“There it is.” I stated, noticing a shoe store down the road. Ivan eased on the brakes, reaching out for his wallet on the dashboard.
“Here.” He murmured, pulling three, hundred-dollar bills out of the wallet. I opened my eyes wide in disbelief, stunned by his gesture. “Don’t give me that look.” He snorted. “Snow boots are pretty expensive. I’m going to go buy some supplies. I’ll see you in a few.”
I opened the door with clumsy fingers, moved by his generosity. He had no idea how much he had already impressed me. Not just due to his manners, but also because of the fact that everyone in Adams seemed to love him. At the same time, it occurred to me what a terrible mistake a relationship with him would be. I wasn’t their sweetheart; they had made it clear to me, right from the start. I was an outsider, a pariah that had barged into their town. What would they do if I dared date their most eligible bachelor? Hang me? Stone me? Chase me out, maybe? I couldn’t tell, but I wouldn’t get in their good graces.
Standing outside the shoe store, I spotted a pair of thick, brown snow boots. The price tag was just outrageous. They cost $220. A swift look around just confirmed what Ivan had told me earlier. Snow boots were ridiculously overpriced. I swallowed my anger and went inside. Under any other circumstances, I would consider trying on five or six pairs before choosing. I had a soft spot for shoes in general, and I had never paid a visit to this place during my stay in Adams. But these were not normal circumstances. I wasn’t shopping around in Cleveland after a hard day’s work. On the contrary, I was hundreds of miles away from home, with someone else’s money in my purse, and I didn’t want to keep that someone waiting. So, I selected the brown boots, paid for them in a hurry and got back outside.
Typically, I felt more than a few pairs of eyes on me while I walked up the street. Much to my pleasure though, there was no honking whatsoever. Those idiots had to have recognized Ivan’s truck, and decided to stop messing with me. No other explanation made sense. This simple fact had me daydreaming again. For the first time in my life, I was feeling protected. Ivan’s presence was like a shield around me, and if it could keep the hordes of idiots away, I had no doubt that it would shelter me from any other harm.
I hadn’t reached his truck yet, when Ivan walked out of the supermarket, holding two, large bags of groceries, in the company of two boys. They were all smiles, whereas he had maintained his firm look. All of a sudden, he slipped some money into their palms, and said he’d be waiting for them.
“Damn!” He exclaimed, his quick footsteps closing the gap between us. “You’re done already? Are you sure you’re a woman?”
“There wasn’t much to choose from.” I shrugged, unwilling to disclose the real reason behind my hastiness. “I don’t mean to pry, but…” I paused. “Why did you give those boys money?”
“Actually, I just hired them.” Ivan explained, assuming a more serious tone. “They need some extra work this holiday season to buy Christmas presents for their family. They’ll be at the tree farm first thing tomorrow morning.”
“No wonder these people love you.” Yes, that’s what I wished to say to him. But, just like earlier, I couldn’t be this blunt to him. Mentioning his brother had annoyed him; I sensed he was just seconds away from yelling at me. Such a personal comment would be the final straw. More than that, the town’s main road wasn’t the place for niceties, especially for an outsider like me. I gave him an awkward smile, comprehending that I had to be patient. It would be hard, yes, but my options were limited.
When we left Adams that day, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him better. Without a doubt, Ivan Peterson was something like a local benefactor, someone who helped out his compatriots, although he didn’t really have to. He didn’t need them, either. He already had the necessary staff, but that didn’t prevent him from hiring those boys. Furthermore, having had a taste of his true power, I couldn’t deny that I wanted more. Much more. Being under his wing was sweet, perhaps sweeter than I had imagined. Now, I had to find the ideal time to have a nice, long conversation with him….
