Goodness, Hope, you overthink. I took a breath. “So, Gabe married Sam after all.” I’d remembered hearing that they’d dated one summer, and then a few years ago, before Gabe ended his home rehabilitation show, he’d fixed up her home. I guessed that’s what brought them together.
“Yep. No surprise there. They have a baby now. Annabelle.” His smile was filled with genuine happiness. “She’s got all of us wrapped around her finger.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. “Congratulations, uncle. What about Nate and Will? They were real ladies’ men if I remember correctly.”
Mitch rolled his eyes as he took a drink of his beer. “Will is a master at it.”
“Are you jealous?”
Mitch’s eyes went dark for a moment, “No.”
“What about Nate?” I asked, wanting to get past whatever I’d said to make him go cold.
“Nate is married.” Mitch shook his head. “Surprised the hell out of all of us, except maybe Gabe. Still, one minute he was playing the field, and the next minute, he was married. Her name is Hallie. She’s really smart and sweet. She’s good for him.”
“I bought some of his stock when he went public,” I admitted.
Mitch grinned. “Is that funding your month-long retreat in the woods?”
“That and good saving strategies.”
“Last I heard from Parker, your folks were well, but you were thinking of making a move. I guess this is it?” Mitch asked.
I studied him, wondering what Parker had told him. It didn’t sound like he’d mentioned my dad’s business troubles. Well, I wasn’t going to tell him either.
“Yes. I’m ready to make a change.”
The silence in the room was broken when his dog came up to him. “Hey there, Duke.” Mitch patted him.
“Do you worry about becoming a cliché living in the woods with your dog?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It beats the cliché of the insufferable marriage.”
I flinched at his bitterness. He turned away for a minute. When he turned back, he’d put a smile in place. “Is your room alright?”
I nodded. “It’s beautiful. I can’t believe no one has come to stay in it.”
“It was recently finished.” He took a chew toy his dog brought him and tossed it toward the living area. His dog immediately trotted after it. “Listen, Hope, I was thinking. The chances of your getting a room at the lodge or any hotel in the area this week is going to be pretty slim. Two big events are happening this week.”
My heart dropped, and I looked down at my empty plate. “I can’t believe my reservation was messed up. I guess I’ll be heading home tomorrow.” I could probably leave now. It’s not like it was a long way.
“If you’d like to have your retreat here, you can.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
His dog returned with the toy, which Mitch took and threw again. “I know this is important to you, and I want to help. The guest room is yours if you want it. You won’t be bothered. I’m generally busy, and when I’m not, I’m quiet. This place offers everything the lodge does without the expense.”
“Do you have a spa?”
I meant it as a joke, but Mitch held up his hands. “I’ve been known to give a good massage.”
My brain flitted back to the night he’s touched me with those large hands. I felt heat in my cheeks and hoped I wasn’t blushing.
“Do you do mani-pedi’s too?”
He laughed, and his face was the most relaxed I’d seen it since he’d picked up. “No. You’ll have to go to town for that. But I do cook, and there are great walking trails right out the backdoor if you need to be in nature.”
My mind was telling me I shouldn’t stay here, but I couldn’t think of a good reason not to. Yes, he’d seen me naked and then regretted it, but it was years ago. I’d been so young and naïve. Now we were both thirty, and not a slave to our desires. Not that any desire was happening. We could be rational adults.
He finished his bottle. “You can think about it. If you decide to stay and there’s anything you need, let me know.” He stood. “Duke. Bedtime.”
His dog took off down the other hall off of the living space. Mitch reached over and took my plate.
“I can do that,” I said.
He ignored me and brought the plate into the kitchen.
I sat at the table alone. Mitch was giving me the opportunity to fulfill the whole reason I was in the mountains. I didn’t want to go home where I’d been feeling stifled and crowded.
“I’m heading to bed unless there’s anything you need,” he said as he came back around to this side of the kitchen island.
I stood. “I think I’d like to stay.”
