by Lori Ryan
What man falls down dead from a heart attack at fifty-five? A man who’d been a workaholic, like his father, that’s who. His family should have seen this coming all along.
Ben was one to talk. Despite trying to become the opposite of his father, he often pulled eighty-hour work weeks. He’d always said he’d slow down once his fledgling company got up and running. Sumner Integrated Software Solutions had been “up and running” and very successful for over ten years now. If Ben were being honest, he’d admit he’d been trying to prove something to someone. Someone who was nothing more than a ghost now.
The kick of pride he always felt when he thought about his company felt hollow at the moment.
“Fine,” his mother relented, rolling her eyes. She stepped closer to Ben. “But let me make one thing clear. You’ll be working under Maggie.”
“Under,” Grant laughed.
Ben froze. Work under Maggie? Never mind that he hadn’t worked under anyone since high school, his mother’s phrasing had sent his mind on a wholly different path. Visions of Maggie under him had his body reacting in ways he didn’t need his mother or brothers seeing. Shit.
His mother glanced at her youngest. “What did you say, Grant?”
“Uh, nothing, Ma” Grant mumbled.
His mother raised a brow and glared at Grant before returning her menacing gaze on Ben. “Maggie runs this lodge by my side, she knows the business inside and out. I won’t have you bulldozing over her, thinking you know what’s best. This time you don’t, Ben.”
Ben studied his mother. When had she become so strong, so sure of herself in business?
“Nor will I have you upsetting her,” his mother continued. “Maggie is like a daughter to me and she’s been with me for a long time.”
The insinuation wasn’t lost on Ben. Maggie had been here when he and his brothers hadn’t. He bristled at the idea of working under Maggie’s supervision.
Whether she knew it or not, his mother needed someone who could do some serious assessing of the business. The lodge needed someone who wasn’t emotionally invested, someone who could tear apart the books, make hard decisions about down-sizing personnel and possibly halting construction on further expansion. Maggie Lawrence wasn’t that person.
Ben would assess the figures in the morning and see what could be cut. The cabin build-outs and barn renovations weren’t too far along in construction. He’d need to decide if they were truly necessary. Maybe it wasn’t too late to stop some of his parents’ ludicrous pipedreams. If that meant sucking it up and working with Maggie for a few months, he could do it.
Ben sighed. “I’ll make it right with Maggie, Ma.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I promise.”
His mother glanced around at his brothers, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Your father was so proud of all you boys. I know he didn’t always show it but—” Her voice broke and she covered her mouth.
Ben wasn’t one hundred percent convinced her words were true, but it didn’t matter. His mother was hurting and there was nothing he and his brothers wouldn’t do to protect her. Even if it meant facing his past and coming home.
Chapter Six
Maggie moved through the common area of the main lodge, the natural elements of the interior calming her restless heart.
John Sumner had been a preeminent architect in his professional days and he’d brought his love for structure to his design of the lodge. He’d painstakingly incorporated the very essence of the elements that made Colorado and their corner of it so special. Guests often commented that walking through the lobby and into the main room felt like stepping back outdoors.
Per John’s instructions, the construction crew had been meticulous about salvaging wood from the trees they’d had to clear for the expansion to turn into wide wooden planks for the flooring.
Just inside the massive front doors of the lodge sat two hand-carved wooden benches, designed by their contractor, Shawn Braddock, a master wood-crafter in his own right. The reception desk was one of a kind, constructed with natural pine that retained some of its original bark around the out-skirting.
Guests always seemed drawn to the great room. Glancing around the lodge, it wasn’t hard to see why. John and Valerie had created a welcoming space. Since their sons had yet to produce any grandchildren, the couple had joked that the rebuild was their “grandbaby.” With John’s architectural background and the award-winning interior design team they hired, the result had been stunning.
The large stone fireplace and soft leather couches invited people to sit and visit for a while. Intricately designed rafters of honey-colored pine stretched the expanse of the cathedral ceiling and supported two huge wagon-wheel chandeliers.