Ivan
That night found Scarlet and I in my office, going over details about delivery schedules. Ever the professional, she insisted on reading my drivers’ profiles. Then, she wanted to know more about them, which was a little weird. Those men were very experienced at what they did, and I had known them for years. Some of them even used to work my father. I let her knock herself out, and snuck a peek out the window. So far, so good. It might have been snowing off and on for a couple of hours, but that was about it. My lawn had lost its usual greenness. It resembled one, large, gray blanket. The lighter branches of the cedar tree on the edge of my property were starting to bend under the weight of snow. There was a mild breeze, certainly not the hurricane winds that everyone was always afraid of. But, if there was one thing I had been taught all these years in the mountain, it was that the situation was going to get much worse. It was just a matter of time.
“Oh…” Scarlet’s gasp of surprise tore the silence. “Marcus Logan has been arrested for DUI. Twice. Did you know about that?”
“2006, New Year’s Eve in New York City, and 2011 in Boston, again on New Year’s Eve.” My response came fast, my gaze still settled on the cedar tree. “Of course I know about it. He’s never been drunk at work, Scarlet. None of my drivers have.”
“How can you be so sure?” She wondered, tossing his resume on the desk.
“I can’t.” I raised my tone, turning to her. “They’re the best-paid drivers in the state. They make thirty percent more than their colleagues. None of them is stupid enough to jeopardize their job. And those merchants are watching them like hawks once they arrive with the cargo. You might find this a little hard to believe, but they send out their own people to inspect the trucks while they’re being unloaded. If they find anything suspicious like, I don’t know, a bottle of whiskey, they report right back to me.”
“You pay them to do that?” Scarlet squinted up at me.
“Oh, hell, no.” I said with a sarcastic grin. “I’d never do that. Merchants are on the lookout for my drivers’ dirt, because they want me to hire their relatives and their loved ones.”
“Unbelievable.” She grumbled, furrowing her brow.
“Let’s call it a night.” I suggested, rising from my seat. “Pretty soon, it’s going to be impossible for me to get out there. I need to go get some more firewood.”
I was a little irritated by her cold approach. Scarlet hadn’t noticed that Marcus Logan had been in my family’s employment since 1998, or if she had, she had just ignored it. To her, those DUI’s were a red flag. Still, the way I saw it, they were nothing. There are some things that city people just can’t grasp, values like loyalty and integrity. Should I tell a business executive from Boston or New York about how much Logan’s twenty years of service meant to me, they would laugh. This wasn’t a big city, though. This was Adams, and we did things our way. Regardless of that, I couldn’t hold this against Scarlet. It wasn’t her fault. She had been raised this way. It was up to me to teach her how to look at resume’s from a whole new perspective.
When I returned to my living room, I had a crate full of firewood and a head filled with snowflakes. I eased the crate down by the fireplace, and then selected some of thinnest twigs. Placing them on top of one another, I created a short pile. I grabbed the lighter from the ledge, catching the sound of Scarlet’s footsteps on the floor.
“I hope you like this better.” She said as the fire roared into life. Intrigued, I turned around, only to discover that she was holding up two sandwiches.
“Sandwiches?” I asked, my surprise sending my voice up an octave.
“Chicken sandwiches.” Scarlet corrected me. “I used the leftovers from last night to make them. I’m sorry, but I’m a little too tired to cook.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I told her, reaching out to take the plate. “What’s Cleveland like when it gets by a blizzard? I’m just curious.” I added, sitting
down beside the small table near the fireplace.
“It depends on the blizzard.” She replied, her voice coming out slower than usual as she seated herself across from me. “Most of them aren’t so bad, but back in 2015, it lasted more than three days. It was pretty chaotic. Big parts of the city were left without electricity for almost twenty-four hours. Four people got stuck in their cars and froze to death.”
“I don’t get it.” I protested, shaking my head in disapproval. “They know about it days, maybe weeks in advance, and they drive around like nothing’s going on? Why won’t they stay in like reasonable people should?”
“That’s the urban lifestyle, Ivan.” Scarlet declared, her lips curling into a smile of bitterness. “They have to go to work. If they can’t, they need to have a very good excuse, otherwise they’re in trouble. To be honest, I almost got killed during that blizzard, too. I had overslept that morning. I floored it on my way to work, but when I ran into traffic, I hit the brakes so hard that my car nearly skidded off the road. That was the scariest moment of my entire life.”
