bathroom, so I could do this?
Damn. I was already losing it, and I hadn’t even planned out how to pop the question yet.
I wasn’t made for this shit.
Chapter 4
April
My Beast was acting so weird, like… crazy nervous. He’d been on edge for the past few weeks, as a matter of fact, but I’d been so pre-occupied with my thesis for my MBA that I hadn’t yet had the time to dig into it.
I frowned, catching glimpses of him as the concierge showed us around our mansion home for the next week. Usually when I approached him too directly, Jordan got skittish and clammed up. But since we’d have this time together this week, I hoped to get to the bottom of it using my subtle arts of Beast-taming. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too serious or permanent…
Maybe something was going on at work that I didn’t know about?
Jordan had confided in me not long ago. He suspected Adam might be preparing to move on from being CEO of Draco. I couldn’t even imagine it, since this company was Adam’s baby. But he did have a lot of other interests—including his work with that XVenture company that was sending their own astronauts into space. Adam had been working so hard on those projects that a lot of the CEO duties for Draco were now falling on Jordan’s desk.
It was no mystery to me what Jordan wanted, provided it was true that Adam would soon be moving on. Jordan wanted that CEO job, and I’d be more than thrilled to see him get it.
Maybe that was the reason he was so jumpy? It was possible Adam had confided in him and he hadn’t had a chance to fill me in, or he was waiting for a time to break it to me. I couldn’t imagine Jordan keeping that secret from me for very long. I’d weasel it out of him somehow.
Brushing my hands together as if dusting them off some hard work, I said, “Well, since I don’t have to unpack and we aren’t doing anything organized until lunch, I think I’ll wander out and explore the place, maybe see how the girls are doing. Someone’s gotta make sure they didn’t get better rooms than we did.”
Jordan laughed that fake laugh he only used when trying to blow off a business contact or annoying person. Hmm. What was that? I frowned and left the bedroom.
Mia was out in the main lounge, the large couches almost swallowing up her form. This mansion was breathtaking, with cathedral ceilings reaching up two stories to provide for massive walls of glass overlooking the slopes and the snow-covered valley below. The mountains dominated the horizon, softened by clumps of forest bordering the ski track. I was a decent skier and Jordan adored snowboarding. He was a natural on the snowboard, actually, having grown up on a surfboard. We were both excited to get up on the mountain tomorrow.
“This place is amazing,” I breathed as I plopped down opposite Mia. She looked up from her tablet, almost bleary eyed and oblivious to the opulence around her. In fact, she seemed barely aware of my presence until I’d spoken to her.
“Huh? Oh yeah. Did you see there’s an indoor pool and jacuzzi? And even an infrared sauna on the bottom floor. I’ve been dying to try one of those.”
“Oh my gawd, a sauna? That sounds like heaven. Saunas are great for the skin.” I patted my cheeks. “I could use a little revitalizing.”
Mia’s brow crinkled. “You’re stunning and have the most amazing glowing skin I’ve ever seen. What are you even talking about right now?”
I shrugged, warmed by the compliment. You had to love Mia. She had no affectation whatsoever, despite her own gorgeous looks. She and Adam turned heads when they were together, effortlessly emanating power-couple vibes in waves. I’d spied people gawking at them like they were celebrities.
“You know,” I said as I adjusted myself on the couch, stretching my legs out along it and swiveling sideways. “I’m probably the only person on this entire trip who’s not going to berate you for bringing your schoolwork with you, since I brought mine, too.”
Mia gave me a guilty look, and then scanned the huge room. “I feel like a hypocrite. Please don’t rat me out. I made Adam lock up his phone.”
“I’d never tattle. Your secret’s safe with me.”
The doorbell rang then.
I arched a brow. “You mean this place doesn’t come with a butler to answer the door for us?” With a smile, Mia sighed and set her tablet down, but I popped up faster and motioned for her to stay put.
“I’ll get it. Probably the concierge.”
But it wasn’t.
The dude on the other side of the door projected anything but at-your-service vibes. My eyes slid up from the Christian Dior après-ski boots to the M. Miller base layers and bespoke Montcler coat, all wrapped around one very impressive male form. The tall, dark, and delightfully wealthy man standing on the front porch was drop-dead gorgeous to boot. Dark, curling hair, check. Mysterious gray eyes, check and wow.
Okay, so I was spoken for. Happily so. But this girl wasn’t dead, either, and you’d have to be dead not to notice this guy. I blinked. “Uh, um. May I help you?” I squeaked.
His handsome face split into a lazy grin. Whoa. He exuded confidence, wealth and some sort of je ne sais quoi. Elegance? I half expected a European accent to come out of that sexy mouth of his.
But alas, when he spoke, he sounded perfectly, normally, American. “I was just dropping in to say hello to my friend Adam Drake. Is he in by any chance?”
“Uhhh.” I turned from the doorway to glance toward the couch, but Mia was no longer there. Nope, she’d zipped up beside me, quick as a flash, her cheeks flushed pink.
“He had to step out for a few minutes,” Mia said. “He doesn’t have his phone with him, or I’d text, but can I help you? Please, come in. I’m Mrs. Drake.”
His dark brows raised, and he leaned forward to shake her hand. “So good to meet you, finally. My name’s Dominic. Adam and I once worked together and when I heard he was here, I had to drop by and grab a chance to catch up. I’d love to invite you for dinner one of the nights you’re in town. Speak to him and let me know what fits best with your schedule.” Then he reached into his très expensive jacket and pulled out a card to hand to her.
I frowned. This guy looked familiar, and not just in a “man of a girl’s dreams” sort of way. Damn. There was a sure bet I was Googling this dude the second I got his full name off Mia’s card.
> Mia seemed perplexed as he turned away without another word. A veritable mystery man. She glanced down at the card, then again at his receding back. Once the door was shut, I begged her to see the card.
It had no business logo on it. Plain but thick, cream-colored linen paper with a name, email and phone number.
“Dominic Fischer….” Mia read, then shook her head. “How come I’ve never heard Adam talk about him?”
“Adam probably knows tons of billionaires.”
Her brow arched. “You think he’s—”
“From the looks of how he was decked out? Yes. Or close.” My fingers were already flying over my phone screen, typing the name into Google. Dom Fischer… even the name was giving me Don Draper vibes.
Damn, how would he look in an Armani suit?
Mia stuffed the card in her pocket. “I better stash that tablet before Adam gets back. But I can always distract him with this card and his long-lost mystery friend.”
“And you can pump him for info, too. I’m intrigued.”
She grinned. “I’ll get the tea and spill it all for you, how’s that?”
“Damn, aren’t we a couple of gossips?”
Mia laughed. “Yeah, real housewives of Orange County, huh?”
“That would be funnier if I was actually a wife or if either of us hung out at our houses much.” As I finished speaking, I caught a sudden movement in the kitchen and tilted my head, thinking it might be Adam come in through the side door. He could get us the juicy deets…
But no, it was Jordan standing in front of the fridge, his delicious butt begging to be squeezed in those tight jeans. I sighed. Yeah, I could look at another guy and appreciate hotness, but nothing compared to the hotness I already had.
Jordan turned and stared at me, probably alarmed when I’d said I wasn’t a wife. How fun. I’d punked him without even realizing I was doing it. I’d gotten so good at teasing him about the whole marriage thing that I was now doing it subconsciously.