When Maggie had first heard the design team planned to use wagon wheels they’d salvaged from the abandoned barn to use as lighting, she’d thought they were crazy. She expected it to look tacky and over-the-top. But somehow the team had brought it all together. The effect was magical and stunning, a space she could get lost in, and often did.
She stared out of the picturesque windows on either side of the fireplace. The sweeping views of Canyon Creek Mountain were breathtaking. The snow sparkled under the last rays of the setting sun. The blue skies darkened to a deep purple as the sun escaped behind the peaks, leaving a chill in the late winter air.
This mountain and the land Valerie and John owned held the potential to become so much more for the community. The rebuild offered the small community job opportunities and business ventures they’d desperately needed for years.
Valerie’s excitement over her long-term vision had not only convinced Maggie and John that the reward was worth the risk, but the bank, too. The expansion was a bold and strategic move, if you had the guts to try. And Valerie did. Maggie and John were along for the ride. Or had been until John died.
Believing in your dreams is a choice, Maggie. You must decide to see the potential in spite of the risks if you ever want to achieve them. Valerie’s words floated through Maggie’s mind.
She knew the brothers had objected to the plan from the start. Valerie hadn’t told her directly, but she’d gathered as much from snippets of phone calls she’d overheard. Whenever Valerie shared an exciting piece of news about the expansion, the result was the same. The phone call was wrapped up quickly in the face of criticism and questioning.
There was no way she would let them—scratch that. There was no way she was going to let Ben Sumner walk in and destroy all they’d done here.
“Maggie,” someone called.
She glanced behind her, scanning the great room of the lodge. She spotted Sally and Lisa Sumner, Valerie’s sisters-in-law, but also her best friends and soulmates. The Sumner boys’ absence from the funeral reception at Valerie’s house had obviously pulled them toward the lodge as well.
Sally was John’s sister, married and divorced years ago. Lisa was married to John’s younger brother, Mark. The three women had been close as children, tighter as teens, and then, eventually, sisters, even if by marriage. Maggie would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t envy their close relationship.
Normally bubbly and outgoing, the two women were now huddled together, gaining strength from one another. Sally held out her arm and Maggie walked into the older woman’s embrace. “How’s Valerie doing? I’m worried about my best friend and her brood of angry boys.”
Sally had been the one to send Maggie up to the lodge to check on her nephews. The absence of John’s six sons was becoming a talking point for the locals back at the reception.
“They’re good,” Maggie sighed and smiled tightly. “Just talking for a minute before they come back out.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Sally raised a brow.
“Go easy on her,” Lisa said. “Maggie doesn’t have it in her to lie well, and that’s a good thing. Not everyone is as cynical as you, Sal.”
Sally chuckled. “What can I say? I’m like an old Buick parked under an oak tree full of pigeons. Life
has crapped on me a time or two…or twenty.”
Maggie and Lisa laughed in spite of the somber mood.
“There’s Valerie.” Maggie nodded toward the entryway of the lobby.
Valerie stood, arms wrapped around herself, her face pale and blue eyes welling with tears.
“Oh, shit.” Sally released Maggie and looked at Lisa. “We better go. She doesn’t look good.”
As the sisters walked away, Maggie gritted her teeth, praying the boys hadn’t upset Valerie more.
Just behind Valerie, the boys appeared. Without seeking him out, her eyes locked on Ben. The tension rolled across the room, tangible in its weight. If she kept grinding her teeth like this, she’d crack a tooth.
As if sensing her gaze, Ben’s eyes met hers. His brow wrinkled as he studied Maggie from top to bottom. She couldn’t decide if he was assessing her as friend or foe. It didn’t matter. He and his brothers would be gone soon enough, leaving her and Valerie to deal with the lodge. Maggie just needed to be nice to them while they were here.
Maggie’s shoulders dropped in resignation. She wanted to fight the Sumner men on Valerie’s behalf but she didn’t have it in her. Not today. Days spent at the hospital holding vigil over John after his initial heart attack and then being by Valerie’s side since his death had taken a toll on Maggie.
