“Good luck.” Sandra tiled her head. “So Patrick, would you like to come with me?”
“Mmm hmm.” He looked at her with hooded eyes over his coffee cup.
Maybe she imagined it. She could have been still tired from the long drive. Maybe she was horny. But she could swear she heard hidden meaning in his voice.
She gave him a questioning glare, but he’d averted his gaze. He stared at his plate, shoveling food into his mouth with the gusto of a man starved.
They all ate quietly, enjoying their meal. After they finished, they put the dishes in the dishwasher and let it do its thing.
Sandra grabbed her boots and struggled to put them on.
“You need help?” Patrick asked.
“Nope. I’m capable of dressing myself, thank you,” She went into the living room and sat on the edge of the couch, then leaned way back and tugged on her other boot.
Patrick joined her and purred in her ear, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her lobe. “Let me know when you have trouble undressing yourself. I’ll be glad to lend a hand,”
What the…?
Her fingers froze in the process of fastening her boots. He winked at her and sauntered away. Okay, she hadn’t imagined that. Her body heated quickly, and not because of the fire. The warmth and dampness made its way between her thighs, too.
Ignore it, ignore it. He’s messing with you. They like to do that.
She stomped both feet to make sure her boots were nice and snug, then grabbed her skis and made her way toward the door.
“Wait up.” He grabbed the car keys from the mantel. “I’ll take those for you. And while I’m at it, I’ll get mine—you never know.”
Sandra waited by the car until he came out.
“You’re not going to do the double black diamond are you? It’s been a good year since you’ve been on the slopes.” He leaned the skies against the car.
“I either go big or go home. Besides, if you have good ski legs, they never forget.”
They both laughed. Patrick fastened their skis to the roof of the car, while she climbed into the front seat.
“So Sandra, what do you think about the lodge? You think Sean is serious?” He buckled his seat belt.
“Not sure. But it is something to consider. Heck, I like change and doing different things sometimes. Maybe when he has an off-season at Boot Camp, he can…. Hey, that’s it.” she exclaimed suddenly, grabbing his shoulder in her excitement.
“What?” He rubbed at the spot.
“Fall and winter, the gym isn’t that crowded. Could be the cold, the rain. People want to stay in. Or they worked out all summer; they don’t feel the need to work out all year ’round.”
“Or they could be bored. Even a place like Boot Camp can only offer so much,” Patrick added.
“Exactly. So, why not a resort that offers different workouts? Skiing, sledding…. During the winter months, we can run the lodge.”
“Who will run it?” He cut his eyes to her.
“We can.”
Patrick jerked the car to a stop. “That’s what I thought you meant.”
Sandra held on to the dashboard, then cut her eyes to him. “Why not? You two are seasoned trainers. I’m a damn good nutritionist, if I do say so myself. I think it will be great to start our own business. Let’s do our research, look at other similar firms, find out what we’re getting into.”
He cocked his head and nodded. “You might have something there. But hold off on the suggestion. Sean can be impulsive, and we’re talking a serious venture, not a new color of paint for his house. Starting a business is risky.”
“Aren’t they all? But I understand where you’re coming from. Don’t worry, mum’s the word.”
***
The lifts were already packed when they arrived. But Sandra wasn’t surprised. Instead, they headed to the local coffee shop and kept a lookout at the crowds.
“So Miss Daredevil, you like doing something different sometimes?” Patrick gulped down his latté, grimacing.
“Slow down there. Yeah, I guess. I mean, it depends on what it is. What do you have in mind?”
“Maybe something along the lines of dating.”
“Dating? Wow, that’s an out-of-the-blue subject.” She took a slow sip of her cocoa. Where was he going with this conversation?
“Just small talk while we wait. Who did you date last? And how long ago?”
She snorted. “Pig Nose Billy Sampson.”
“I still can’t believe you dated him,” Patrick grumbled, shaking his head.
“He’s smart.”
