by Cassie Mae
Mel sighed, this time in exasperation, and waved them all out the door. Winter hopped off the side table and bee-lined for Michael.
“Hey.”
“Hmm,” he grunted back. She frowned. He’d been quieter than normal during that meeting, and she was still wondering about last night.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked. “Did you catch what Eddie had?”
He smirked, pushing up from the couch and gathering his things. “I’m good.”
“But are you well?”
His eyes met hers, and there might have been a smile on his face, but it wasn’t in his soul. “I’m fine, Princess.”
“It’s Winter right now.” She folded her arms and watched him fumble with his papers. “And I’m worried about you.”
He took a deep breath and shook his head before turning to face her. “Promise, it’s all good. We got a pool party today, and that means many, many single women in bathing suits. Perhaps they’ll want to snuggle up to this.” He ran a hand down his torso, and Winter backhanded him in the chest.
“You keep away from them.”
“Nothing wrong with a little flirting.”
He said that a lot… but there was something different about it this time. Like he was trying to convince himself and not just her.
Winter shook it off; if he didn’t want to talk, that was fine.
“Well, just keep it in your pants,” she teased, and that seemed to pull him out for a moment. He laughed whole-heartedly and plopped a heavy arm over her shoulders and steered her toward the door.
“Hey, I will if you will.” He winked and then headed toward his room, leaving her scowling at his clever—and not entirely inaccurate—pun.
The heat from Bells’ curling iron was stinking up the entire suite. Will’s brows furrowed, and he hoisted himself off his bed.
“So tell me,” he said, entering the shared living space between their two rooms, “what’s the point o’ doing your hair before swimmin’?”
Bells turned toward him, a grimace on her already done-up face. “If y’all have to ask, you don’t understand me as well as I thought ya did.”
He nodded, slumping against the doorframe of the massive bathroom she’d claimed every inch of. Will was surprised she hadn’t made him use the community restrooms down the hall when he had to do his business.
“You ought to take a page from my book, here,” she said, giving him a once over, the curling iron poised in the air as it smoked her red strands. “You could use a bit of sprucing up.”
His hand went straight to his beard. “It’s not that bad,” he lied. Truth was, the thing had gotten out of hand over the past few days without trimming. He hated shaving, which was why he only did it when the customers in his pizza place would wrinkle their noses at his beard… or when he knew Penelope would be present. Without either of those reasons being a problem here, he hadn’t given it much thought.
But there was an odd feeling that he didn’t have very often—that Bells might have had a point. No way would he tell her so, though.
“You’re coming down for the party, right?” she said, a springy curl bouncing by her face as she released the curling iron.
“I dunno…”
“Party pooper,” she sang, bopping her head back and forth every syllable. The corner of his mouth twitched.
“It’s a pool party. Forgive me for not thinking to bring my bathing suit to a place called Frostville.”
Her brow pulled in. “They provide the suits, Will. They got all kinds in the closet down the hall.”
“You been snooping around?”
“I’ve been reading the guest pamphlet.” She grabbed another chunk of hair and wrapped it around the iron. “Go check it out. I’m sure they’ve got plenty of choices in your size.”
He rubbed his beard again. Yeah, he really should give it a trim. “I’m not sure ‘bout swimming, Bells. Ain’t it supposed to rain?”
“Indoor pool.” She gave him a look. “Weren’t you payin’ attention at all during lunch?”
Honestly, he hadn’t. His brain had switched to the off button as soon as he saw Winter walk in with Michael’s bulky arm over her delicate shoulder. He was comforting her—part of the act, Will was sure—but fiery darts had pierced just behind his neck, and every word he said came out muffled and distant. Just remembering had his neck flaring up again.
“Even if you don’t swim, there will be plenty of clues dropped. Don’t you want to figure out who the murderer is?”
He snorted, pushing off the doorframe. “I think it’s pretty obvious.”
She set the curling iron down and put a hand on his chest, mouth wide open. “Oh my goodness, yes. But her name hasn’t been tossed around at all.”
“Her?” Will let out a confused laugh. “Who you thinkin’ it is?”
“Ms. Vancouver.” She tilted her head. “I figured you’d be the first one to suspect. You spend all your time with her. Well… her and the princess.”
Will’s heart thrummed fast and thin, and heat flushed his ears. “Do not.” Great, his only defense was something he hadn’t said since he was eight years old.
Bells pursed her lips together, her silence upsetting him more than if she’d said something. He let out a long, defeated breath. “I’ll go get a suit.”
She moved the iron to clap and jump on her toes. “Yay!”
“Two-and-a-half more days left of this place,” he called over his shoulder.
“Don’t pretend you ain’t happy to be here!” she called back. “I haven’t seen homesick Will all day.”
He shook his head and quickly stepped into the hallway. He didn’t want to admit just how many times Bells had hit the nail right on the head in just one conversation.
The indoor pool was hidden away in the basement, the steps leading just past the closet Will had stuffed Winter into on that first night. As they’d past it, a smile crept onto his face.
