Alaska Reunion

by Jennifer Snow

  He cleared his throat to say something, but his phone ringing through the Bluetooth connection in the vehicle had him immediately reaching for the ignore call button on the dash, his father’s ringtone—the Darth Vader soundtrack from Star Wars—interrupting his attempt at conversation.

  Ellie shot him a look. “Your dad’s not that bad.”

  “There’s quite a resemblance.” His mood quickly spiraled at the intrusion. His father and his family situation and the pressure he was under to make a decision was the last thing he wanted to think about this week.

  “You can answer it.”

  He could. He just didn’t want to. He shook his head. “It’s not important. I know what he wants. It’s always the same thing.”

  Ellie eyed him. “Why don’t you want to go into the family business? You’d be good at it.”

  His jaw tightened. Just because a person could be suited to a particular career didn’t mean they should feel obligated to pursue it. Unfortunately, his family didn’t share that perspective. Doing something for the love of it or out of passion was a foreign concept to his father. He knew Ellie would get it. “Thanks but it’s really not my thing.”

  “Have we established what your thing actually is?”

  Coming from anyone else, he’d find the question irritating, but Ellie could call him out on just about anything and he’d be okay with it. Explaining himself and his choices to her was something he was willing to do. “Can’t it be as simple as working in the bookstore? That’s your thing, right?”

  She shook her head. “No. I mean, not really. I wanted to be a teacher, but life got in the way. I’m making the best of plan B.”

  “Well, maybe the bookstore is my plan A.”

  She turned in the seat to face him, her annoyance over their delay gone as she asked, “What about this mysterious writing talent Mrs. Garnett mentioned at the reunion...is that your thing?”

  If there was ever anyone he’d confess to, it would be Ellie, and right now he felt the need to maybe try to show her that he wasn’t completely without motivation. That he did have a passion for something. That he did have goals for himself and his future. He took a deep breath. “It’s probably the closest thing to my thing, yeah.”

  Curiosity filled her expression. “So you do write?”

  “I dabble in writing.” Lately it was more staring at a blank page. The pressure his father had put on him to make a decision soon had completely messed with his creativity, and he’d struggled with the words all week.

  “What kinds of things?” she asked.

  Was he ready to fully confess? “Creative nonfiction and prose mostly.”

  She looked at him in shock. “You want to be an author?” Unlike any other person who could have found out, Ellie’s reaction to the news was the one anyone hopeful of anything wanted to receive. Intrigue, respect, interest shone on her features for the first time ever when she stared at him now. He’d suspected his secret passion could be something to bring them closer, give them something to potentially bond over, but he’d feared that bond would be friend based, and he’d wanted her to be attracted to him on other levels first.

  But his secret was out now. And it did feel good to tell someone. To tell Ellie.

  He stared at the rain pouring down the windshield and the thick, dark clouds in the afternoon sky. “I know it’s a long shot, but it’s really the only thing I would be able to see myself being happy doing.” The confession felt like a weight lifted from his shoulders.

  “Have you actually written a book?” Ellie asked, kicking off her shoes and tucking her leg under her on the seat.

  “Still working on it. Before, it was just short stories. A full book is proving much more challenging.”

  “What is it about?”

  This was the hardest part. Telling Ellie that he was essentially journaling his upbringing. “Um...it’s mainly about my family—what it was like to grow up with my father, a narcissistic overachiever with impossible standards for us to live up to...” He paused. “And the effects that had on Sean and our entire family unit.” It sounded so lame to him saying it out loud. Everyone had family issues. Why did he think his were special? Or worthy to write about? “It’s more therapeutic than anything else,” he added quickly.

  She looked at him in awe. “That’s so incredible. Why haven’t you told me this before?” Her tone edged on scolding.

  He shrugged. “I haven’t told anyone. Until now.”

