“Chuck, get down here or I’m drinking all this beer alone.” Luke stood at the bottom of the stairs, and I quickly washed my hands in the bathroom sink, giving the piping one final test before I headed downstairs.
“We have success!” I bounded down the stairs two at a time and snagged one of the longnecks from the package on the counter before hopping up on a barstool at the island. “When’s food getting here?”
“Should be here any minute.” Luke popped open the bottle in his hand and then passed me the opener. “God, your brother makes good beer. Is this apricot?”
“I don’t know, man. I just pick up a sixer of every new kind he puts out. And then stock up on my favorites.” I popped my own bottle open and took a swig. “There’s definitely a fruity aftertaste though.”
We sat in comfortable quiet for a few minutes, waiting for the pizza to arrive.
I took the time to look over the main floor, with its open floor plan that allowed the kitchen, living room, and dining area to all blend into one space. Each piece of furniture in the building was chosen specifically for this chalet, and I prided myself in the fact that it all seemed to flow well from one space to the next.
“We did good in here, didn’t we?”
Luke looked up from his laptop. “Dude, this is all you. I’m the numbers guy. I wouldn’t have managed half the stuff you did here. You’ve always been good at just figuring things out. Plenty of people in the real estate game would’ve written this place off, but now it’s probably going to be our best earner. That’s you, not me.”
I scanned the place again, a smile spreading over my face. “She really does look good.” I hoped my father would be able to see the hard work I’d poured into this place.
“You know, if you talked about a woman like you talk about this property, maybe you’d keep one for more than a weekend.” Luke flicked his bottle cap at me and closed his laptop. “Why don’t we go out tonight? Get a few drinks, maybe pick up a couple of ladies?”
A knock on the door drew our attention and Luke bounded over to pull it open.
I could tell from where I sat that the pizza was here.
When Luke got back and we both were both eating over the box, I responded to his question. “I gotta shower before I go out anywhere. Even Zane wouldn’t serve me smelling like this, and he’s my brother.”
“That’s cool. Meet at The Oak Barrel around seven? Does that give you enough time to get all pretty?” He playfully batted his eyelashes at me.
“We both know I’m way too pretty for you, jackass.” I grabbed another beer and popped it open, flicking the cap at Luke.
We ate quickly, shoveling most of the supreme pizza into our mouths before Luke took off to get ready for the night.
I cleaned up the chalet, and then hauled the garbage and my tools home with me.
I had more than enough time to get presentable for the evening, so I grabbed the last of the sixer and headed for the shower.
The Oak Barrel was usually busy, but Zane always kept a big circular booth reserved, as the sign proudly hanging over it said, “For the owner’s family or God himself.”
Zane stuck to that sign too, kicking out anyone who dared to sit on Wright family turf without the appropriate holy credentials.
Of course, there were plenty of tourists who probably thought the sign was a joke, or that it was used by friends more than family, since Zane and I had as much familial resemblance as Idris Elba and Chris Evans.
I slid into the booth just before seven, scanning the crowd for anyone worth buying a drink for. For me, this included any family, friends, or single women who might be willing to go back to my place for the night. Luke was right, I didn’t spend a lot of time with the same woman. I didn’t really find anyone interesting enough to have them stick around. Plus, we lived in a vacation town; there weren’t a lot of permanent women just lying around. I was too young to settle down anyway. Too busy trying to prove to my father I wasn’t a complete screwup.
Luke walked in a few minutes later.
I waved him over. “Aw, you put on a clean shirt just for me?”
“Sure did. I’m hoping if I strike out tonight, I can always take you home.” He nudged me and then slid into the booth. “Zane stop by yet?”
“Why? Hoping to scam some free beer off my connections?”
“Oh please. Zane loves me more than he loves you.”
As if to prove my point, two full pint glasses appeared in front of us, Sheila smiling flirtatiously as she set them down. “Hey, Chuck. Looking good.”
I reached for the beer. “Hey, Sheila. Your husband know you flirt with me every time I’m in here?”
