Chapter 5
Blake
I shivered hard, pulling my jacket tighter around my body. My shoes crunched against the gravel walkway as I trudged alone in the dark, gaze trained ahead to keep from tripping over my next step.
The campgrounds had plenty of flood lights around the main parts, but back here by the staff cabins, there wasn’t much aside from the occasional porch light, if someone remembered to leave it on after retiring for the night. I was one of those culprits, unfortunately.
Before leaving my office, I’d neglected to grab one of my flashlights.
I’d had the ridiculous thought of getting back to my own cabin well before the sun set, which of course had been immediately derailed the second I saw Marlow wandering out of the mess hall.
Soon, I was standing in front of him with no idea how the hell my feet had carried me so far before I realized what I was doing, and then the rest was history.
A fucking embarrassing history, at that.
Why the hell I let myself get so damn flustered with him was actually a mystery. It wasn’t like he was being overly explicit. In fact, it seemed rather tame compared to what could’ve probably come out of his mouth given he was still sober and had yet to join the bonfire festivities.
There was no reason for me to suddenly become a blushing bride and run away from what was now, upon reflection, a pretty mild conversation about sex.
It wasn’t like I was a virgin. I’d had plenty of people occupy my bed before.
“You never heard of swingers, Blake?”
My stomach twisted. The way he’d asked that drove me insane. Like getting laid was some kind of competition and he was definitely winning at it.
What did I care?
I didn’t even know this man. I couldn’t even call him a friend, let alone an acquaintance. Letting him get under my skin was stupid, seeing as he wasn’t trying to in the first place.
So what the fuck was wrong with me?
The wrappers in my pocket made a soft crinkling noise as I headed up the short hill and down to the client cabins.
Fucking condoms.
Who asks for that?
Someone with obviously no shame and a whole lot of self-confidence.
Sneaking a handful into my pocket while Kaylee was rattling off my ear on the group of four who came in earlier demanding their own personal first aid box was a testament to how good my poker face could be if the stakes were high enough.
How many condoms did the typical threesome use in a night?
Four?
Five?
A whole sleeve?
Honestly, I was shocked when I found the box after some digging. Tucked back behind the supplies of tissues and Band-Aids, still new and completely untouched.
Even more surprising?
They were still good. Which had me mentally tallying up my entire staff roster on who the culprit was that not only put them on the supplies list to order, but hid the box behind a bunch of shit so no one else knew we had any.
Clearly, I needed to be more diligent in looking over our order list before sending it off to the supplier.
Though, maybe Marlow had a point.
Wasn’t it kind of irresponsible on my part not to have some kind of protection for people to take when needed?
Like he said, adults were going to fuck regardless.
Who was I to hamper them from doing so by holding any sort of contraceptive hostage?
Ugh, I wouldn’t even have to worry about this if he never asked. I could’ve lived in blissful ignorance to what he was getting up to on his second night here.
Two nights in and he’d already found someone to sleep with.
That had to be a record, right?
Established couples didn’t count.
I shouldn’t have been thinking about any of this, anyway. I should’ve been holed up in my office outlining next week’s event. Not walking to Marlow’s cabin well after the sun set.
Coming up onto it, I pulled in a deep breath and climbed the few steps onto his porch, the condoms crinkling once more, mocking me.
I shouldn’t even be here, let alone raising my hand to knock on his fucking door. This was the job of my staff, to run and fetch things for our guests—within reason—, not the director’s. Since he’d arrived on my property, I’d taken it as a personal mission to handle all things Marlow Knight.
And for what?
I raised a hand, poising it over the door to knock. And froze.
The lights were on inside, though there was no movement that I could hear. The curtains were drawn, so that made it hard to tell if anyone was home. I prayed he was alone and wasn’t about to show up half naked, sweaty, and with a blissed out smile on his face when he answered the door.
In fact, it’d be best if he didn’t answer at all. Or I got a fucking clue and turned right around before knocking to begin with.
I’d already made a fool out of myself today, why add to it?
Clearly, Marlow was kidding about the swinging—he had to be. He was all jokes and hardly any bite. Nothing he said should be taken seriously, let alone by me.