  Their gazes met and held for a long moment. Her expression changed from one of casual interest to understanding what this moment meant to him. She was his confidante, the person he trusted with this secret. He longed to tell her the other secrets he’d been keeping to himself. What would she say if he told her right now that he was in love with her? Could he take that chance amidst this craziness they found themselves in? Would she consider giving him a chance or would it only make things even more awkward and complicated between them that week? His heart pounded in his chest as he stared in the light blue eyes he could stare into forever, and his mouth felt dry.

  But before he could decide, she cleared her throat and grinned. “So, when do I get to read something?”

  How’d he know that question was coming?

  “Why don’t we survive this week and then we’ll see,” he said with a wink, the idea of showing Ellie his work making him far more nervous than pretending to pretend to be in love with her for five days.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ARRIVING AT THE cottages long after everyone else, Ellie was desperate to shower and head to the main lodge where everyone was gathered for drinks. They’d wasted far too much time already stranded on the side of the road. Although, it hadn’t exactly been horrible.

  After all, she’d discovered Callum’s secret.

  He really was a writer. It wasn’t just something he’d done in high school. She actually shouldn’t be so surprised. He was a man in his midtwenties from a very wealthy family, and he could be an underwear model, but he was working in a small town bookstore. Obviously his love of literature extended beyond just reading and stocking shelves with old classics.

  As he pulled his SUV into the gravel parking space in front of cottage number four, she unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door before he could even cut the engine. “In a hurry?” he asked, meeting her at the back of the vehicle.

  “Yes. We’re so late. Which may be on brand for you, but I like being on time,” she said, dancing anxiously back and forth. He opened the trunk of the car and she reached for her bag.

  He brushed her hand away and grabbed both of their bags and laptop cases, then slammed the trunk.

  “Be careful, I have books in there,” she said.

  “Of course you do,” he said with a chuckle. “Hope you also remembered to pack clothes.”

  She ignored the teasing as she followed him up the trail toward the door, her neck straining to see the lodge behind it. The lights were on, and she could hear voices and laughter.

  Damn, they’d started without them.

  Was Brent in there? She squinted hard to try to see in through the windows.

  Her body lurched forward as her foot snagged in a tree root extended across the stone steps, and Callum’s arm reached out to prevent her face-plant just in time.

  Heart racing from the near fall, she gulped as he steadied her. “Watch yourself,” he said, his voice slightly husky. His eyes held a slight intensity as they burned into hers, and that same uneasiness she’d felt after his kiss at the reunion enveloped her.

  It was nothing. This whole situation had her on edge, that was all. And she’d nearly taken a spill.

  Ellie removed his arm from around her waist. “You watch yourself,” she said, hiding her embarrassment over her clumsiness and attempting to douse the slight spark simmering between them.

  Callum grinned as he shrugged and p
icked up their bags off the ground. “No problem, next time I’ll let you fall.”

  Ellie sighed with relief as the universe seemed to right itself again with his sarcasm. She moved past him to unlock the cottage door with the key the host had given them at the check-in desk, and pushing the door open, her eyes widened in surprise.

  When Birchwood Cottages claimed to be “high-end” and “luxurious,” they weren’t kidding. From the outside, they looked small and cute, but inside, with the vaulted ceilings and exposed wood beams, the floor-to-ceiling windows allowing the dusk sunlight to shine through and providing a beautiful view of the nature surrounding them, the place looked much bigger. The hardwood floor with a large fake-bearskin rug in front of the small wood-burning fireplace and soft ivory curtains and furniture filled the space. Against the dark stained wood, the contrast was clean and elegant. Not at all “rustic cabin in the woods.”

  But the thing that drew her attention was the queen-size bed in the center of the room...covered in rose petals, a bottle of champagne and a basket of assorted chocolates, with a note that read, “Welcome to the romance cottage.”

  She groaned inwardly. Alisha had obviously told the lodge hosts that they were engaged. This lie was getting out of hand already...though the chocolate definitely wouldn’t go to waste.