“I’ll bet.” I said on an exhale. “This whole…” I paused. “Rush is the main reason why I’d never consider living in the city. I mean, why does life have to move so fast? Things move along slowly up here. People work for a living; they don’t live to work.”
“Well said.” She praised, flashing me a look of appreciation. “I wouldn’t mind living in Adams if the locals weren’t so nasty to me. I’ve gotten used to the honking, but most of them still look at me like I’m an alien of some sort.”
“They’re just being forward.” I claimed, unable to hold back a chuckle. “And you shouldn’t worry about the way they look at you. They’ll grow on you. You just have to give them some time.”
“So, how’s the sandwich?” Scarlet inquired, her eyes glinting with anticipation. “You still haven’t told me if you like it better than your sandwiches.”
“Are you kidding me?” I giggled, holding what was left of it close to my mouth. “It’s not even a contest. Yours is way better.”
“Thank you.” She chirped, arising to her sexy, 5’6” stature. “God, I’m so tired.” She complained with a sigh. “Have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight.” I muttered, casting one last glance up at her. I watched her stroll away from the living room, eager for my daily dose of her impeccable hips. It was the most I could get from her without risking losing her. Rising to my feet, I went back to my office, seeking something that would help me get that porcelain doll out of my mind. The snow proved to be a valuable ally. I turned on my computer, anxious as to where the blizzard had struck already. I had to see which roads had been closed due to the weather. Also, there would be higher demand in the areas that had been hit the hardest. It was amazing to think that people order more firewood when their survival instinct kicked in. Year after year, history repeated itself. It bothered me that they didn’t plan ahead, but there’s nothing I could do about that.
I spent more than an hour reading reports from New York. The blizzard had even reached Shandaken, up in the Catskills. Happily though, there were no casualties. Most online media rambled on about the damages in each area, such as blackouts and problems caused by landslides, but, after a few minutes, I decided to stop reading them altogether. To me, all that mattered was that the blizzard hadn’t claimed any lives.
I picked up the resume binder from my desk, willing to put it back up into my top drawer, but Scarlet had forgotten to close it.
“Damn you, woman… What are you doing to me?” I thought to myself, reading the name on the resume on top: Marcus Logan. Along with it, came the memory of our conversation earlier. Or better, Scarlet’s posture throughout it. She was sat in a black, leather chair, wearing the usual tight pair of jeans, a red sweater and matching heels. Those pants highlighted her lush legs. To make matters worse, I could even visualize the black nylons around her ankles. And it was this image that had had my blood pumping faster and faster. I didn’t care if she wore stockings or pantyhose. In an instant, I imagined Scarlet leaning back, wrapping her arms around her legs and lifting them up in the air. Smoking hot…
“Why are you still reading Marcus Logan’s resume?” Her feathery voice filled my ears, thankfully before the bulge in my pants grew any bigger. Lost in my thoughts, I had failed to hear her walking in. She stood a few inches on my left.
“I wasn’t.” I claimed, closing the binder. “I was just about to put the binder back in my drawer. What are you doing here?”
“I saw the lights were still on, so, I decided to get back out and help you.” Scarlet maintained, pulling the top drawer open. “What have you been up to?”
“Nothing.” I sighed, rolling my chair backwards. “Go back to bed.” I continued, getting up. For some reason however, she didn’t move a muscle. Instead, she pursed her lips and dropped her gaze from me.
“Ivan, I, um…” She faltered, scratching her wrist. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you.”
I waited for her to go on, my gaze fixed on her gorgeous curls. A short step forward later, her feminine scent rushed into my nostrils. For a brief moment, both of my knees shook. Standing this close to her sent my adrenaline into the ozone layer. I had resisted this amazing woman for far too long. I lifted my hand and tipped her chin up. As I gazed deep down into those hazel eyes, I realized I couldn’t hide from her anymore. Tilting my head down, I slid my hand up her face. I closed my eyes, brushing my lips on hers. I ran my thumb across her cheekbone, locking my mouth with hers as I snaked my free arm around her waist. A short whimper escaped Scarlet, just before she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I pulled her close, eager to drown in her wonderful scent. She squeezed my skin through my sweater, pressing herself into me, sending sparks of electric currents course through me. The fine hairs of my beard scratched her tender skin as I feathered my hand through her hair. I savored its softness, feeling my heart pound like a war drum. But, when I recalled the last time my heart beat like that, my desire for her vanished in the blink of an eye. Ugly memories stormed my mind, taking away the will to hold her in my arms any longer than I already had.