There were several servers in blue vests wandering around with trays of drinks and appetizers, and Will found the one with the bacon-wrapped cocktail wieners and followed that guy around like a salivating puppy. Bells had found her beau, sniffing him out the moment they’d walked in. She was parked on a chaise lounge with a drink in her hand and a flirt in her laugh. Will kept one eye on her and one eye on the food.
Winter had said Garreth wasn’t all that bright, but that wasn’t exactly a bad thing. Women made men act stupid, and Will wasn’t a stranger to the fumbling that came with trying to catch a woman’s attention. There’d been plenty of times a pizza would fall right out of his hands when Penelope was watching his every move.
Or I just trip all over myself and take the woman down with me.
He blinked and shook his head. No… last night was just embarrassing, not the effects of being infatuated.
He scratched at his beard, surprise hitting him when his fingers grazed only a thin layer of scruff the electric razor had left him with. Bells had assured him that he looked “so incredibly handsome, William!” but he was still a bit skeptical. What had possessed him to make himself feel even more out of place was beyond him. Yeah, he did stuff for Bells all the time, but not when it came to his beard. That was reserved for other women.
He slapped a hand to his face and ran it down slowly. His brain was short-circuiting. He needed more food.
A tray of something that smelled like heaven and pork passed him, and he turned from Bells to follow the server. Just as he caught up and snagged the toothpick, his attention was effectively diverted.
Winter had just stepped into the pool, her short legs looking long as they peeked from her sparkly blue bathing suit. They disappeared inch by inch as she descended the pool steps, the water kissing her skin in small waves. Her hair wasn’t done up like Bells’—instead, the platinum locks were slicked back into a clip atop her head, flyaways framing her face. A smile was wide on her lips, her eyes on the water like it was a river of chocolate. Her fingers splayed across the surface, and s
he made soft circles until she caught sight of Michael. An adorable, evil glint sparkled in her gray eyes, and she bit her lip and squealed, sending a giant wave his direction.
Now, not just Will was captivated by Winter, but most people were watching. Michael wiped his face free of water, a playfulness in his gaze as he prepared to splash back. Winter laughed, the sound so much louder with the acoustics in the room, and swiveled in the water, the wave Michael sent at her splaying over her back and cascading down her head. Will wanted nothing more than to jump in and dunk her face under the surface, only to have her giggle and try to dunk him, her body up against his and her hands on his head.
But darn it if he couldn’t move a muscle.
A few guests hopped into the pool, taking Winter’s lead into the splash party. Bells kept her distance, curling her feet up on the chaise to keep from getting wet. There was a small frown on her face, her eyes on the pool like she wanted to jump in, but she wasn’t going to risk messing her hair up.
Winter caught Will’s eyes, pool water dripping down her bright face. She tilted her head, blinking for a few seconds, and that’s when he realized he was still frozen, hand poised to eat the appetizer.
He slid the food into his mouth and quickly tossed the toothpick into the trash behind him. Winter’s teeth came out over her bottom lip, the evil glint still in her eyes as she softly splashed his direction—a coax to get him in the pool.
He slowly shook his head, a grin playing on his mouth. There were now several bodies in there, and wasn’t he supposed to be doing something?
Watching Bells, that’s right.
Winter’s bottom lip jutted out just the tiniest bit, and he came undone. His grin turned to a full blown smile, and he took a running leap into the water, cannon-balling right next to her. He heard her gleeful scream just before he sunk underwater.
As his face broke the surface, Winter had both her arms up in victory. “He has fun, people!” she shouted, and when everyone laughed and cheered, his ears burned. Had he really been that much of a sad sack?
His eyes locked on hers, his heart pattering in his chest at just how different Winter was from the spoiled rich girl he’d assumed she was when he’d arrived. He splashed her again, and his embarrassment swept away with the waves.
“It looks good on you, you know,” Winter said, dragging her hands down her hair and wringing the water out into her white towel. They were both perched on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water. Winter’s toes were painted white with small jewels dotting the corners of her big toes.
“What’s that?” he asked.
She lifted her chin, her eyes dropping to his mouth. “The scruff. It looks soft.”
He chuckled. “It ain’t.” Then he leaned in so she could have a feel for herself. Her shoulders shook with amusement before she settled her palm against his cheek. A cute wrinkle appeared above her nose as she rubbed his face.
“Ouch.” She laughed.
“Told ya.”
Her hand drew back, her eyes moving from his lips up to his eyes. He’d forgotten for just a moment that she might be playing her role, but he really prayed she wasn’t.
“I’m not needed at dinner tonight,” she said, dropping her gaze to the pool. She lifted her leg from the water before letting it dip back in. “Might be a good time for the four of us to get together.”
He gave her a blank stare, and she raised her eyebrows. “You said we should do something alone with Maybelle and Garreth.”
“I did?”
She nodded. “Last night.”
That explained it; he barely remembered anything other than the feel of Winter’s flannel pajamas against him.
“Oh, well, what did ya have in mind?”
