by Tess Oliver
I brought the picture closer and gasped in surprise. It was the Silk Stocking Inn, looking much more pristine. The pink rose vines were so heavy with buds they nearly obliterated the porch. But there were no pine trees surrounding it. The landscape around it looked more like farmland, flat and treeless. Was it possible the surrounding forest was only a century old? But the tree I'd clung to for warmth had to have been well over a hundred years old. It was just too big to be less than that. It was almost as if the inn had been moved from its first location to the one here in the forest.
As I pondered all the explanations, my eyes drifted to the other woman in the photo. This time my shock caused me to drop the picture. It floated to the ground and beneath the chair. I got down on my knees, stuck my hand under the chair and reached around for it.
"Did you lose something?" Coco's voice came from behind.
I sat up fast. "Uh yes, I mean no." I rubbed my hand over the tufted rug on the floor. "Just admiring the craftsmanship of this rug." I got to my feet.
Coco lowered the steaming tea cup onto the small reading table next to the chair. Her gaze caught the book that I'd left on the chair. "Oh, that book won't do you any good. It belonged to an old aunt. Not even sure what language it’s written in." She picked it up and returned it to the shelf.
"Yes, I noticed." I was flustered and feeling a bit guilty, like the kid who just got caught reading the 'no-no' book from her dad's bookshelf, the one with the bad words and grown-up content.
Coco walked over to the window and drew back the heavy curtains. In the distance, I could see a cloud of snow as if someone was racing through it on a snowmobile.
"Looks like Holt will be back soon. See, I knew he wouldn't be kept away long. I'm going up to get dressed and then I'll be on my way."
"The tea smells wonderful," I said as she walked out.
Coco stopped in the doorway and glanced back. "I think the picture is near the back leg."
I knew my chin was on the floor as she left, but it took me a second to draw my mouth shut.
I dropped back down to my knees and reached to the back legs. My fingers plucked out the picture. I looked back to make certain Coco hadn't returned. I was alone.
I walked the picture to the window for better light. It was her. It was Coco, dressed like the couple in nineteenth century fashion. It wasn't a costume party. It wasn't a staged photo from an amusement park or photo studio. It was genuine.
The buzz of snowmobiles drew my attention from the picture to the scene outside. Two riders were racing over the icy landscape, kicking up snow and jumping over dips and hills as they went. It was easy to recognize Holt from the funky Mohawk helmet.
As they drew closer, the other rider waved and turned right to head another direction. Holt headed back toward the inn. He took off on a big jump. Defying physics, the heavy, unwieldy machine flew through the air. But the landing wasn't quite so smooth. Holt hit hard. I covered my mouth in alarm as I watched him fly over the handlebars, eventually coming to a jarring stop in a mound of snow.
I hurried to the bookshelf and pushed the picture back into the book. There was no time to grapple with the inexplicable photo now. I raced out of the library, out the front door. I had to push roses out of my way as I flew down the front steps.
The crash had happened just a block away, but I was hardly dressed for a jog in the snow. My feet were wet and my hands were frozen by the time I reached the giant mound of snow and man.
I released the breath I'd been holding when I saw him sit up and take off his helmet. "Fucking hell," he said to himself. His face shot my direction when he heard me approach.
I stopped and shoved my hands in my pockets, as if worn denim was going to be any kind of protection out on the ice. "That was pretty. Are you all right?"
"Got some bumps and bruises but I'll live." He grinned up at me. "Of course, I might need some tending once I get back to the inn. I'll bet those lips of yours will cure anything that ails me."
"Yep, you're all right." The same illogical thought process that let me think the jean pockets would provide warmth, prompted me to stick out my hand and give him a hand up. He laughed at my gesture but then took hold of my hand. Instead of me helping him up, I went down, right into his lap."
"Now this is what I call first aid." He kissed me on the lips.
"I would say that was a great kiss only I'm not sure because I can't feel my mouth or any other parts, for that matter."