“Honey, he was the one who told me not to wear my ring in here. Better tips that way. I’ll send Zane by when he gets a free minute. He’s behind the bar tonight. Will walked out. Couldn’t handle the pressure.”
I sighed. I told Zane the kid looked more like a frightened deer than a bartender, but Zane couldn’t say no to his eager face. Unfortunately, while The Oak Barrel mostly specialized in Zane’s own brews, they did plenty of other business, and he needed a bartender who could keep up with the Aspen clientele’s exacting standards. “I’ll swing by the bar later if he’s too busy.”
“I’ll let him know, hon. Luke, always good to see you.”
He nodded at her, but he was already scoping out the crowd.
Sheila walked off, her hips swishing and drawing every man’s eyes to her ass as she moved through the room.
“Man, if Sheila wasn’t married, I’d tap that in an instant.” Luke practically groaned.
“You make a point to say so every time we’re here. I’m sure if she’s interested, she’ll let you know.” I picked up my beer and took a swig, then joined Luke in looking around. “See anyone you actually have a shot with?”
“The night is young, Chuck, and so are we. I’m still weighing my options.”
I rolled my eyes and sunk back into the booth. It was still early, but nothing caught my eye. Unless someone truly exceptional walked in, I doubted I’d leave with anyone except maybe Luke. I’d grown bored with all of it lately. Picking up women just didn’t seem like a sport anymore. But a relationship felt like too much work. So, what then? Celibacy, I suppose, was always an option.
But not one I liked very much.
Halfway into my second beer, a couple of tall, gangly model types walked over. “O. M. G. Chuck Wright, is that you?”
Teetering on her sky-high heels, she looked like a drunken baby giraffe trying to be sexy, and it took a second for me to recognize the skinny kid who used to run around with my sister, Liling. This bleach-blonde, too-thin woman was almost a shadow of the lanky kid I’d known growing up. I didn’t get up to greet her. “Vanessa Howard, right? How you been?”
“Good. God, it’s been what, five years? I’m a model now, you know.” She grinned like it was an accomplishment and slid into our booth uninvited. “We should totally hang out sometime.”
Her friend slipped into the booth next to Luke.
I glanced at Luke, trying to figure out if there was a way out of this situation, but he seemed completely content to have the waif leaning close and batting her fake eyelashes at him.
“You’re a model, you said? You ever work with Liling?” I had no interest in getting into a conversation about hanging out with her. Vanessa had tagged along anytime Liling and I did anything growing up, and I swear she had some sort of hero-worship crush on me then. Now, it seemed she’d grown up, but I wasn’t so sure she’d outgrown her crush.
“Not as much as I’d like. She’s not—” Vanessa let out a breathy sigh. “On my level.”
I bit back the urge to tell her my sister had more class and talent in her pinky than she ever would. “I think I’m going to go get another drink at the bar.”
She put her hands on my arm, holding me in place. “A server will come by. Stay, talk. Or we could go back to your place. Hang out somewhere more quiet.” She bit her lip in a way
I was sure most men thought was coy.
I downed my beer and nudged her until she had no choice but scoot out of the booth or fall on her ass, and I glanced at Luke. “Another?”
He waved me off, his focus on the model at his side. “Yeah, man, whatever.”
I rolled my eyes and skirted the crowd to sidle up to the bar. As soon as I got close enough I knew he would hear me, I whistled loudly at the big black man tending bar. “Oh, baby, shake it over here for me!”
Zane rolled his eyes and walked over, drying a pint glass with a dishcloth. “Don’t make me kick you out of the bar, bro. Or cut you off.”
“Oh, come on, baby. You know you like it when I flirt with you.” I leaned on the bar and pressed my arms together, like I was a girl trying to amplify my cleavage.
Zane threw his towel at me and rolled his eyes before sweeping his hand toward me. “My brother, ladies and gentlemen.”
I mimed a curtsy and then leaned on the bar again. “Can I get two more? And take your time.”
“Not buying a round for the ladies at the table? Did Pops teach you nothing? He would be ashamed.”
