by Piper Rayne
“Embarrass you? Since when do I embarrass you?”
See? Why didn’t I think more about her feelings? “Not embarrass, but you tend to hit on every man around and if Denver’s brothers look like him—”
“We know one does,” she says with a twinkle in her eye that puts me on alert.
“Just stick to the single ones, okay?”
“I thought we went over this. I don’t go after taken men. Jeez, Cleo, maybe I shouldn’t go.” She brings her wine glass to her lips.
“That’s not what I meant. I just… look at you.” I point at her entire outfit. “And look at me.”
“You’re wearing leggings and a sweater with boots. You look like we’re going shopping.”
I lift my spiked heeled boots. “These are not shopping attire.”
She shrugs. “Do you want me to change? Would that make you more comfortable?”
I blow out a breath and push her wine closer to her. “No, you look great. Just forget it. I’m nervous.”
She sips her wine and leans back in her stool. “Nervous about seeing Denver?”
“No,” I say as if I’m offended she’d even ask.
“Come on. He’s a hottie, and I know you like him. Every night this week, you’ve come back to the hotel room, and it’s been all Denver this and Denver that.”
“Because we’re working together. That’s all.” I stare at the door of the bar again with the hopes he walks through just to get this evening started so it can end quickly.
“Are you sure it’s not because he knows Griffin Thorne? I saw on your computer that you were looking up articles about the accident.”
I open my mouth then close it. “It’s called curiosity. I wanted to know what happened so that when I meet Griffin on the excursion, I’ll have something to talk to him about.”
She holds up her perfectly manicured hand. “Wait. You’re going too?”
“Yeah, that’s the stipulation from the show. Denver and I have to go on the excursions together with the guests. I think they’re hoping we fight and make for good TV. You know, the more drama, the better.”
“Please, I’m the queen of reality TV viewing. You should watch Bravo. Find out what those people are doing so you can replicate it and make sure your show gets picked up.”
Bridget is a reality show junkie. She can tell you all the info on each housewife and knows every person from the Bachelor franchise and where they are now. Do you know how long it took me to convince her that The Hills was not reality?
This is probably not the best time for me to ask her this, but since I’m staying on her dime here, I kind of need an answer. Bridget tends to live according to whatever she’s into at the moment, and it’s great that she loves Lake Starlight so much right now, but her interest will wane eventually.
“When do you think you’re going back to Dallas?” I ask, my finger following the grain of the wood top bar.
She huffs. “First you tell me not to embarrass you, and now you’re asking when I’m leaving? Way to make a girl feel wanted.”
“No,” I sigh. “I’m asking because when you leave, I’ll need to find a place to stay.” My eyes scour the chandeliers, the million-dollar view of the lake, anything other than her face. “I can’t stay in a hotel for the rest of my time here. I thought I could stay at my dad’s, but…”
I tried to go there the other day and I couldn’t even bring myself to go inside. At some point I need to deal with everything at his house, but until I’m ready, I’ll need somewhere else to stay.
“I’ll charge the suite to my credit card even if I leave. No need to worry.” She shrugs.
I shake my head. “I can’t let you do that.”
She sulks, but ever since we because stepsisters, I’ve made it clear that I might take what she’s offering when we’re together, but I won’t take anything if she’s not with me. “You’re so difficult sometimes. I have to go back next week for my weather girl interview.”
“Oh, right. Are you excited?” With everything going on, I’d completely forgotten.
She smiles. “Sure. We’ll see what happens.”
I shake my head. I guess it’s easy to be laisse faire about how a job interview will turn out when you have a trust fund to fall back on.
She takes me in for a minute, turning somber. “I fear that with you doing all this up here… I’m going to lose you.” Tears well in her eyes.
I place my hand over hers. “You’ll never lose me.”
