“I don’t have the remote control,” he said.
She slapped her forehead, nodded. “Silly me. Or should I say, Sylly Minguez. He has one.”
She was so damned adorable. He almost laughed. “Would you like to get it out of your car?” he asked. “So you don’t have to worry?”
“Nah. Not my problem.” She nuzzled Zeus, let him lick her forehead. “Everything I need is right here.”
His foot pressed down on the gas pedal but he told himself to calm down, she was just playing around, laughing with the dog.
Everything I need…
“How long is the drive?” she asked.
“Depends. Traffic, weather. It might take us the rest of the day, unfortunately.”
Hopefully. He didn’t know how much time alone he’d get to spend with her at the cabin. This way she was all his, whether she liked it or not, at least for the next four to ten hours. It all depended on forces outside of his control.
He hated outside forces.
Maybe they’d get stuck in a snow bank. He’d seduce her, convince her he was wildly in love with her and wanted everything big and small she was willing to throw his way, and then they could skip the whole Christmas gathering thing with family and spend the next two weeks in a remote mountain chalet. Naked.
Just as he was imagining stripping off all her clothes so they could survive the night in the snowed-in car with skin-to-skin contact, Rose asked, “So, why’d you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Come on.”
He’d done a few things. He’d bought Sylly’s house; fomented an online rebellion, ruining a multi-million-dollar deal; recruited a new CEO for WellyNelly; started a new company with this new little thing he’d coded up in his spare time…
“I’m not staying, you know,” she added.
His stomach clenched. “Excuse me?”
“I’ll get my own place. With an actual lease. I can’t afford to buy any property of my own, of course, not yet, but I need a place to live that isn’t under the control of other people.” She poked him in the leg. “Get it?”
She was staying in California. He looked over his shoulder, checking his blind spot as he merged, slowly, into the lanes to Sacramento. The traffic was bad, over a dozen lanes across of stop-and-go traffic in all directions, everyone trying to get out of town or into it. The rain made everything worse, slick and dangerous, and he’d already seen three cars pulled over, hazards on, fenders smashed.
There were some things you just couldn’t hurry.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I was just trying to help.”
“Who? You or me?” She set Zeus down in the back. “You own WellyNelly and now my house. Maybe you think I’m part of the package. Because I’ll be so grateful.”
God, she knew more, or thought she knew. But her voice was so soft, so controlled, not angry at all. What was she thinking? Feeling?
“I don’t own WellyNelly,” he said carefully. “Only a part of it.”
“But it was all your idea. You created it when you were, like, in diapers.”
“Don’t mock. It’s not easy going to high school in Depends, believe me.”
She didn’t laugh. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He signaled, moved into the far left lane. Maybe he didn’t want this ride to last as long as he’d thought. He hadn’t trapped her; she’d trapped him. “I don’t know,” he said quietly.
“I was starting to feel like maybe I’d been too quick to, you know, give up on what we’d started—”
He swerved to avoid rear-ending the pickup in front of him. Heart in his mouth, he glanced at her.
“—but then I find out you didn’t trust me with huge parts of your life. And mine, actually. You left me out to dry, Mark. At work. I should’ve known what I was walking into.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“But why not tell me?” She addressed her hands, the side of the road, Zeus, who’d climbed back into her lap—she talked to everything but him. “Early on, okay, we were practically strangers. But later…”
“I should’ve. It was one of those things that changed over time. My reasons changed.”
“Hmm,” she said, still not looking at him. “You know why I’m here today? What my reasons are?”
He gripped the wheel. “What?”
“I’m trying to help Blair.” Rubbing Zeus behind the ears, cuddling him to her chest, she added, “We’ll see if any of my reasons change over time.”
If the minivan in front of him hadn’t changed lanes suddenly, he would’ve plowed right into it.
* * *
Rose awoke just as the sun was setting. The snow was falling so thick and fast she could hardly see five feet in front of the car, even in the remaining daylight.