He cocked his head like he was surprised, but then he smiled. “Good. Then I’ll see you in the morning.”
Mitch—Setting the Record Straight
Mitch
I lay in bed that night feeling strange. I couldn’t pinpoint the actual emotions I was feeling. It had been nine years since I’d seen Hope, which in some ways was a lifetime. It was, in fact, nearly one-third of my life. But that time on the river was fresh in my mind like it was yesterday. I could remember the flirty sweetness of her smile, the lushness of her body as she went into the river, and the way her skin sparkled in the moonlight when she’d emerged from the water. And then there was how she felt in my arms. Her skin had been soft, her lips sweet, and her pussy was so tight, a part of me wondered if she’d been a virgin.
God, I hoped not. It was bad enough that my guilt made me not handle the situation right. If she’d been a virgin too, I’d deserve to go to hell.
Over the years, I didn’t see her, and I couldn’t help but think that was on purpose on her part. I couldn’t blame her. I’d hurt her, and I hated myself for it. She’d deserved better. A part of me wished I could have done better. I would have enjoyed dating her, but Parker would have probably kicked my ass.
But I never forgot that night. Even as I moved on, and met other women, there were times I thought of Hope. Heaven help me, but the night I asked Gwen to marry me on the beach in the Outer Banks, and later when we made love, Hope’s face was the vision in my head when I came. Guilt about killed me then too. I’d chalked it up to being along the water. Then again, maybe it was fate telling me to get as far away from Gwen, as fast as I could. I wished I had.
I rolled over, not wanting Gwen in my head while I was going to sleep. Instead, I wondered about Hope. Should I apologize for nine years ago or just let it go? She was friendly this evening, but I’d seen the hesitation and wariness in her eyes. If there was a hotel available, she’d be there in a minute, that I was sure of.
Duke thrashed a little bit over in his pillow. I smiled, wondering what he was chasing in his sleep. Deciding there was no sense in rehashing my history, I closed my eyes and willed sleep to come.
The next morning, my eyes popped open just as the sun’s rays peeked into my room. I always had to set an alarm to wake up on time in the morning. I’d been more of a night owl. But since retiring and moving to the mountains, I didn’t need an alarm, and yet I always woke up early.
I slipped on my running shorts and shoes and then headed out to the kitchen with Duke close behind. I gave him a dog treat, and then we headed outside for my regular morning run. I wasn’t sure how late Hope would sleep, so I decided to keep my run relatively short. I was thinking around five to seven miles.
“Come on, Duke.” Together we took the trail that wound through the woods of the Blue Ridge. Animals made some parts of the trail, others were historic having been made by settlers or moonshiners, and other parts were made for tourists and outdoors people to enjoy the beauty of the area. Thinking of history made me wonder if Hope would have any interest in the Pioneer Festival or perhaps the Foodie Festival.
Nah. She was here to work.
A little over thirty minutes later, I arrived back at my place and entered the gym that was connected to the backside of my home. I grabbed water f
rom the mini-fridge, and then I did a few resistance exercises. One thing I learned when I retired was that there were a lot of hours in the day to fill up. Sure, the first few weeks were awesome catching up on sleep and binge-watching TV shows. But it got old fast. Plus, I started to get soft in the middle.
Now I had a specific morning routine that included exercise, reading, journaling, and often meditating. I always had some project I was working on so that every day, I had a reason to get out of bed. Today that project was Hope, or more accurately her car, and getting her settled with anything she needed to work.
When I finished with my workout, I headed into the main house. I went to the kitchen to start the coffee and then grabbed my phone to call Eddie the mechanic.
“Mitch, what’s up? Ready to sell that motorcycle yet.”
I laughed. It was a long running joke that Eddie coveted my bike. “Not yet.” Not ever, I thought. There was nothing quite like riding along the skyline ridge on a motorcycle. “I’ve got a friend whose car broke down at the Crawford turnout. I was hoping you could tow it and fix it.”
