Chapter 14
fourteen
PETER
My grandmother once used the word trifling to describe my brother and me. I’m beginning to understand what she meant. Geneva is nothing if she’s not trifling.
I worried that her nightmares would come back last night. They must have, because she climbed into bed with me in the wee hours of the morning. Apparently, we’re now sleeping together, just not “sleeping” together.
She was already gone when I woke up this morning. I found her sipping on a coffee near the windows in the restaurant downstairs. After everything, she still stares at the view like it takes her breath away. I slide into the seat across from her.
“Look who finally dragged himself out. I thought you’d decided to become a gentleman of leisure,” she says. Her eyes twinkle with a spark of her usual mischief.
“My bed got cold,” I say.
“Hmmm. I bet we can think of something to heat it back up,” she purrs.
“Behave.” I smile. It’s nice to see Geneva feeling her oats again. “How’s the head?”
“As hard as ever.” She holds up two fingers to a passing waitress. A steaming cup of coffee is placed in front of me. I order breakfast before she hurries back toward the kitchen.
“No headache?”
“Only the one sitting across from me.” She winks at me over the rim of her cup. “What are we doing today?”
“What would you like to do?” I ask.
“Honestly?”
“Always.”
“I think I’d like to leave.”
“Do you feel good enough?” I study her face. Do I see the effects of a concussion? I should argue that we need another day to recover.
“I just think the nightmares won’t leave until I move on,” she says. “I love it here, but I’m ready to go.”
“Okay.” I can’t argue with that. The nightmare she had in the hospital almost undid me. By the time I realized what was happening, she was terrified. All she’ll tell me is they involve drowning. “I wish I hadn’t booked rafting.”
“I don’t. It was beautiful and freeing and something I wouldn’t have passed up regardless of what happened. Accidents are going to happen no matter what we do.” She stares out the window again. “I wouldn’t take back one second of this trip.”
“Not even the couple’s message?”
“Especially not that,” she says with a laugh. “It was worth every second listening to him scold you when you squealed over your glutes. Even a drunk, topless kiss was worth it. I just wish I could remember it.”
“I’ll draw you a picture when I have time,” I tease.
“Would you? Be sure it’s suitable for framing. I’ll put it in my new office.”
“I’m sure your brother will appreciate that.”
“We can only hope he’s brutally scandalized,” she drawls.
We finish our breakfast and head back upstairs to pack. I was able to slide our room in Santa Fe a day early. It’ll be dinnertime by the time we arrive, but at least we have a place to stay. I carry our bags downstairs. Geneva disappears in the gift shop while I check out. She meets me by the SUV with a sack.
“Guess what they had?” she asks, pulling more magazines out of the bag.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, we have a long drive.” She opens the first one as I pull away from the hotel. “Let’s see, what do we want to start with? We already know you don’t have a type and you’re good in bed. Though you admitted that the first time wasn’t so great.” She flips several more pages. “Here we go. Is he marriage material?”
I groan. When I planned this trip, I envisioned her spending hours reading in the car. Or at least working on a crossword puzzle. Never would I have thought we would play twenty questions about my love life. I should have bought that license plate game I saw in the toy section for her.
“Question one. What’s his job situation and income?” She raises an eyebrow at me.
“You know exactly what my income was. Now it’s nonexistent, and the job prospects are iffy at best. I’m just hoping my two partners can pull their weight this time.”
“Not nice,” she says, hitting me on the arm with the magazine. “You know you’re going to be just as wildly successful as always. Rand said he’s already getting contacted by several prospects wanting you to work on their projects.”
“They’re probably just after my sexy business partner,” I tease. “You’re not too bad either.”
“Question two,” she continues, glaring at me. “What does he do when you take him to a family event? Lord, that’s a loaded question.”
“I’ve always behaved around your family. Well, for the most part. There was that time I convinced your brother to streak across campus with the rest of the team. Oh, and that time I called your dad an asshole to his face. Hey, but your mother likes me.”
“Did she ever flirt with you?” she asks.
“No. Why?” There’s no way Rose Randolph would ever be inappropriate with a minor. Even as an adult, she barely acknowledges my existence. That doesn’t stop me from teasing Geneva though. “Wait, you mean I could have had mother and daughter? At the same time?”
“Keep it up and I’ll have you pull this vehicle over. You can walk the rest of the way.” Her eyebrow cocks at me again. At least I know she’s not lying to me about her head. Geneva with a headache is less teasing and more stabby. “Does he rely on you when he needs help?”
“All the time.”
“He never needs help,” she exclaims at the same time.
“What do you mean? I need help sometimes,” I insist.
“Name once.”
“You rubbed the aches out after Yosemite.”
“Yes I did,” she says. “Damn, that ass.”
“What about when you flew all the way to Virginia for my grandmother’s funeral? My ass wasn’t involved that time.”
“In my world, your ass is always involved,” she quips. “But I knew how close you were to your grandmother. I couldn’t imagine not being there.”
“It meant a lot.” She smiles. That weekend was the first time I realized there was more to her than she let the world see. She missed two days of college classes just so I’d know she cared.