“How long was I out?” Disoriented, she rubbed her eyes. Last thing she remembered, they were driving through Sacramento. If she hadn’t been so sleep deprived, she never would’ve lost consciousness for hours so close to Mark—only inches from those eyes, that profile, those arms and chest and long, muscular thighs.
She hoped she hadn’t drooled in her sleep.
“A few hours,” he said, offering her a gentle smile. “You must’ve been exhausted. You barely stirred when I got out to put on the chains.”
Vaguely she remembered a stop, cold wind blowing in, dogs yapping. “You put me in chains?”
His smile turned wolfish.
What am I saying? She reminded herself the dream she’d been having about him wasn’t real; they weren’t on those terms anymore. Kissing and licking terms. He was tempting as always, but not enough had changed; when they were alone, he’d always been charming, sexy, talkative, engaged, lovable—
When they were alone.
“Sorry I didn’t help out with the dogs,” she said. Zeus was huddled under the heating vent at her feet, gazing up at her adoringly. “Did they get a bathroom break?”
“Yeah. I thought for a minute I’d lost Europa in a snowdrift, but she’d already jumped back in the car.” They’d left the freeway and were now passing through the business district of a small lakeside town. King’s Beach, the sign said.
She pulled out her phone, looked at the map. They were on the north shore of Lake Tahoe, heading southwest. The lake was just to their left, though too whited out by snowfall to see much of it.
“I really didn’t expect so much snow,” she said. Hardly the beaches and sunshine she’d imagined when Blair told her she was moving to California.
“Forecast is for ten feet overnight,” he said.
She broke her gaze away from his profile and focused on the white road, white trees, white sky. “Are we going to get stuck up here?”
The car turned right into a development rising up above the lake. He was busy negotiating a snowdrift as high as the car, but she saw him bite back a grin. “Like the Donner Party, you mean? We passed the highway marker for them when you were asleep. I was tempted to wake you up.”
“When your brother offered me a ride, I told him I’d like to make it back by Monday.”
“Why?”
Mouth open, she hesitated. Being with John and Blair in the same house could be uncomfortable, and being with Mark, even more so.
“The office is closed for the week,” he added, giving her an intense look that made her insides flutter.
Was she really in such a hurry? Last night she’d been sure she had to leave her job, but Sylly’s words had changed everything. New management, a chance to pursue an advanced degree…
Oh, and this little idea that Mark was in love with her.
She shook her head. Mark throwing around his money and influence—which he had in excess—didn’t mean that much. He probably needed an investment opportunity anyway, and why not buy a friend’s property—beautiful, luxurious, close to home?
“Your brother can drive me if you don’t want to,” she said.
“I’ll drive you wherever and whenever you’d like.”
“So, you bought Sylly’s house,” she said, giving him an opening. He hadn’t taken any of her hints so far.
He shifted the car into low gear. The chains on the tires made the car rattle and crunch with each inch they traveled. “You weren’t supposed to know.”
“Oh, really?” She laughed. “How was that going to work? You didn’t think I’d notice?”
He stopped the car, squinting out at the A-framed houses lining the winding road. “Why, look—here we are. Can you see any numbers? We want 405.”
Zeus's ears were silky under her fingers. “Were you going to set up fake showings with a fake real estate agent?” She leaned back, tilting her head towards him, and let herself get into the spirit of the game. “Or was he going to say it was purchased by an investor who was deeply involved in business out-of-town—no, out of the country, for a long, intractable period. Europe, maybe—no, more remote. Kazakhstan. Bad roads, poor infrastructure, organized crime, very hard to just hop on a plane or the Internet and deal with a new house. Better to have a tenant there keeping things safe and cozy until he gets back. Which could be a really, really long time. In fact, he bought the house precisely because I’m living in it. I can’t leave. He’ll actually pay me to stay.”
He stared at her, awe and amusement in his eyes.