“What is it?”
Did it matter? “It’s a sedan…” I couldn’t remember the make or model.
“Lexus.”
I turned to Hope’s voice, and my breath caught in my lungs. Her hair was in a messy bun. She didn't have on any makeup, and she wore leggings and a t-shirt. Why that made her stunning, I didn’t know.
I turned away so I could speak. “Lexus,” I told Eddie.
“Yeah, I’ll go get it. Do you know what happened?”
I covered the mouthpiece and turned toward her again. “What happened?”
“Everything died.” She saw the coffee and pointed.
I nodded and pointed to where I kept the mugs. “While you were driving or had you parked and couldn’t start it?”
“While I was driving.” She pulled out a coffee mug and poured herself a cup.
“It died while driving,” I told Eddie, moving out of her way because her scent, something close to honeysuckle, filled my nose and fogged my brain.
“Maybe the alternator,” Eddie said.
“So you’ll get it?” I asked.
“Yep. On it now. I’ll call you later.”
“Thanks, Eddie.”
“You’ll come to the Foodie Festival, right? Janis has her famous jams.” Eddie’s wife was a foodie’s dream come true. I’d yet to have anything she made, whether it was her jams, breads, pickled preserves…didn’t matter, it was all excellent. She’d been one of the people I’d learned from during my cooking phase.
“I’ll be by at some point,” I said. Taking a breath to prepare my body for the reaction of looking at Hope, I turned. “He says he’s on it. He’ll call us later.”
She’d taken her mug and sat at the table. Her gaze moved from my face, downward, and then up again. I realized I didn’t have a shirt on. On the one hand, I felt a little naked and worried she’d think I was trying to seduce her. On the other hand, I hoped that the flash of heat in her eyes meant she liked what she saw.
“Duke and I take a run every morning,” I said by way of explanation.
“Rain or shine?”
“Usually. Not during the snow. During snow, we might hike though.”
“I was thinking last night about how someone who retired at twenty-seven would spend his days.”
She’d been thinking of me last night. “It was easy the first week. After that, it got boring. But I find ways to fill it.” I poured a cup of coffee and then went to the laundry room and grabbed a shirt. I slipped it on and then joined her at the table.
“Do you do any work?”
“You mean for pay?” I asked, sipping the hot brew. Living in the mountains, I’d learned to appreciate the small things. A sunrise and great coffee were two of my favorite things.
Hope nodded, sitting back in her chair.
“I do a little consulting. Depending on who it’s for, I might get paid.”
She cocked her head to the side. “So you volunteer some?”
“Yes.”
“Parkers fancy system in his office.”
I laughed. “That was barter. He gave me some legal advice.”
“So how do you decide who gets free and who pays.”
I shrugged, wondering why she was interested. “Depends. Poor school districts get free, rich lawyers pay, except for Parker.”
She studied me over her coffee. “Do you ever get bored or lonely.”
Her question felt too personal like she was looking into my soul. Unable to handle it, I stood up and went to the fridge. “Sometimes, but I have Duke to keep me company.” Opening the fridge, I asked, “Do you want eggs and bacon again for breakfast?”
“I don’t need a big breakfast. Coffee is fine. Also, if I’m going to stay, I feel like there should be some…parameters.”
“Sure,” I said as I pulled out the eggs. I suspected the parameters were no touching, which was fine. Sure, I was attracted to her, but she was still Parker’s sister. That part hadn’t changed. I pulled a bowl from the cupboard and started breaking eggs.
Duke barked, and I remembered I hadn’t fed him. “Alright, buddy.”
“Can I help with something?” Hope asked.
“No, thanks.” I pulled Duke’s bag of dog food out from the laundry area and grabbed his bowl. When I returned, Hope was breaking eggs into the bowl.
“How many? Three? Four?”
“Four,” I said. I got Duke fed, and then went back to the eggs. Hope had stirred them but then stepped away when I moved back to finish.