“So is my Clydesdale back home on the farm.”
Sandra made a face and sipped some more hot chocolate.
“Are you back on the dating scene?”
She put her cup down and stared. ”What are you asking? When was the last time you or Sean dated?” she countered.
“Don’t try to put this conversation back on me. When was the last time you got some?”
Damn! Always brusque. And this wasn’t small talk. Small talk was asking, Do you think this latté is better than the ones back home?
A knot had lain in her stomach since last night. She hadn’t missed the change in his demeanor either. Even though he loved her as a friend and would give her the shirt off his back, he’d always seemed aloof. It wasn’t only toward her; it was his personality. Now, he wanted to be all warm, fuzzy, and flirty.
Nervous, she squirmed a bit in her seat. What a gorgeous man. His profile always made her stop in her tracks and stare in awe. But right now she wanted to stare at something else. Anything else!
“I…uh, never really thought about putting myself back on the market, so to speak.” She played in her hot chocolate with her biscotti. “And as far as getting some, I don’t think that’s any of your business.” She tried to say it in a way that told him she wasn’t in the mood to discuss it any further.
Patrick smirked. “Don’t!”
“Don’t what?”
“Put yourself back on the market. I have a better proposition for you.”
Chapter Nine
Sean was nearly dressed by the time the contractor banged on the door. Before he could open it fully, the man rushed in and started assessing the place.
“Nice setup you have here. I could tell from out front. The landscaping alone is going to cost you a mint.”
Sean sighed. The words “money pit” and “murder” came to mind. Good ol’ Uncle Travis. “Okay, just look the rest of the place over and write me an estimate.”
“Will do.” The man disappeared into the kitchen. “Boy, oh boy!”
Sean grimaced. It would be a good idea to follow the guy around. Just in case. He’d heard enough not-so-good things about contractors to feel justified.
As he watched the little man, he thought about how Patrick wanted to approach Sandra. His friend wanted to put his plan into action right away. They had only three weeks to convince her that loving both of them, and both of them loving her, was the most natural thing on earth. They had already established they shared everything. They liked the same movies. Read the same books. When it came to their jobs, they worked as a unit. They traveled together when time permitted. Hell, since her hiring, the three of them had barely been apart.
But more importantly, they shared feelings. They had been there for each other through life’s ups and downs. So didn’t it seem natural that each of them wanted to be intimate with her as well?
Sean watched the contractor check things off on his little notepad. Maybe he could leave him alone for a bit. He went to Sandra’s bedroom to prepare for later that night. They had decided the best approach would be setting the mood. He hoped Patrick wouldn’t blurt out their intentions without first feeling Sandra out and putting her in the right frame of mind.
He also thought it would be a good idea to approach her one at a time. He had suggested Patrick be with her this morning. His buddy had a calmer, more analytical head. He would be subtle and app
roach her with caution. Besides, Patrick promised him that he would be tactful about it. Sean hoped their plan didn’t backfire on them all.
As time went on, he was rethinking the approaching her one at a time part. He should be there, if only to kick Patrick under the table if he went too far. But he trusted him. Still, Sean started getting a gnawing feeling in his gut.
Okay, calm down. He never lets you down.
He went to his room to collect the items they’d brought with them. He wanted her to love their plan, but if his friend screwed up, Sean wanted the chance to explain.
***
The bartender approached and placed new mugs in front of them. Patrick had ordered another latté for him and a hot chocolate for her. The lifts were still busy, but that didn’t deter Sandra. So they’d continued waiting.
She still hadn’t said anything. Had he sounded too crass? He could hear Sean’s voice in his head. See, you’re too blunt. Whatever.
He wasn’t like Sean. If you want results, get to the point.
“I…uh, don’t understand.” Sandra stared at him with wide-eyed innocence.
“Let me explain. Have you ever considered dating one of us?”
Sandra choked on her cocoa. “Dating one of you guys?”