"Guess it is kind of cold out here." He helped me up, and with a groan of pain, pushed to his feet. He squinted back at the mound of snow that he'd used for his ill-fated jump. "That was all your fault."
"My fault?" I asked. "How the heck was that crazy stunt my fault?"
"It wasn't a crazy stunt. I fly over that mound every time I ride back to the inn. I've never screwed up the landing. But, there I was, sailing through the air, then without warning, an extremely hot woman appeared in the window of the inn. I lost my focus and boom. Next thing I knew, I was in the snow."
We walked back to his snowmobile which had landed right side up and was still running. "Well, since you used the phrase extremely hot woman, I won't be angry about becoming your excuse for a spectacularly bad jump."
He rested his helmet in his lap and climbed on. I straddled the seat behind him. My plans to cuddle against him for warmth were scrapped by the realization that his clothes were wet with snow.
We chugged back to the inn. Coco was just packing up her car. "I've left the timer on for the chicken pot pies. There's vanilla bean ice cream in the freezer to go with the fudge sauce I left on the stove," she called as she climbed into her car.
"Did she just say fudge sauce?" I asked.
"She did."
"God, I love that woman."
"She's a magical lady, that's for damn sure."
As he said it, my mind went back to the picture, the picture of long ago where Coco looked the same age she looked right now. Maybe she had a great aunt or great grandmother that looked exactly like her. That wasn't unheard of at all. That was it, I decided firmly. It could be the only explanation. Now everything else that had happened—no friggin' clue. I couldn't explain any of it. And frankly, I didn't want to waste a second thinking about it. I had a magnificent man who needed some 'tending' and there were chicken pot pies and fudge sauce. Fudge sauce. Naturally.
Chapter 17
I'd gone in to take a hot shower and change while Holt took his snowmobile to the garage at the rear of the property. The garage was an outdated looking building that had most likely been built to house horse carriages instead of snowmobiles.
I'd washed my hair earlier, after my first brush with hypothermia, and was glad to skip that chore. After a long steamy shower, when I felt all my extremities had regained their circulation again, I dried off and pulled on some dry jeans and my favorite winter sweater. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and headed out of the room.
The door to Holt's room was slightly ajar. I peeked through the opening and was surprised to find him inside. He hadn't heard me and continued with his task of pulling off snow gear. As the final layer of long underwear came off, I caught sight of a red ugly bruise across his shoulder blade.
I pushed open the door. "You did hurt yourself out there."
Holt spun around. "Snow angel, didn't hear you come in. It's nothing. Trust me, I've had a lot worse." He took a step closer. Instantly, heated air swirled between us. The physical chemistry between us was so profound, it took no more than being in the same room and the static charges would start clicking off as if we were a pair of wool socks coming out of the dryer.
Holt's shirtless chest seemed to be calling to me. I smoothed my fingers over his pecs. The light touch caused his breath to shorten. Knowing that I'd caused that kind of reaction with just my fingertips thrilled me, and I wanted to do more. I wanted his heart to race at the thought of me.
He seemed to read my mind. "Of course, if you think the bruise is bad enough—" He rubbed his
callused thumb across my bottom lip. "I'll bet this mouth has a healing power all its own."
"Well, there's only one way to find out. Why don't you take off the rest of your clothes and take a hot shower while I check on the chicken pot pies. Then we'll see what I can do."
"I like that plan, but it would be even more perfect if you joined me in that shower."
"I just got out and there's this." I lifted my long tail of hair. "Takes hours to dry." I hopped up on my toes and gave him a quick kiss to erase the disappointed frown before heading downstairs.
The kitchen was warm with the aroma of buttery crust and savory gravy. The pot pies were baking in the oven, just as Coco had promised. She'd left a chilled bottle of wine on the kitchen island. I decided to have a glass while Holt showered.