“As I was saying.” She leaned against the counter next to me. There was something domestic and nice about it.
“If you’re worried about any hanky panky—”
She laughed. I smiled at her reaction, even though I felt offended. “What?”
“I was going to talk more about paying my way for food and things.”
My cheeks felt hot with embarrassment.
“I know there won’t be any hanky panky. You didn’t like it so much the last time.”
“What?” I immediately swiveled my head to look at her. “What are you talking about?”
She had an expression like she wished she hadn’t spoken the words out loud. “It was nine years ago, Mitch. We were kids.”
“We were old enough to fuck on a riverbank.” I immediately winced at my choice of words. She did too. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be crude.”
She shrugged. “The point is, it was a long time ago.”
“But you seem to think I didn’t like it. That’s not what happened.”
She waved a hand and started to walk away. I reached out and wrapped my hand around her wrist to stop her. Her skin was warm and soft, and zing of electricity traveled up my arm.
“You regretted it,” she said.
I sighed. “Hope, I regretted betraying my best friend. You’re his sister. He wouldn’t like that I touched you.”
She tugged her arm back, and I let her go.
“But just because I regretted betraying my friend doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it because I did, Hope. I enjoyed it a lot.”
“Mitch.” Her eyes implored me to stop.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you, especially if you had the impression, I was disappointed.”
“As I said, it was a long time ago.”
Annoyed, I put my stirring fork down. “And yet I still conjure that night up when I’m feeling lonely.” I tried to avoid being vulgar that time and had to hope she understood that I meant I jerked off to the memory of her.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“I’m not hitting on you, Hope,” I said, wanting her to know she was safe around me. “But if you think I didn’t get off that night, you’ve been wrong for nine years.”
She stared at me, and I desperately wanted to know what she was thinking. Finally, she said, “Thank you for letting me know that.”
I nodded and then picked up my fork to resume makin
g my eggs.
“I’m going to get dressed,” she said, turning to head back to the extension.
“There are towels in the bathroom,” I said, trying not to think of her naked in the shower or wrapped in one of the plush towels.
My goal in life since retiring was to live with less stress, angst, and drama. But I was beginning to think that inviting Hope in my house was going to blow that all to smithereens. She was a smart, beautiful woman that I’d cared for and coveted for a long time. Being in proximity to her was going to bring that all back. I had to hope that continuing to take care of my own needs in the privacy of the shower would be enough to satisfy the growing need to touch her again.
Hope—Happy Sally and S’mores
Hope
I couldn’t get into my room fast enough. I rushed into the bathroom, turned the water on cold, and then got under the spray dousing the incredible flame burning for Mitch. Oh, my God. When I saw him in the kitchen without his shirt, I thought I might have started drooling. His pecs were larger, and one of them housed a new tat of a dove with a date on it that made me wonder if it was in honor of his father. His six-pack was now eight. His legs were lean yet strong. I had a nearly uncontrollable desire to yank his running shorts down just so I could see him in the buff. Michelangelo’s David had nothing on Mitch.
What really fried my brain and incinerated my insides was when he said, “I still conjure that night up when I’m feeling lonely.” I was pretty sure he was telling me that he masturbated to the memory of us that summer. I had an image of Mitch, big and strong, stroking himself in the shower. I turned my face into the shower spray to wash that image away. I couldn’t be thinking about such things.
When I finished my shower and got dressed, I assessed the room, willing myself to focus on my work. The living area had good light, but the desk was at the opposite side of the room. Hoping he wouldn’t mind my moving it, I pulled it toward the window. Then I pulled out my computer and sketch pad, setting them on the desk. I sat down and struggled with where to start. I needed sketches of the clothes I wanted to design as that was the crux of my business, but I also needed a business plan, financial assessments, and research. I decided on sketching, feeling like I was putting off essential tasks, but wanting the creative outlet to help settle my nerves.
Her Mountain Hero Page 4