“Does he do what he can to make your life easier?” She rolls her eyes. “Ummm, how about convincing me to go into business together, helping pack my apartment, carrying me down a mountain on his back, and sitting on the back of a horse for hours so I don’t have to be uncomfortable?”
I don’t know how to respond. Of course, I do what I can to make her life easier. I’ve even gone so far as buying tampons to drop off on the way by. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t?
Certainly not the one David and Tricia Winsloe raised. My dad taught me everything I needed to know about how to treat a woman. At least the ones I didn’t use as a one-night stand. He doted on my mom at every turn. Tim and I learned through example.
“Can he stay calm in a crisis? Seriously? He pulled me from a raging river before I drowned. How much more of a crisis do we need?”
“It was instinct.”
“Fucking good instincts, I say,” she points out. “Has he cooked you dinner? About every night.”
“I like to cook.” I’m not sure why I’m defending myself. I like cooking for Geneva. She’s the only person I ever cook for. Not even Rand gets my french toast.
“Well, I love your cooking. So, win-win. Can he handle conflict?” She studies me closely. “I think he handles conflict like a hostage negotiator. As a matter of fact, he should probably yell more before he develops an ulcer.”
“Do you want me to start yelling at you?”
“Only if it includes apology sex after,” she says.
“Who’s apologizing?”
“You, of course. I never do anything that needs apologizing for.”
“Mmmm.” I can think of a time or two that an apology would have been nice. She once knocked me down the fucking stairs at work with a hip bump. I guess she made sure I was still living before stalking off.
She also announced at the dinner table when we were kids that I was obviously inbred since I hailed from the hills of Virginia. My mom is a schoolteacher. My dad is a hospital administrator. We’re not inbred. I don’t even know anyone who is.
“Last question. Are you compatible in bed? Well, that’s a shame. We almost had our answer.” She cuts her eyes at me. “I guess now we’ll never know.”
“Are you trying to bait me?” There’s no question we’ll be compatible in bed. “What do you want me to do to you in bed?” That came out wrong, but I am curious.
“Let’s see. The choking thing you did last night was nice,” she says. “Biting and spanking are still on the table. Some bondage should do the trick. How are your knot-tying skills, Boy Scout?”
“You’re just trying to get a rise out of me.” She takes a slow perusal down my body until her gaze reaches my lap.
“Looks like I already have.”
I can feel my face flame bright red. You’d think it wouldn’t embarrass me anymore. The fact she can turn me on just by speaking isn’t exactly a secret.
“Just sit there and read your book,” I mumble, and she laughs. But she has pity on me and pulls her book from her door pocket.
“Do you want me to read out loud to keep you awake?”
“Is it one of your banned romances?”
“Of course.”
“Then, no thank you. My jeans are tight enough as it is.”
She laughs again. Opening her book, she settles in to read.
There’s a small smile on her mouth. Thankfully, the near-drowning hasn’t seemed to have affected her too much.
I don’t understand why she can’t see how strong she is. Not many people can come away from that without suffering adverse effects. She seems to have just chalked it up to another life experience.
It’s dark by the time we pull into Santa Fe, New Mexico. I don’t know what it is about this town, but I’ve always loved it. One of the first projects Rand and I worked on was here. I got to know my way around pretty well in the weeks I spent working. The hotel I chose sits right in the city center. We’ll be able to walk to everything.
“This is lovely,” she says as we pull into one of the historic hotels.
“Let’s check in,” I say. “Then we’ll find somewhere to eat we can walk to.”
“That sounds perfect. I’m ready to stretch my legs.”
We climb out of the SUV. I grab our bags while she collects our coats. It’s turned cold here. The check-in process is easy. We’re shown to our suite in record time. Leaving our bags, we walk back down to the lobby. After getting several recommendations for dinner, we head out.
“Ohhh, it feels good to get out of your car for a while. What are you thinking you want to eat?” she asks.
“Southwest. What else?” She loops her arm through mine as I steer her across the street. “I haven’t had a good bowl of posole in a long time.”
“I’m on board as long as it heats me up.”
I pull her against my body to keep her warm. My arm drapes around her shoulders. She doesn’t elbow me in the ribs like she would have just a week ago. Instead, her arm wraps around my waist.
I’m tempted to lead us around town for a while just so I don’t have to let her go. She’s cold though, so I lead us just one more block to the restaurant. We’re led to a table.
“What’s the plan tomorrow?” she asks once we’re seated.
“You wanted to shop. Art, jewelry, clothes, anything you want.”
“Careful, Peter. You’ll make me come with all that foreplay.”
“I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”
“Umm,” a waiter who can’t be out of high school says. “I’ll come back.” He skitters off like he’s on fire. I’m not sure we’ll see him again tonight.
“Peter Winsloe,” she chides. “You really should learn to behave.”
“If I don’t, will you spank me later?”
“Don’t make offers you can’t keep.”
“Oh god,” the waiter says next to our table. So he did come back. We can’t help it; we burst out laughing. Now we’re scandalizing the next generation. Does that mean we’ve moved up?
I watch as Geneva placates him by placing a drink order. She winks at me, and all I want to do is yell how much I love this woman. I’m in trouble.