There’s so much more I want to tell her. About dad’s letter, or that I’ll probably be back in Dallas soon because I’m going to fail, but Denver walks into the bar. He’s wearing jeans, boots, and a skull cap. When he takes it off, a few snowflakes shake off, and he eats up the distance between us with his long strides.
“You guys ready?” His gaze falls over us, and he shakes his head.
“What?” I stand and grab my coat off the back of the chair.
“You do know it’s snowing out?” He eyes outside.
I look too, and the window shows it’s flurrying, but it’s not that bad.
“Aren’t we just going into a vehicle and out of a vehicle?” Bridget asks.
“And the pavement you have to walk on to get to the vehicle is slick,” he says to Bridget as though she’s an idiot.
“Hey,” I say.
Denver shakes his head. He can’t have a problem with Bridget—I figured she was his type. “Sorry, but you girls need to go shopping.”
Once we’ve buttoned our coats, he waves like the gentlemen he is not for us to go first.
“Well, thank you,” Bridget says, and I say nothing. We reach the door and Bridget stops abruptly, staring at the snow accumulating on the ground. “That’s a lot.”
“Eh, not horrible.” Denver opens the passenger door and the back door for us.
“Um…” Bridget stays put right outside the sliding door to the resort.
I walk out and slip on the slick pavement right away, but Denver grabs my elbow before I completely fall on my ass again. He shoots me a look that says, ‘Go shopping and buy some real shoes.’
“Yeah, I’m out. I’ll eat at the restaurant,” Bridget says.
I look at Denver after he gets me upright, and I walk only on the balls of my feet over to her. “Come on. It’s just snow.”
She leans to the side of me, looks behind me, and comes back to face me. “Yeah, no. You two go. Really, I’m good here.”
“Is this about earlier? I didn’t mean anything by what I said.” My shoulders sag.
I could hit my forehead for doing that to her. She gets enough shit from Phil. She doesn’t embarrass me. I mean, other than the time she sneaked into my economics class in college and proceeded to flirt with the TA for the entire class and ended up going back to his apartment with him. For the rest of the semester, he kept asking about her and I had to skirt the topic so he didn’t fail me for saying she had just been into guys with glasses that week.
“It’s not that.” Her body language says she’s telling the truth.
“Then I’ll stay too.”
Denver blows out a breath, and I turn around to give him the evil eye.
“No, you go. I’ll be fine. I have to balance my checkbook anyway.” I tilt my head, and she laughs. “Go. Denver, take her.”
She lightly pushes me, but I’m not prepared and I practically skate into Denver’s arms. Damn, I hate that he’s so strong. He wraps his arm around my waist, and I take the opportunity to smell him.
Bad idea.
“Bridge…” I say, but she’s shaking her head.
“Me and snow no bueno.”
“But there’s been snow here the entire time,” I say.
She points. “Not like that.”
“My family will make you a to-go box and Cleo can bring it back,” Denver says, shutting the back door and holding the passenger door open for me.
“Great, thanks.” Bridget smiles and waves, walking back inside. The doors slide shu
t, and she pulls her phone from her purse.
I climb into Denver’s truck. When my phone vibrates in my purse, I pull out my cell.
Bridget: You can thank me later and I won’t be waiting up for you. ;)
I shake my head as I see her laugh inside the foyer. The girl is unbelievable.
“Let’s get this over with,” Denver says, starting his truck and putting it in drive.
“Maybe I should stay with her.”
I shift my weight toward the door, but his hand lands on my thigh. Big, strong fingers slightly imprint on my inner thigh. I look at them and realize that I’m way too horny for him to be touching me like that.
“G’ma D will kill me if you don’t show up with me.” When I don’t move, he squeezes my thigh once more. “Please.”
I nod and relax in my seat. “I get to pick the music then.”
He removes his hand from my thigh and motions to the radio. “Be my guest.”
And just to piss him off, I hook up my phone to his Bluetooth and play the Spice Girls. Of course I sing along over his grunts and groans. Why do I get so much enjoyment out of his displeasure?