“Don’t make it sound so terrible.” Patrick took a sip of his fresh latté. “Yes. Trainers date each other all the time. And since you work at the gym too, it wouldn’t be so crazy.”
“Us? Including you? I’m surprised.”
“Why? Oh, okay, I understand. I’m not the big romantic type. But you’d be surprised; I can be cuddly.”
Before he could make his case, hot chocolate splattered over his shirt. “Hey!”
Sandra laughed so hard, tears rolled down her cheeks. “Sorry.” She grabbed a napkin and cleaned him up a bit. “I can’t see you as cuddly.”
Well, ain’t this a bitch. “Okay, okay, it’s not that funny,” he grumbled.
“Oh, Patrick. I don’t know when you guys are kidding me. I’m flattered. But you and I are friends. Even if I care for you that way, I couldn’t date you. How about our mutual friendship with Sean? I would feel awkward.”
Too damn sweet. But that was one of the things he loved about her. She always put others first. But now, he was even more curious about her real take on that article. Was she holding back her true feelings? Did she think about him? Sean? Both of them?
They weren’t crazy when they saw how she’d reacted to that article. She’d tried to blow it off, but she wasn’t kidding anybody. She’d dog-eared the page to the point of it falling apart from use. She had to be thinking about it now, or at least thinking along those lines.
And even though he wasn’t jumping up and down about the idea of being in a ménage a trois, the idea of her thinking of trying that with some other guys made his blood boil. If he could convince Sandra he wasn’t joking about dating, maybe he could make some progress. He calmed down and tried another approach.
“Maybe I’m not your knight in shining armor,” he allowed. “But we could hang out on a more…intimate basis. I guarantee you, Sean wouldn’t mind. In fact, he all but suggested it.”
Sandra put her cup down. “He did?”
“He was saying the other day, he thought we make a great-looking couple.”
“Really?”
“Sure did,” he murmured, behind his coffee cup. He couldn’t look her straight in the eye on that one.
“But aren’t you forgetting one thing?”
“What?”
“How do you know if I feel the same way about you?”
Well, hell. “Don’t you find me somewhat attractive?” he whined, in a playful way.
“Oh, God, you’re gorgeous! You’re a walking org—I mean yes, you’re very pleasant on the eyes.”
She was interested in him. Now how to slip in Sean? “So do you think Sean is gorgeous, too?”
“Wait. I thought this was about you and me. You’re already asking about another man? And Sean, at that. See, this isn’t going to work.” Sandra shook her head and drank her hot chocolate.
Patrick banged his palm on the table.
***
Sean finished up Sandra’s bedroom and went downstairs. He found the contractor waiting for him in the living area with a big, fat grin. That meant money.
“What’s the damage?” Sean reached out for the pile of papers the little punk contractor was holding.
“For starters, there’s the landscaping. Inside, we have to bring the kitchen up to code, and I see a lot of cosmetic damage. Now the fireplaces…you have eight….”
Sean barely heard him as he rattled off all the repairs needed and cosmetic issues he’d found.
His mind was on his friends on the ski slopes. Had Patrick made any headway? They hadn’t decided on what he’d say. That had been the most difficult part. How do you ask someone to participate in a ménage? Sean trusted his buddy. So now he had to sit and wait until they came back.
“So all totaled, my rough estimate is $472,000.”
He shook his head violently and focused on the little man standing next to him. “Excuse me?” He snatched the paper from him.
“Hey, pal, I’m giving you a break here. This joint is over eight-thousand square feet.”
“Jeez.” Sean almost threw the paper back at him.
“Hey, I’m telling ya, you’re not gonna get a better estimate.”
“We’ll see. Thanks for your time, Mister Worm.” Sean gently pushed him toward the door.
“That’s Vorms. It’s Dutch.”
“Whatever.” Sean escorted him out then reached for the phone to call Uncle Travis. The man had some serious explaining to do.
***
“That was da bomb!” Sandra pumped her first in the air.