She grinned. “I’m good, aren’t I?”
Rolling down the window, he stuck his head out into the thickly falling snow. “This is it! We’re the first ones here.” When he pulled his head back in and shut the window, clumps of snow scattered around him in the car. “Our place has orange reflectors along the top windows, but it’s not dark enough yet to light them up.” With a forced, bright grin, he hit his turn signal, checked over his shoulder, checked his mirrors, and slowly edged the car into a driveway.
“Mark.”
He still didn’t look at her. “It looks like it was plowed about ten minutes ago. This whole development pays for it privately. We’d never get near the house otherwise.” He pulled the car just in front of the support posts of a deck wrapping around the second floor. The windows were dark, the sharply slanted roof blanketed with white powder.
“We’ll have to shovel the steps,” he continued, “our punishment for getting here first.”
Smiling, Rose dipped her head to nuzzle Luna, the smallest dog, who’d climbed into her lap next to Zeus. She trembled with cold, even with the heat turned up.
She’d have to pry more out of Mark once they were inside. “Will the house be warm? We need to get the dogs out of the cold.”
“Hope so.” He killed the engine, then looked at her and the dog and turned it back on, the heat blasting out of the vents. “Stay here. I’ll kick a path up the stairs, make sure the furnace is on before you go in.”
“I’m fine, it’s just the little guys,” she said.
“Of course. A tough New Yorker like yourself can handle a little weather.”
“Exactly.”
He stared at her for a moment before getting out. Slipping his hands into gloves, he climbed over a snowdrift in front of the bottom stairs, kicked away some ice, and made his way slowly up to the door.
“Our evasive hero,” Rose whispered in Luna’s oversized, pointy ear.
A minute later he was back outside wielding a broom. He brushed the handrail, then the steps, his movements powerful, graceful, and assured.
“Funny how he’s so different when he’s alone,” she told Luna.
No, not just alone. With her.
She remembered the day they’d met, how he thought she was a lesbian. And then the way he tripped over himself whenever Blair was around. For the first time, Rose wondered if she should be flattered, not jealous, that he found her so comfortable to be with.
But, she admitted to herself, she was jealous. What if he was pursuing her because she seemed easy? Not promiscuous—though she’d been that—but convenient? Practical? Not the love of his life, not a great passion, but… good enough. Comfortable. Like a well-padded sofa. The kind of girl you’d settle for when you were ready to settle down.
Luna yelped and she realized she’d squeezed her. “Sorry, girl. Your daddy’s cleared the way, so let’s get you inside.”
Maybe she was wrong to want more passion, more need, just more, than that.
But why should she be the only one to suffer?
She pulled on the only gloves she had, rainbow-striped acrylic with pink fake-fur trim at the wrist, and gingerly stepped out into the snow.
Her foot sank down. And down and down and down. By the time she stopped moving the snow had swallowed her leg all the way up to her right thigh.
One hand still on the door handle, she struggled back up into the truck, short of breath, half of her body caked with white, dry powder.
Mark had been able to walk right over to the stairs. Was she that much heavier than he was?
He pulled open the driver’s side door. “Come out over here. There’s a drop-off on that side. Sorry I didn’t warn you.”
Relieved, she crawled over the center console. “I was feeling very heavy just then.”
He got a silly grin on his face. “Like gold.”
The dogs wiggled their way over to the steering wheel but stayed in the truck, big eyes on the big, cold, white outdoors. Trying to ignore how Mark took hold of her arm, she put her left foot out, then her right. “Thank God I didn’t sink to the center of the earth again.”
He looked down at her right pant leg. “Those boots are made for city walking.”
“Yeah, well, they’re all I’ve got.”
“I’m not complaining. They’re sexy.”
She looked up into his face.
“I’m not going to apologize,” he said. “That’s not a come-on, it’s a fact.”