Ten
Cleo
Denver turns down a long driveway surrounded by woods on either side. When the dense forest clears, a beautiful two-story house comes into view.
“It’s stunning,” I whisper—though I’m guessing not too quietly, because Denver turns toward me briefly before parking alongside another truck that reminds me of the ones in Dallas. The expensive trucks with all the extras that never get used. Not that Denver’s truck is bad. It’s not ancient or anything, but it doesn’t have a million bells and whistles. You can tell he uses his truck for more than just driving around.
“This is where I grew up,” Denver says, interrupting my internal comparison between Dallas and Lake Starlight.
“Really?”
He turns off the engine. “Did you envision a shack?”
Before I have a chance to respond, he’s out of the vehicle and grabbing something from behind the driver’s seat. I climb out. Thankfully someone here salted the driveway, so my boots don’t slip too much. Denver holds up a big bag with Lard Have Mercy printed on the side of it.
“What’s that?” I meet him at the back of his truck.
“Pies. Everyone has to bring something and since I don’t cook, I bring dessert. Store bought.”
I glance into the bag. “They look yummy.”
He smiles at me for a moment.
“What?”
“I practically placed the dagger in your hand, and you didn’t throw it.” He grabs my hand and leads us up the driveway.
Again, I concentrate on standing on the balls of my feet. “Why are you being so nice?”
“Because you’re being nice. I’m nice when you’re nice,” he replies quickly, as though it needed no thought.
“I’m being nice because I’m walking into your family’s home. They’re having me over and you’re the only one I know.”
He stops at the bottom of the steps and drops my hand. Snowflakes land on his long eyelashes. Without blinking them away, his gaze remains glued to mine. “You do know Dori, correct?”
“I met her at my grandma’s house a few times back in the day, but I’m surprised she even remembered me. Of course, being splashed on some gossip blog has allowed the majority of this town to refer to me by name.” A smile tips my lips. My grandma passed away well over a decade ago, but the few memories I have of her make me smile.
“She likes you,” he says.
“I like her too.”
His hand lazily runs down my arm and captures my hand again before he leads us up the stairs. “She’s trying to fix us up. Consider yourself warned.”
We don’t reach the door before I pull him to a stop. “What?”
He laughs at my expression, which I have to imagine looks horrified. “She’s been playing matchmaker for a few years now. Pushes one of us siblings toward someone.”
“Why?”
He stares at me, and I notice his eyes crinkle on the sides when he’s deep in thought. Why is it cute? It’s not cute.
“I guess she just wants us to be happy?” He knocks on the door. “I knock to be polite now that Austin lives here with his wife.”
“Yeah, okay.” I’m distracted and still rolling over what he said about Dori’s matchmaking. I hear movement on the other side of the door and my stomach fills with unease.
“Oh, and don’t worry, I’m not settling down any time soon. No matter how hard she tries, you’re in the clear.”
My mouth hangs ajar as the door opens and a dog flies out, jumping like a spaz. I step closer to Denver and the dog follows, sniffing obsessively and pawing at me.
“Myles!” the man in the doorway yells.
“I thought it was only Wyatt he loved so much?” Denver says, trying to barricade me between him and the porch railing, away from the dog.
My boots slide, but I’m thankful for the salt, so I don’t embarrass myself too much by falling on my ass.
“Apparently he’s got something for the rich people,” the man at the door says.
“I’m not rich,” I say.
But they’re both too busy trying to wrangle the dog to pay any attention to me.
“Myles!” a woman inside says calmly. “Treat.”
Myles stops and looks at me as though he’s debating if I’m worth risking his chance for a treat. Thankfully, I’m not, and he jets off inside the house.
“Sorry about that.” The guy sticks out his hand. “Austin.”
I shake his hand. “Cleo.”
“Yep, I know. Welcome to Lake Starlight, where you can’t sneak into town without being mentioned in Buzz Wheel. My wife made her debut there, and so did Harley.” He steps aside.