“He’d be ashamed if I did buy them a round. Trust me, they are not the kind of women he’d want me fraternizing with.” I glanced over at where Luke had his tongue down the other woman’s throat, and Vanessa did a weird finger wave at me. “But you’re right, I shouldn’t go back without something for them. Give me your heaviest calorie drinks.”
“You’re a bad man, Chuck.” He poured a couple beers and then quickly mixed up some pink drink before pouring it into two martini glasses. “Want a tray?”
“No, I want to balance one on my head.” I rolled my eyes at him and reached over the bar to snag a tray from the rack. “I’ll bring it back.”
“Just leave it on the edge of the table. I’ll get Sheila to snag it. Wouldn’t want you away from your double date too long.” He grinned and took the towel back from me. “Should I tell Mom to start planning the wedding?”
“Only if I get to be the bride.” I smirked and piled the drinks onto the tray, weaving my way back to the table easily.
“Oh, Cosmos! You’re the best, Chuck.” Vanessa smiled and reached greedily at the pink martini drinks.
“You have to share with your friend over there. If she can stop trying to eat my buddy’s face for five minutes.”
“Or we could show them how it’s done.” Vanessa grabbed at my sleeve, trying to pull me into the booth again before I’d even disbursed the drinks, and I almost splashed beer all over the table.
I bit back a snarl and put the tray on the edge of the table to set the rest of the drinks down. “I’m really not interested, Vanessa.”
She recoiled slightly, then grabbed her purse and coughed in her friend’s direction. “Candi, I need to go to the ladies’ room.”
Like she was following a command, Candi broke free from Luke’s embrace and stood. “Okay. I’m ready.”
I waited until they left before sitting on the edge of the booth and taking a long swig of my beer.
Luke stared at me with wide eyes. “Dude, what’s wrong with you?”
“Excuse me?” I raised an eyebrow at Luke, confused.
“You have a gorgeous woman practically offering to give you a lap dance right here, and you’re not interested?” He grabbed the second beer I brought over and downed half of it in one chug.
I sighed. “You don’t know Vanessa like I do. She’s not even remotely my type.”
“Dude, she’s hot. She’s a model. What’s not your type about that?”
“I happen to like women with some curve. If I wanted to sleep with a twelve-year-old boy’s body, I’d seek therapy. Not to mention the fact that she’s made it known on more than one occasion that her greatest hope is to land a Wright. It’s not going to be me.”
Luke scowled. “Dude, you’re going to turn down an easy lay because she wants to marry a Wright?”
“Among other reasons, yeah.” I finished my beer and stood. “Enjoy your night. I hope Candi’s as sweet as her name claims. I’m going home. I’ll do one more pass through the chalet tomorrow before I hit the slopes. Don’t want anything else crapping out on Mr. and Mrs. Yuppy.”
“Enjoy spending the night with your hand,” he called out, loud enough for a couple of nearby tables to turn and look at us not so discreetly.
“Just make sure you wrap it. There’s no telling where those models have been.”
I settled the tab with Zane, leaving the rest up to Luke. I waved at my brother as I made my way to the front door.
Driving home, I ran through a mental checklist of things to go over tomorrow at the chalet before the couple checked in, knowing I’d only have a narrow window to fix anything if something else went wrong.
4
Aubrey
I pulled up to the chalet at just past two in the afternoon, local Aspen time, and parked my rented Subaru in the driveway. Looking up at the cabin I’d been dreaming about for weeks, more so even than my wedding, I couldn’t help but think that the pictures online didn’t do the structure justice. Even through a dusting of fresh snow and icicles hanging off the gutters, I could tell the house had good bones. I could hardly wait to get inside and look around.
The only thing that kept me sitting in the car a few minutes longer than I should’ve stayed was the fact that I hadn’t had time to call the rental group and let them know there was a change in plans. Mr. and Mrs. Simmons wouldn’t be checking in, just Aubrey Jones.