Ducking her head to hide her flushing cheeks—honestly, they were turning snow into steam—she scooped Luna up into her arms and went up the stairs, ducking her into her jacket to shield her from the wind.
He reached out and touched her back. “Careful, it’s icy. I’ll get the salt out here in a minute, after the dogs are in.”
Luna seemed to know where she was. As soon as Rose crossed the threshold, the dog wriggled out of her jacket onto the floor and immediately trotted down the wood-paneled hall, bottom wagging happily.
Mark came up behind her with the other two dogs. “You stay here. I’ll get the stuff.”
The dogs’ toenails clicked on the floor as they trotted after their friend.
“That’s not fair, I can help.”
“Let me feel manly,” he said. “So seldom do I get to enjoy the sensation.”
Smiling, she wiped some snow off her shoulder. “Oh, all right. You can be manly.”
His eyes were hot on hers. “Thanks.”
“Mark…”
“Don’t say anything. I know.” He turned. “I’ll get the rest of the stuff. You can pick out whatever room you want. That’s part of the tradition, first come first serve.” He stepped outside, shutting the door hard behind him.
All right, so he didn’t look at her as though she were a comfortable sofa. Those sharp, hungry, smoldering eyes were not those of a man who wanted to lie down, roll over, and take a nap.
Breathing unsteadily, she bent over and unzipped her boots, knocking away the snow as best she could. She hung up her jacket on a one of the brass hooks sticking out of a snowshoe bolted to the paneled wall.
If only they’d come up here together earlier, just the two of them, before—
No. She couldn’t think like that. Two people couldn’t live in a bubble; they had to fit in the world together, too. She was no hermit. Couldn’t be.
There was a long hallway that stretched straight ahead, doors on either side, the walls decorated with vintage ski resort posters, more antique snowshoes, a pair of thin wood skis hung in an X. The floors, walls, and ceiling were honey-colored wood, glossy and warm. Colorful Native American and Mexican area rugs dot
ted the floor.
Very nice. Maybe she could live here.
The door opened behind her, bringing Mark hauling their luggage and a blast of cold air.
“You come up to this place every year?” she asked.
He piled the bags up near the door, stomped his feet on the rug, nodded. “Have you picked a room yet?”
“Any recommendations?”
“The left one on the end is a good choice. It usually goes first.”
“I’ll go check it out.” She tiptoed over the clumps of snow to her bag, lifted it over her shoulder, her eyes on his face. He turned, disappeared into a closet.
All of the bedrooms were similarly decorated: lots of wood, colorful quilts, fluffy down comforters, wool blankets—floor-to-ceiling mountain chic.
Even the last bedroom on the left. She went in, dropping her bag and looking around. It was nice, but she didn’t see why he would suggest it. The decor was the same and it seemed a little smaller than the others, perhaps because the four-poster, king-sized bed took up most of the floor space.
He’d followed her, stood in the doorway, watching her with a serious look she couldn’t read.
“It’s fine,” she said, sitting on the bed, bouncing a little. It was firm, high off the ground, didn’t creak at all. Her grandparents had a bed like it, joked they’d have it forever because it was heavier than the house itself and couldn’t be moved.
He continued to stare.
“What?” she asked.
He walked across the room until he was standing a few feet from the bed. His eyes darkened as he gazed down at her. “You should know this,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll do everything and anything to join you in that bed before you go back home.”
His words snaked down her spine like kisses. She wished she hadn’t sat down, that she could meet him eye-to-eye. Then again, it was good she wasn’t standing; she suddenly felt weak all over. “Consider me warned.”
He tilted his head, letting his gaze rake over her, then left without another word.
She counted to ten before letting herself fall onto her back, her heart pounding. The ceiling was decorated with more antique snowshoes, one modified with a light bulb.
His voice surprised her from the doorway. “By the way, my family refers to this as ‘Mark’s room,’” he said. A tight grin crept over his face. “But I’m happy to share.”
ThisTimeNextDoor Page 27