She perked right up, inching closer to him so they could have more privacy. But everyone was pretty occupied. Bells was still talking to Garreth over on the chaise lounges, and Michael had joined them. Alexis was busy at the bar, scribbling away in her notebook and chatting with the two people getting hammered. Ms. Vancouver was asleep on her own chaise lounge, sunglasses over her eyes even though they were inside. And everyone else was either splashing around or flirting in the pool or hot tub.
“We could have our own private dinner.” There was the tiniest bit of hesitance in her voice, so unlike her usual confidence. “Opportunity for some good conversation.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said with a nod. He was up for a night away from that big table in the dining hall with assigned seating. He’d actually be able to have a conversation with Winter during a meal. Not that it was his priority.
She bit away a smile and looked down at the water again. “Um… and could you show up a little earlier? I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“I can’t tell you,” she said, knocking into his shoulder. “It’ll ruin the surprise.”
“What if I don’t like surprises?” he teased.
“Too bad. I’m surprising you anyway.” She stuck out her tongue, and the innocence of the action had Will’s heart pumping double time. He pressed a hand on her upper back, watching her eyes widen with shock, and he pushed her into the pool. A belly laugh rocked his core, and he tossed his head back. Winter came out of the water and grabbed his leg, giving him his just desserts. And for a good hour, Will’d forgotten all about wanting to get back to Alabama.
There was a guest house on the west side of the property, one that Winter had used as her own home several years ago but hadn’t visited in ages. She knew the cleaning crew cleaned it regularly; she’d seen them entering and leaving on the nights she’d sit out on the back balcony and watch the sun set. She’d think about going inside the guest house, but never found the time—or at least that was her excuse. Truth was, there was nothing there but memories she’d rather forget.
Her upbringing wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t like the families she saw around her. Certainly not like Will and Maybelle—their relationship seemed so tight.
Her nannies had come in and out of her life so quickly she’d learned not to get too attached. Mom and Dad had been too busy hosting parties, galas, organizing city events, and spending the majority of their time on politics, acting, and making sure they looked good for the camera to finger paint with her or have family dinner conversations.
It was fine. Winter was the product of two celebrities. Hence her celebrity child name—which she loved, but she knew it wasn’t one that was on the Popular Names of the Year List. Lives were busy, but Winter had learned the value of hard work. Her mother climbed and clawed her way to gain respect in the government, while her father had to work part time as a pizza delivery man while he auditioned for film after film, saving and pinching pennies until he’d hit the one part that finally got them out of a one-bedroom apartment and into a home. Then another home, then a vacation home, and on and on until they’d said, “I think since we have millions of dollars, we should have a kid.”
They were never shy about explaining how they’d gotten their money, drilling into Winter that she shouldn’t expect handouts. She liked that she never had a pony, had to work hard for good grades to get that car when she turned sixteen, was told she needed to clean her own plate after meals and put away her own toys after playing, even though they had the staff to take care of it. She respected her parents for it, loved her parents for it, and appreciated the values she had because of them.
So while she hadn’t had that close-knit relationship she’d craved, and she had always felt a little bit distant from her parents, their relationship wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t enough. And she’d lost them both before it could become that way.
When her parents passed so unexpectedly, so young, the world grieved. Winter was a fresh adult, having just turned eighteen, so the inheritance went to her—the houses, the money… and suddenly she was responsible for jobs, housing, and she had to grow up. Instead of taking the art classes she’d picked for college, she went into finance, business, and management. Winter could ba
rely set foot in the mansion with so many memories, so she’d moved to the guest house for a while. When she’d opened Frostville Mansion, she finally packed up and moved back into the mansion, wanting to be near the guests and be involved in the experience.
A sense of loneliness swept over her, something she’d often ignored or suppressed. She had so much—the mansion, the business, her staff, the actors, the plays, the guests… It hardly felt fair for her to complain or feel sadness over having no one when there were many out there who had less.
She tapped her foot against the stone walkway in front of the guest house, pushing at a loose rock with the toe of her five-inch heels. She’d noticed just how tall Will was earlier today when she was bare-footed, excited that she could wear her tallest heels around him. So Winter had slipped on her favorite Alexander McQueens and took the quickest way possible out to the guest house—which was tucked away so well that when she’d told Will to meet her there, he’d said, “Guest house? Where the heck d’ya keep that thing?”
Oh, how she loved that accent of his.
The familiar heavy footfalls echoing across the grounds had her lips turning up before she’d even seen him.
“So that’s where you keep it,” Will said, his grin so much more noticeable now that his face was free of his very full beard. He seemed so much more at ease than he had during those first days, and she hoped it was because he was actually having fun with her, and not just because he needed a shave.
“Cozy, right?” She patted the thick wooden door, and Will snorted into his fist.
“That thing is still bigger than my house and my pizza shop combined.”
Shock made her eyes blink a little bit faster. Was he kidding? The guest house was only two bedrooms, one and a half bath. She’d assumed with the success of his pizza place he was living it up in a southern way… plantation house or something similar. She scolded herself for having thought she was so grounded when really she was probably as spoiled as they came.