The brothers slowly dispersed, presumably heading back down to the house. Good. Maybe the community would encourage Ben and his brothers not to do anything rash, like sell the lodge. They had to see how important it was to the whole town. How important it was to her. She wouldn’t let them come in and stomp on her dreams, on Valerie’s dreams.
She glanced around the great room of the lodge, feeling John Sumner’s presence in every minute detail. Even without him, she could still see the potential. She truly believed she and Valerie could still achieve what they’d set out to accomplish. Maggie just had to make the Sumner boys see it, too.
Chapter Seven
Ben sat at a small bistro-style table in the café located inside the lodge, glancing out the large picture window at the mountain. It was surreal, being back in Canyon Creek, especially in the lodge his parents had built just a few months before. Ben had to admit, adding the eatery onsite had been an excellent idea. And stocking the case with Aunt Sally’s bakery items was brilliant. The apple muffin on his plate was every bit as amazing as he remembered from his childhood.
He’d just returned from Seattle after spending three days in his office, preparing his staff to take over in his absence. He still wasn’t prepared to be back in Canyon Creek himself, but he couldn’t walk away from the challenge of making Maggie and his mother understand they needed to make serious changes if this place was going to succeed.
He’d called his mother last night to confirm his arrival and schedule this morning’s meeting. She’d quickly referred him to Maggie, reminding him that he worked under her.
Under Maggie. Ben groaned. He wasn’t a horny pubescent boy any more. What was wrong with him? Business…pure business. That’s why he was here. He needed to forget the fact that Maggie had once been the source of all kinds of high school fantasies for him. They weren’t in high school anymore. Maggie wasn’t on the table.
On the table. Yes, that was definitely one place to have her. One of many.
Ben shook his head to rid the thoughts, then glanced at the folder he’d brought, and sobered. There were several concerns he and Maggie needed to address. Glancing down at his watch he noted she was already fifteen minutes late. Great.
“Who are you waiting for, sailor?” Aunt Sally plopped down on the seat across from him. She placed her cell phone on the table, face up.
Ben groaned, again.
Aunt Sally’s screen glowed with a picture of five men decked out in tight leather pants, ripped T-shirts and long, permed hair that defied the laws of gravity. Ben didn’t need to see their faces to know the photo was likely one of the band Journey, circa 1986.
He could do without Aunt Sally’s penchant for ’80s hair bands. Everyone knew about his mother’s and Aunt Sally’s decades-long feud about which group was better, Bon Jovi or Journey. To Ben and his brothers, both groups were equally heinous. Aunt Lisa’s obsession with Van Halen was just as bad, but she’d never felt the need to defend her choice as vigorously as Sally and his mom.
Regardless of the boy band obsession, Ben still smiled anytime he saw Aunt Sally.
His father’s sister was special to Ben. As a child, Aunt Sally had been his confidant and silent supporter of any crazy idea he had.
Set your beautiful mind to it, Benji, and you can do anything.
It wasn’t just “smoke up his ass,” as Aunt Sally had called it once. No, she truly believed in Ben. And that confidence had given him the courage to leave school and start his computer software business. He knew Aunt Sally wasn’t perfect—she had a mean streak a mile long and the townspeople knew better than to cross her—but she was loyal and brave, two things his family needed now.
“Maybe I’m waiting on you, gorgeous,” Ben winked as he unwrapped the warm muffin.
Aunt Sally waved her hand in the air, dismissing him. “I bet you say that to all the girls in Seattle.”
What girls, he wanted to say. Ben hadn’t been with a woman in months. Sure, he had female friends, friends-with-benefits he called from time to time, but nothing serious. And no one he’d had the time to call lately. Most women he met were needy and clingy, and he had no time for either.