“You’re still on the slopes, aren’t you?” Patrick chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. The snow had started out as flurries, but once it became hard to see, she’d stopped skiing.
“I am. Too bad you didn’t join me, even at the bottom of the hill. And I hate that this has happened,” she groused, waving toward the snow.
“It’s nearly nightfall anyway. It might stop by tomorrow. And just think, more for you and your skiing comrades.”
“Yeah.”
“So have you thought about what we discussed earlier?” Patrick hoped she’d calmed down.
“You mean me dating you? You were serious?”
“Of course. We have a lot in common. We get along. We practically finish each other’s sentences. I don’t see why not.”
Sandra gave a deep sigh. “I don’t know. It would strain our relationship with Sean.”
“I told you, he’s okay with it. In fact, he practically insists.” That’s a real stretch. But desperate times called for desperate measures. They were almost back at the lodge, and he wasn’t making any headway.
“Insists? How come he’s never talked to me about it?”
“You know Sean. He’s kinda shy. That’s a personal thing, and he didn’t want to be in your personal business.”
“I see. So he recruited you to be all up in my business?”
They stopped at a red light and Patrick looked over at her. Stubborn thing, digging her heels in like that. She was holding back. Somewhere deep down, she had to be thinking about him—both of them. She was too reined in to express it.
Sean had the right idea in coming up here. Maybe, just maybe, Sandra would let her hair down—with a little prodding.
***
Sean heard the car pull up as he fixed dinner, a little of his tension drained. With the snow falling heavier, he’d begun to worry. It hadn’t helped that he’d been unable to reach either of them by cell phone. Then again, reception sucked in the mountains.
He went to the door to greet them. His stomach did back flips. He had no idea how their talk had gone. For all he knew, she’d slapped Patrick and wanted to go home.
Relief washed over him when he heard their laughter coming from the walkwa
y.
“I had a blast!” She said, running into the foyer, knocking Sean on the shoulder.
“I take it the slopes were perfect.” Sean rubbed his shoulder then helped her remove her jacket.
“Fantastic! You should have seen me!” Sandra crouched in skiing position. “I banked to the left, I banked to the right, this hill came up and I leaped and— Ow! Ouch!”
“What’s wrong?” Patrick dropped Sandra’s skis as he entered the house.
Sandra rolled on the floor, wincing. “Charley horse. Help!”
“Patrick, check and see if there’s a first aid kit or some alcohol in one of the medicine cabinets.” Sean kneeled next to her. “An Ace Bandage, too, if there is one. Come here, honey.” He brushed her hand aside before pressing his fingers hard against her calf. All the muscles bunched in a knot. No wonder she’d gone down the way she had. He rhythmically kneaded the resistant flesh then tried to roll up her pant leg without causing any more pain.
Patrick returned with the alcohol. He opened the bottle and poured some in his hand. “Flex your foot toward you.”
“Ow!”
“Okay, forget that for a second. Let me massage it. Come, on baby. How’s it feel now?”
“A little better, but not much. Oooh! This is a bad one.”
“We can’t get a good grip on her leg with her pants and boots on,” Sean murmured. “Let’s pull these off.” He removed her boots, unfastened her pants, and slid them down her legs. When he reached her calves, Sean raised his eyebrows. Patrick simply nodded.
Chapter Ten
Sandra couldn’t believe it. A picture-perfect day spoiled by a damn leg cramp. She rolled around on the floor like a drug addict in a bad movie. It wasn’t until Patrick had her pants at her ankles that she regained her senses. “What are you guys doing?” She tried to sit up straight. “Ow!” Down again. Not good.
“We can’t really massage your calf with these in the way,” Sean tossed her pants aside. “Besides, we have to rub this alcohol in. “Okay, I’m going to lift her and put her on the couch.” Patrick moved out of the way.
Sean scooped her up and settled her on the sofa.
“Ouch! The cramp is worse!”
Cabin Fever Page 5