  “Wow. That’s...cozy,” Callum said, coming up behind her. He picked up the bottle of champagne and read the label. “This is good stuff. The Wild River Resort bars don’t even stock this particular brand.”

  “Yeah, too bad it’s wasted on us.” Maybe after their staged breakup she could share this chocolate and champagne with...

  Pop!

  The champagne cork hit the wall behind her head, making her jump, and liquid spilled over the side of the bottle.

  Guess they were drinking it now.

  “Want a glass?” Callum asked, reaching for a champagne flute from the basket and pouring some.

  Ellie sighed. “May as well since it’s open.” She glanced around the room, biting her lower lip as she accepted the glass of expensive bubbly from him. “These sleeping arrangements might be tricky.” She wasn’t planning on sleeping with him. She’d hoped they’d get a cabin with two double beds instead. If the bed was bigger and they could build a wall of pillows between them, maybe...but that wouldn’t be possible in this one.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the chaise lounge,” Callum said, nodding toward it in the corner of the room. It was barely five feet long and definitely not wide enough to accommodate his body comfortably, but Ellie wasn’t sure what else to suggest. The Jacuzzi tub, maybe?

  She nodded as she checked her watch. “Okay, I’m going to shower quickly so we can join the others.”

  “Yep,” Callum said, taking a big gulp of champagne and then brushing all the rose petals off the bed and collapsing onto it. “I’ll nap because I doubt I’ll be getting any real sleep on that thing.”

  Ellie carried her champagne into the bathroom and closed the door. The small but modern room had a two-person Jacuzzi, a shower stall, self-flushing toilet with a control panel on the wall and double sinks. Yep, they definitely were not roughing it this week.

  She surveyed the selection of bath soaps, shampoo and conditioner in the basket on the counter and picked out what she needed. Another bottle caught her eye.

  Sensual massage lotion.

  They would definitely not be needing that. Taking it, she hid it in the small drawer that held the hair dryer. She didn’t want Callum getting any crazy ideas.

  * * *

  DRIFTING OFF, IN A STATE of not quite awake and not quite asleep, Callum heard the water turn on in the bathroom.

  Just a door away, Ellie was getting undressed...

  The bed was amazingly comfortable with the soft, down-filled comforter. His head felt heavy against the silk pillowcase, and the sound of Ellie humming off tune seemed to drift farther away. Then he was spinning.

  Or at least the car was. The bear. The rain. The spiraling into the other lane and then coming to a stop at the side of the road. The entire moment out on the highway flashed in his dreamlike state.

  He quit fighting the slumber and allowed the dream to sweep him away.

  Ellie’s eyes were closed. Her hands gripped the fabric of the passenger seat. Her chest was rising and falling in a quick, slightly frantic pace. He could hear her heart beat in time with the patter of rain on the roof. He touched her hand gently and her eyes flew open.

  But instead of fear, there was only attraction in those deep, gorgeous eyes. Lust that called to him and couldn’t be denied.

  He dropped the driver’s seat back and reached for her. Picking her up, he pulled her into his lap. She didn’t resist as she straddled his body and her hands roamed his chest. He gripped her face between his hands and kissed her hard, feeling his body stiffen with the pressure of her body tight against his. Her tongue separated his lips and met his hungrily, desperately, as though she’d been waiting for this moment too.

  His fingers tangled in her soft hair as he deepened the kiss, unable to fully satisfy his craving for her. She tasted like champagne and honeysuckle lip gloss—an intoxicating combination.

  Her hands were unbuckling his jeans, and he raised his hips to allow her to pull the fabric down. She freed his erect cock, and he groaned as her hand wrapped around him. Her gaze met his as she stroked slow and hard, torturing him with the pleasurable sensation.

  He needed her. He needed to be inside of her.

  “Ellie...” It was more of a whispered groan escaping his lips.

  She simply nodded.