Knock, you idiot. The sooner you get this over with, the faster you can go home.
With a surge of gusto, I slammed my fist against his door three times.
Please don’t be here. Please don’t be here.
The night was quiet enough to hear movement through the door, a pounding of feet heading my way with the thumps growing as loud as my heart rate.
The second the knob twisted, I stepped back.
“—yeah, so then I went to... Oh hey!” Marlow tilted the phone from his ear.
There was a soft and subtle chattering from the other end of his phone, though what the other person was saying, I couldn’t really make out. Whatever it was, Marlow snorted and rolled his eyes, then leaned his body weight against the doorframe.
I thumbed a finger over my shoulder. “I can come back if I’m bugging you.”
He shook his head, tilting the phone back to his mouth. “I’ll call you back later. Got a visitor.”
Marlow was dressed still, though not in the same clothes he’d been wearing all day. He had on a pair of gray sweats and a dark colored t-shirt, both of which showed off his athletic build. No signs of sweat or labored breathing, though his hair was wet.
Shower, maybe?
“What’s up?” he asked.
“That thing you asked me about earlier...”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah. You find any?”
For a moment, my mouth refused to move. My hand hovered over my pocket, just breezing over the subtle bulge that could be mistaken for a wallet, a cell phone, and not the fist full of condoms I’d shoved in there like a kid stealing candy behind his health nut mom’s back.
“No,” I lied.
What the fuck?
“Bummer.” Weirdly, he didn’t look all that upset about it.
I forced myself not to look past him and into his cabin to check if he was actually alone in there. “How was the fire?”
“Eh, got a little toasty, so I headed back early.”
Alone?
The word was right on the tip of my tongue, burning. “Gotcha.”
Marlow leaned back from the doorway, nodding his head toward the inside. “Want to come in?”
That familiar ‘danger!’ warning was screaming at me once again.
Not at all working to deter me as one foot was put in front of the other and I was soon crossing the threshold into Marlow’s cabin.
He swung the door shut behind me, smelling faintly of campfire and whatever expensive shampoo he’d used, while he stepped around me and headed over to his kitchenette.
“You want a drink?”
“Think I’m good on my water intake for the day.” I’d forgotten how nice these cabins were.
My granddad had put a lot of time, energy, and money into making them top-notch in quality.
He’d never been one to cut corners and do things the cheap and easy way.
Sourcing the proper material, finding a good contractor and build team, all took plenty of hours that most business owners would turn their noses up at and scoff at for wasting valuable time.
But my granddad believed in things that were worthwhile taking time. As much as needed, so long as at the end of the day, the final result came out better than expected.
I’d always admired that. It was hard to be patient when the world valued a quick turnover. Money was to be made in the fast-paced environment of stocks and corporate profits; case in point, Marlow’s entire career.
I couldn’t even begin to fathom the kind of money that man made given how nonchalant he’d been about this whole wrong-package ordeal.
Barely batting an eye when it came to losing out on a few hundred bucks was eye opening to say the least. I’d taken a peek at his application as soon as I’d gotten back to my office, had gotten one glance at where his residence was, and that had given me all I needed to know.
He was rich, rich.
“Actually—” He pulled the fridge door open, producing two uncapped beer bottles. “I snagged these from the cooler down at the fire.”
I winced.
Drinking with him seemed like a bad idea on more levels than I could count. However, the temptation was certainly there. A beer wouldn’t kill me, could hardly make me any stupider than I already was, running away earlier.
“Come on.” He waggled it at me. “Don’t you let loose sometimes, Mr. Director? You can’t be that much of a stick in the mud when you’re not even thirty yet.”
Ironic he was calling me that when I was currently holding his condoms hostage like some lunatic and lying about finding them altogether. Or like a jealous ex refusing to let him move on because they were still hung up on the relationship.
Holy fuck.
Was I jealous?
My hand shot out, gesturing for him to toss me the bottle.
Instead of doing so, he laughed and nodded to the couches. “Go sit.”
Responsible. Not willing to trash my property on the off chance he threw it too wide or I was shit at hand-eye coordination. He wasn’t as reckless as I thought.