“Damn it, what the hell am I doing…?” I whispered, bending my head down. “We can’t do this, Scarlet.” I added, leaning back.
“Why?” She asked, her voice a soft, almost inaudible whisper, her chest heaving.
“You know why.” I sighed, my gaze shooting up to meet hers. “I hired a bookkeeper, not a mistress.”
“Ivan…”
“I’m sorry.” I interrupted, putting some force in my voice. “I shouldn’t have let this happen. Go back to your room.”
Scarlet jerked back out of my hold, letting out a grunt of annoyance. Her reaction was loud and clear. Still, even though I loved the fact that she was into me, I couldn’t take any pleasure in it. All I could do was squeeze my eyes shut, and wish I could turn back time. That way, I wouldn’t have allowed myself to touch her in the first place. And it was so amazing to taste her sweet mouth, feel her warm breath on my skin, touch her silky hair… I could only hope that she stayed at a safe distance from now on, because if she didn’t, I doubted whether I could resist her again or not…
Scarlet
The wind was raging outside, causing trees to bend and picking up snowflakes from the ground. Yet, after Ivan’s kiss, I wasn’t sure if the hurricane in my heart was stronger. Because that’s what it was. A powerful hurricane. That kiss… Oh, my God. That sexy bastard had had me swooning, he’d made my knees buckle, leaving me powerless and longing for more. I couldn’t wait for him to take me up in his bedroom and do whatever he wanted to me. Still, what he did next ruined our moment and my dream to have him, and not just that night. We couldn’t be together. The excuse was cliché, but what could I say to him? He was much too upset to listen to me, anyway. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. Any attempt to get through to him would be in vain.
When I lay in bed, a painful realization hit me like
a wrecking ball. How the hell were we going to work together for another three weeks or so after what had happened? The word “awkward” wasn’t enough to describe how things would be between us. “Crappy” or “terrible” fitted much better. Even a child could predict how we’d behave around each other. Embarrassment, saying the basics, short replies, no eye contact at all, and always trying to avoid being in the same room. At least, that’s what I was going to do. Mr. Peterson wanted to keep this professional? Fine. I would keep it professional, but if he tried to lead me on again, I’d make sure he regretted it. I might have needed the money, but I still had my self-respect. No one, not even him could treat me like that.
As the hours went by, I got to calm my nerves. Sleeping was still out of the question, but this peace of mind helped me see something I couldn’t see before. Exactly what had Ivan done? He had been a true gentleman, like he had been since the day I’d met him. If anything, I should have been expecting him to end our kiss. I should have known that he wouldn’t take advantage of me. Most men would jump at the opportunity to get me into bed, but not him. Amazingly, by the end of that night, I wasn’t mad at him anymore. He had done the right thing. It hurt me to admit it, but that was the truth and I had to deal with it. I was even a little embarrassed that I kissed him back. A professional like me should have tried to avoid him, but that was easier said than done.
The next day, I found him in his living room, putting on his thick, brown coat. I exhaled hard, dreading the idea of speaking to him first.
“I’m heading out to the tree farm.” Ivan announced. “Please, clean the place up. I won’t be back until tonight.”
Relief washed over me at his words. I’d have the house to myself for the rest of the day, and I didn’t have any bookkeeping to do, either. Going back into his office would be a nightmare. I’d be reliving our kiss for as long as I stayed in there. As I made my way towards the kitchen, I realized that I didn’t have much work to do. Four, dirty plates and five glasses in the sink wouldn’t take more than ten or fifteen minutes to wash.
Trapped with the Mountain Man Page 4