  He undid her pants and she shimmied out of them and lowered herself down over him, her wet, tight body taking the length of him deep and slow. Her hands slid beneath his T-shirt and her nails dug into his chest, dragging the length of his body.

  She rode him up and down as she kissed him. He could barely breathe as his orgasm quickly rose and her mouth was relentless against his. Her eagerness and passion had him toppling over the edge in no time at all. He gripped her ass, digging his fingers into her flesh as she pressed her pelvis toward him, as she slowly rode him up and down, clenching her muscles around his cock as she came.

  Her body collapsed against his and their breathing was in perfect synchronicity as he held her close, never wanting to let go.

  The rain on the rooftop of the car sounded real.

  “Callum!”

  He moaned, fighting to hold on to the moment that was fading behind his closed lids.

  “Callum, wake up.” Ellie stood over him as he opened his eyes, and for a brief second he thought maybe it had all been real. Her face hovered above him, framed in an almost angelic glow—a stark contrast to what she’d been doing in his dream.

  “I’m ready. Get up,” she said.

  Yep, definitely just a dream. “Just let me shower quickly,” he said, jumping up off the bed and heading toward the bathroom that still smelled like her perfume and shampoo, still slightly steamed from her shower.

  “Oh my God, are you serious? You’re fine.”

  “Come closer and tell me that,” he said. Six hours in the car in this muggy, wet, humid weather and the sweat pooling on his back now from the sensual dream he’d just had definitely had him smelling slightly rank.

  Ellie wrinkled her nose and nodded. “Okay, but hurry,” she said in annoyance as he closed the bathroom door.

  He turned on the water and stepped inside the streaming spray. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool shower stall wall. His body was still reacting to the dream—his semi-hard-on wasn’t going to be easy to get rid of.

  Damn, somehow he had to make these erotic dreams a reality. And soon.

  * * *

  “CALLUM, COME ON!” Ellie paced in the room twenty minutes later. How long did the guy take to shower? She’d been in and out in fifteen mi
nutes and she’d had to wash her hair and shave her legs. What the hell was he doing in there?

  Alisha had texted to ask where they were and Ellie’s FOMO was reaching an unhealthy level.

  She banged on the door. “Callum!”

  The water shut off. “I’ll be five minutes,” he called through the bathroom door.

  “Why don’t I meet you up there?”

  The bathroom door swung open, and Ellie’s mouth gaped as Callum exited, a far-too-tiny towel wrapped around his waist. The stomach and chest muscles were even more impressive than she’d ever imagined. Not that she imagined her coworker naked at all, but she had wondered what he looked like from time to time, especially when he wore his old, thin, almost threadbare fanfic T-shirts. She was only human after all. The biceps and forearms were muscles on top of muscles, and apparently it was the same throughout his entire body.

  How did one get those shoulder and neck muscles? Were there specific exercises for that?

  Callum’s expression was full-on amusement when her gaze finally got around to his face.

  She flushed and looked away. “Why is your towel so small?”

  “There was only one big one and you used it,” he said, walking across the room toward his bag.

  Ellie desperately wanted to avert her gaze from the shape of his ass in the towel, but her eyes didn’t seem to give a shit about what was best for her, as they were on their own viewing-pleasure mission.

  “Well, please hurry,” she said, checking her watch. She was desperate to join the others but even more desperate to get out of this romantic cottage—which seemed a lot smaller all of a sudden—and not be alone with her sexy-as-hell coworker.

  He’d always been sexy. Why was it only now having an unsettling effect on her? Must be the stress combined with the champagne she’d consumed while he was taking the longest shower in history.

  “Okay.” He dropped the towel, and her eyes widened even further as he stepped into fresh underwear and turned to face her as he pulled them up over his ass. He looked like an underwear model from her teenage magazines. His bulging thigh muscles looked as if they’d been chiseled out of marble, like the statue of a Greek god. How often did the guy work out? “Enjoying the view?” he asked.