It had been awkward enough when I’d gotten the rental car, and they questioned why I was the only driver when the reservation was made for two. But now, knowing I’d be staying in this chalet all week, the last thing I needed was their sympathy or judgment. I just wanted to get unpacked and tour the charming town a little before I picked up my rental skis and headed up the mountain for my first lesson in the sport.
Greg was an avid skier, but he’d never taken me. He always claimed I’d just slow him down, and it wouldn’t be as much fun for either of us. But I’d hoped since it was supposed to be our honeymoon, he’d want to be with me more than he wanted to be flying down the slopes. Now, I wondered if his skiing trips were just excuses to find easy women for a night or two.
Sighing, I unloaded my suitcase and carry-on from the hatch of the Subaru. The path to the front door was well shoveled, and there was an adorable welcome mat on the stoop.
Tentatively, I knocked. My reservation promised one of the owners would be waiting to give me keys and a tour.
The door swung open. “You must be Mrs. Simmons. I take it Mr. Simmons is getting the rest of the bags?” The handsome man standing in the doorway took up most of the frame, and, even though he looked to be about mid-twenties, clearly came from the wealth and prosperity that flourished in Aspen.
He raised an expectant brow.
Answer the man, Aubrey.
“Actually, I’m still Ms. Jones. You can call me Aubrey.” I ignored his question about Greg and lifted my suitcase again. “If it’s all the same to you, I really don’t want to explain to a stranger why I’m alone on my honeymoon.”
“Um, sure, not a problem.”
He was still standing there, gawking at me. Was it really so shocking for a woman to come to a romantic chalet in the middle of romantic Colorado by herself? “Are you going to give me the tour?”
He shook himself and refocused. “Yes, of course, Ms. Jones. Please, come in. I’m Luke Branson.” He reached out and took the heavy suitcase. “I assume you’ll be wanting to stay in the master bedroom?”
I nodded and stepped into the house for the first time. The walls were painted a warm, honey color, and all the furniture I could see spoke of rustic elegance. I pulled my boots off at the front door, not wanting to track any ice-melt residue or snow onto the hardwood floors, and followed Luke through the main living area into a huge master bedroom.
The space was dominated by a California king-sized bed, dressed in a deep navy comforter and va
rious blue pillows. “No TV?”
“Some of our properties have TVs for the guests to use, but my business partner thought one of the draws for the chalet might be the fact that there isn’t one. There is Wi-Fi, which you’ll find passwords for in the welcome packet on the island. We hoped to create a peaceful oasis away from the hustle of the outside world.” Luke set my suitcase down on a stand I hadn’t seen as I walked in, and then gestured at a door on the other side of the room. “Through there is the master bathroom, complete with a jacuzzi-style bathtub and large walk-in shower.”
“I’ll check it out later.” I smiled and walked back out into the main living area. The flow of the chalet was perfect—not so big that it felt cavernous, but not closed off by a lot of interior walls. Through a sliding glass door, I could see a large hot tub on a raised deck, overlooking a pristine expanse of white snow. “Does the hot tub work?”
“We keep it covered all season, but I can pull it back for you before I leave. Let me show you how the jets work.” Luke crossed the living room quickly and unlocked the glass door, stepping out onto the deck.
I followed to the door, but without shoes, I didn’t want to get my socks dirty or wet. Not that it seemed that would be a problem. Even the outside area looked freshly cleaned.
Luke pointed out the dials on the side of the tub and described how they worked before coming back inside. “Would you like me to show you the rest?”
Really, I just wanted to be alone. Now that I was here, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was feeling. “I think I can find my way around.”
“Very well.” He grinned and pulled a set of keys out of his jeans pocket. “Enjoy your stay, Ms. Jones. If you need anything, you’ll find our numbers in the welcome packet, as well as a few surprises.”
Luke left through the front door, and I closed and locked it behind him. Even though Aspen seemed too picturesque to really be the mecca for crime that New York was, I still double locked the door and headed back into the chalet to look over the welcome packet.
Seducing the Runaway Bride (The Wrights Book 1) Page 3