I sat on the kitchen stool and sipped my drink as I stared out the kitchen window. The setting sun was at an angle that gave the illusion that the entire snowy landscape was covered with thousands of glittery diamonds. It was all so surreal, something told me that I wouldn't even be able to convey the story to Tanya without her rolling her eyes in suspicion and asking if I'd hit my head in the accident. I might not even believe it myself once I left the inn. And the man. How the heck was it going to feel to drive away from Holt? Misery was the only word I could come up with.
I took another sip of wine and lamented the notion that this was my last night in the inn. "What the hell am I doing? Hair too long to dry." I shook my head as I put the wine down and headed back upstairs.
I reached his room and walked inside. The shower was still running. Thin wisps of soapy steam curled around the half open bathroom door. My stomach tickled with a sudden case of nerves at the thought of my daring plan. I quickly took off my clothes and pulled my hair free of the band before I could change my mind.
I pushed open the bathroom door and closed it behind me. The fogged glass of the shower stall showed the massive silhouette of the man standing beneath the showerhead. He was turned toward the wall and had not heard me walk in. The click of the shower door alerted him to my presence.
His face popped up, and he looked over his shoulder at me.
I shrugged. "I figure my hair can dry, but I won't have this opportunity again."
Holt turned and pulled me into his arms. Hot water cascaded like thin, hot water rivulets down our backs as we kissed. My hands slid down his chest, still slick with soap and continued down to the erection pressing against me. His groan echoed in the shower stall as I wrapped my fingers around his cock.
I pressed my mouth against his rock hard stomach as I slowly dropped down to my knees. He tangled his fingers in my hair as I kissed the fleshy tip of his erection. I parted my lips and took in as much as I could of him. My hand grasped the remainder of his impossibly long shaft. I cupped his heavy sac with my free hand, a move that pushed another deep groan from his chest.
"God, baby, your mouth is so fucking perfect." His words rained down on my head like the streams of hot water.
I moved my lips over him and teased him with my tongue. His hips rocked gently, coaxing me to take in more. I could feel him against the back of my throat, but there was far too much of him. I ran my mouth along him from base to tip and caressed his balls.
"Jen," his voice was low and gritty and nearly muted by the roar of the water. "Let me fuck you. Now."
I slowly removed my mouth from him. He reached down and pulled me to my feet. "Let me feel all of you," he growled. It seemed any shred of control had been obliterated by my lips on his cock. His green eyes were dark like gems, and his jaw was set in firm determination. "I give you my word, I'm clean. Please, snow angel, let me fuck you without any barrier. I want to feel every inch of your pussy squeezed around my cock."
I nodded hesitantly, not as much from concern that we were doing this unprotected but from the intense almost feral look in his eyes.
"I'm covered." It was all I could squeak out before he had me in his arms and braced against the shower wall. He impaled me hard and I gasped in shock, but slowly, my gasp settled into a long string of satisfied moans. It would be days before my pussy recovered from this weekend. I would be saddened when the tingling tenderness was gone.
His deep thrusts brought me quickly to climax and as my body shuddered and my pussy tightened around him, his arms held me as if he'd never let me go. I'd barely caught my breath when his movements intensified. His groan rattled the shower door as he came inside of me.
Warm water had begun to turn cold, sparking us from the tranquil quiet we'd fallen into in each other's arms. I'd never felt so right in any man's arms as I did in Holt's.
Chapter 18
I didn't need to reach to the next pillow to know that Holt was no longer stretched out next to me. After a romantic dinner, we'd climbed the stairs and started all over again with sex. Only this time we'd moved it to my bedroom just to mix things up. Not that it mattered. I was fairly convinced I could have incredible sex with Holt in the middle of a cactus patch. The surroundings and circumstances just didn't matter as long as he was there.