Denver motions for me to enter ahead of him. I unzip and slide off my boots before placing them next to a bunch of outdoor boots similar to the ones Denver is wearing. Clearly, this is a ‘one thing isn’t like the others’ situation. Denver laughs, putting his boots next to mine, and quirks his eyebrow. Surprisingly though, he keeps his mouth shut.
“I’ll take the pies.” Austin grabs the handle of the bag. “You can show Cleo around and introduce her to everyone. You’re last to arrive, as usual.” Austin walks around a corner.
“Not a very timely guy, huh? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” I say.
“Are we off the polite train so soon?” Denver falls in line with me.
The laughter leaking out of a nearby room nauseates me, and I shrug. “Sorry.”
“I could leave you to the vultures if you’re not careful.” He speeds up and rounds the corner but at the last minute stops.
I run into his back before sliding to his side. All laughter in the room stops.
“What’s everyone’s deal? It’s just Cleo Dawson,” Denver says.
Everyone laughs and rises from where they sit around a large harvest table and rushes over. Denver gets crowded out as everyone introduces themselves.
By the end of it, Savannah, who I remember from the tattoo place, puts a glass of white wine in my hand. “It’s Holly’s staple.”
The tornado of people has me so turned around, I couldn’t put name tags on any of them if I tried.
Denver returns to my side. “Ready to hop on board the polite train again?”
“Please.” I cling to his arm for a second.
“Okay, let’s do this quick and efficient.” He extends his arm and raises his voice. “In the kitchen, the auburn one is Holly, and you met Austin. This is their house. Their delinquent dog Myles was the terror at the front door, and his doggie wife is Daisy. They’re in the mudroom, probably humping because that’s all they see their owners do.”
Austin flips him off, but Holly laughs, waving while pouring a glass of wine.
“Then you have Savannah and Liam, who you met already.”
Savannah’s on Liam’s lap. They drag their attention away from each other to wave to me
.
“Sitting next to them is my twin, Rome, but the uglier version.” Rome flips him off, but Denver says nothing. “His fiancée, Harley.”
A cute brown-haired girl runs over and hugs Denver’s knees.
“And this is their daughter, Calista. The boy stuck in a wrap his entire life is Dion.”
“Uncle Denver?” the little girl asks, her eyes on me.
“Yeah?”
“Is this Wednesday night girl?”
Although she’s hard to understand, I think I caught that one correctly. The laughter from everyone in the room says I did.
Denver glances at me. “This is Cleo. Can you say hello?”
She waves to me. “Do you like ‘Baby Shark’?”
“That annoying song that never seems to stop?” is the response I want to give, but I have manners. “One of my faves.”
Her cute face lights up. “Play it,” she says to Denver.
He pulls out his phone and hands it to her. “It’s all yours, kiddo.” He ruffles her hair, and I swear I just heard my ovaries sigh.
Calista runs off into the family room. Soon I hear the beginning of the song and everyone groans.
“All of our phones are ‘dead,’” Rome says, making quotation marks around the word dead before his forehead hits the table.
“It’s a phase. She’ll grow out of it.” The brunette stands and comes over to me, holding a chubby little baby boy on her hip. “I’m Harley and this little guy is Dion.”
“Hi.”
She detours over to her daughter, dancing on the way but trying to convince her that Uncle Denver needs his phone for emergencies.
Denver’s hand lands on my back and he leans in closer. The fresh smells of soap and man awaken my girly parts. “Phoenix is around here somewhere, and her twin is still in New York, at college. My brother Kingston is on shift in Anchorage right now as a firefighter. Then you have my sister Brooklyn and her husband, Wyatt, who you might recognize from Glacier Point.” He leans closer and whispers, “He’s the owner.” Pointing at me, he yells, “She’s one of your guests, so don’t embarrass yourself tonight.”