Now his time would be splintered even further. The board of Ben’s company had been pushing him to go public with their stock for months to raise capital for new ventures outside of software technology. Ben might like to expand on what they were working on, but he also liked his company the way it was—not huge but manageable. By him. He wasn’t ready to relinquish control.
Aunt Sally lifted one red-tipped finger and tapped his forehead. “What’s got your mind racing up there, Benji?”
“Benji?” He growled at the mention of his nickname. “Really, Aunt Sally?”
“What? I used to wipe your behind, and now your britches are too big for your Aunt Sally to tease you?” She grinned, reaching out to ruffle his hair. There were times his aunt could sound like an encyclopedia of every cliché ever written.
He ducked his head, escaping her reach. “You know you’re mildly annoying, right?”
She practically beamed as if his statement was a compliment. “If I’m just mildly annoying then I’m doing it wrong.”
Ben laughed. “And you sound like you’re from the 1800s. What’s up with the ‘britches’ comment?”
Aunt Sally shrugged and fell back into her chair. “I guess I’m feeling a little old today. Losing your dad made us all reevaluate our mortality.”
Ben froze, coffee midway to his mouth, at the mention of his father’s passing. He’d always assumed they’d have more time. He frowned and set down his cup. “How’s my mom? I got in late last night and haven’t seen her.”
Sally drew in a deep breath. “She has good moments and bad, like all of us.”
Ben’s heart ached. Her statement described his relationship with his dad. He’d had a few good moments and a lot of bad ones with his dad. But none could be worse than finding out his father had passed away before they could truly make amends.
“Don’t worry, sweetie.” Aunt Sally reached across the table. “Your mom will be fine. She’s stronger than you think. It’s good for her to have you boys home, though. Good for me, too.” She winked.
“Why’s that?” Ben sunk his teeth into the delicious muffin. The woman could bake.
“I’ve got some new recipes I want to try out and I know you and your brothers can never say no to anything your Aunt Sally bakes.”
He nodded before swallowing. “Truer words have never been spoken.”
“And you and the boys will be a big help in finishing the cabins and the remodel of the wedding barn.”
“Yeah, about that.” Ben said.
Sally glanced over his shoulder. “Oops. Here comes trouble on two legs.”
Ben turned to see Maggie half walking, half running toward them, her strong, slender legs eating up the distance between them.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she breathed, nearly slamming into their table. “We’re down two staff members on the housekeeping crew. I had to turn rooms this morning so our guests could check in on time.”
Her chest heaved and her mouth parted as she worked to catch her breath. Tendrils of curly auburn hair clung to her damp face, cheeks reddened from exertion.
Unwanted images of Maggie sitting on top of him, her face looking much like it did now, breasts heaving as he teased her to orgasm flooded his mind. What the fuck? Ben shook himself. He needed to get his head right and focus on the lodge.
“Are you okay?” Sally’s voice deflated his sexual fantasy like a pin prick to a balloon. Jesus, nothing like your aunt to kill your waking wet dream.
When Ben had fantasized about Maggie fifteen years ago, he’d been a clumsy seventeen-year-old, barely able to hold his own dick straight. His only sexual experience had been groping Laney Brubaker inside the athletic equipment shed behind the school.
Now he was older and more experienced. Ben could properly navigate a woman’s body. He knew just how to build a woman’s desire to bring her—and himself—the utmost pleasure. Thinking of the ride he could bring Maggie on had his zipper straining. Shit.
“Ben,” Aunt Sally repeated.
“Um…yeah, I’m fine,” he stuttered, looking anywhere but at Maggie.
“Well, I’ll just leave you two.” Sally stood.
Ben turned just as Maggie slumped down into the chair his aunt had vacated.
“You two kiddos have fun.” Sally nudged Ben’s shoulder.
What the hell did that mean? Ben stared at Maggie.
She stared at Sally, brows knitted, mouth still open.
Mouth. Open. He groaned.
“Don’t forget to show him the gorgeous plans his daddy drew up for the wedding barn.” Sally nodded at Maggie as if the drawings weren’t right in front of him.