I was too tired at the break of dawn, when I heard him shuffling around and getting dressed, to ask him where he was off to. I wasn't sure what time my car would be returned. I hoped Coco wouldn't mind if I hung out for a few more hours. I didn't want the weekend or my time with Holt to end just yet. I needed to work up the courage to drive away first. Home and work tomorrow were going to be dreary and lonely for me after these past few, glorious days.
A knock on the door sent my heart into overdrive. I clutched the sheet modestly over my breasts, which was sort of comical considering. "Come in."
Coco walked in. I had to work hard not to show my utter disappointment at not seeing Holt on the other side. She was carrying a silver tray filled with goodies and coffee. "Thought you'd need a little breakfast before your drive home." She placed the tray on the table by the window. "Which reminds me—" She fished in her apron pocket and pulled out my keys. "Your car is all finished. Good as new. No charge. The mechanic owed Holt a favor."
"That is so nice. I'll have to thank Holt. Do you know where he is?" I asked with a light tone, even though deep inside my heart was breaking.
Coco poured coffee into the cup from a silver coffee pot. "He rode out early this morning. Barely had time for breakfast. His shift at the ranger station started this morning."
"He's gone?" This time I couldn't even pretend a light and airy tone.
"Yes. His shift lasts three days, so he won't be back until Tuesday night. Let me know if you need anything else." With her usual cordial smile, she turned around and walked out, seemingly unaware that I was sitting like a stone statue in the bed trying to keep myself together.
I listened as her footsteps tapped the hallway floor and stairs, then peeled myself out of bed. My feet felt heavy as I tried to push them into my slippers. I grabbed the robe up off the chair and looked down at the tray of food as I pulled it on. It smelled wonderful and my stomach was empty, but I couldn't take one bite. I sat and drank the coffee, hoping it would relieve the heaviness in my head. As I drank it, I stared out the window and hoped really hard that a snowmobile would appear in the vast white landscape. But there was no snowmobile and no Holt.
I felt a little pathetic about it, but I lifted all the pillows and sheets hoping he'd left some kind of note, something that told me how I could contact him once I got back home. There was nothing. I had only myself to kick in the butt. It was a fun weekend. That was all it was meant to be. A man like Holt wasn’t going to tie himself down to one woman. I was being stupid. It was over and it was time for me to get in my car and drive down to the city, away from the snow, away from the inn, away from my fantasy man.
Chapter 19
Tanya dragged herself into work, looking as if she'd just spent the weekend building a house with her two bare hands. The only sign of a ski vacation was the sunburn on her nose. The rest of the work crew trudged in one by one with the same dead as a zombie expression. Somet
hing told me it was going to be a long day of grumpy arguments and terse words. But it seemed everyone had come back in one piece. With the exception of the new girl, Jordan, who looked more angry than tired. She walked past Tanya and me without so much as a hello.
I shot a questioning look at Tanya. She got a sudden burst of energy as she grabbed my arm and pulled me past the offices and through the workroom to my station. I hadn't turned on my computer yet because I was a coward. I just wasn't ready to look into the all too familiar eyes of the video game character on my monitor.
Tanya took a quick peek around. "I guess the new conquest fell flat. Stan and Jordan did not hit it off at all. She is super whiny. You know how Stan gets that little tick in his cheek when something irritates him only he's far too cool to lose it?"
"I know the tick, yes."
"Well, that little twitch was going off all weekend. And it was because of Jordan. Apparently, a nice pair of boobs can only get you so far. There's tons more to tell you, but I want to hear about your weekend. I got your message from a strange phone number. Tell me everything."
"The strange phone number," I said to myself. "I could call him. No, I won't. He left without a word."
Tanya stuck her hands on her hips. "Hello, earth to Jen. Care to cut me in the conversation? Whose number and why the heck did he leave without a word? And what word would that have been?"
"Jen." Stan's voice echoed through the workroom and caused all the half-dazed techies to look up bleary-eyed from their computers.
"I'll tell you later, Tanya, if I can work up the courage to talk about it." I brushed past her to the hallway.
