3. Sloan
Chapter three
Sloan
“ E njoy your night off?” Beck asks as we roll silverware before Murphy’s opens in a half hour.
“Yeah, why?”
“You have this distant look on your face, like your mind is somewhere else. I wondered if you had some fun last night?” He waggles his eyebrows.
The entire town might gossip out of boredom, good-naturedly, but Beck does it to live vicariously through others. As a lifelong resident in a place where everyone still thinks of him as a sweet-faced little boy, most people are too protective of him to include him in their shenanigans, especially knowing his de facto older brother, Cade, or his overprotective mother will hold them accountable. Considering he’s not even old enough to drink, the poor guy must be bored out of his mind, so it’s understandable he fixates on the lives of others.
I feel for the guy—I was the scrawny, awkward underdog myself until I hit my growth spurt senior year of high school. Though I had a big sister who was more prone to corruption than protection, so I had some fu n
“Nothing exciting. Just weird.” And uncomfortable, intriguing, arousing. Shoot me now.
“What was weird about it?” Lennon, the owner of Murphy’s and my boss, flops into the booth next to me, propping his bare legs and combat boots on an adjacent chair.
My sister Ally, who gets the skirts for him, swears he isn’t Scottish, he just has an adventurous fashion sense. All I know is, if my legs looked that good in a skirt, I might follow suit.
“A client I had yesterday.” Carter’s office flashes in my mind—his voice, that towel, the awkward yet strangely endearing moment we shared.
“Are you blushing? Spill,” Beck demands.
“Well, I was giving a massage, just like normal—” I leave out the part about being in Carter’s office instead of the spa, “—and the guy had a…physical reaction.”
“Physical like…” Lennon prompts.
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, searching for the best way to answer.
“The firehose was full?” Beck’s eyebrows raise a tad.
“Ya.” That's all I can get out.
“As in… he raised the flagpole?” He makes a little triangle shape with his hands. “Popped a tent?” Beck is grinning like he’s winning charades, and with every confirming nod of my head his eyebrows get a little higher.
Lennon swats at him with a dishrag. Beck sticks out his tongue when he misses.
“So, what did you do?” Beck leans forward the way I’d assume any nosy gay boy would, only I’m not sure if that’s because he’s actually gay or he’s merely curious now that Cade has come out as bi .
“Nothing, he’s a professional,” Lennon answers for me, no doubt trying to curb some of Beck’s enthusiasm. “Right?”
“Right,” I agree, omitting the fact that part of me really wanted to be unprofessional, just for a minute. “It just took me by surprise. That’s never happened before.”
“That’s the part I find hard to believe.” Lennon chews on the ice from his water. “Don’t guys only get a rub down for the happy endings?”
My soda threatens to rush out my nose as I cough through an awkward swallow.
“It’s not like that. I’m not rubbing , I’m focusing on precise areas of tension and working them out. It’s never aroused anyone before.” Okay, maybe I was rubbing Carter a little. The man’s body is as hard as a sculpture while also smooth to the touch. Could he tell I liked it? Did I cause it? God—does he think I was feeling him up?
“Maybe he’s kinky like that,” Beck volunteers.
“Don’t say kinky in my presence, Beckett.” Lennon points a warning finger at his chest, pulling out the big guns with his full name. “I can’t lie and if your mom asks me where you heard that word I’ll be forced to tell.”
“I’m twenty. She’ll just have to accept that my vocabulary extends to sex now. Anyhow—” Beck turns to me “—if you didn’t do anything how’d you shoot him down?”
“I just told him that wasn’t part of the job. He was apologetic about it.” After being snarky, but if the roles were reversed and I was the one sporting an ill-timed erection, I’d probably have done the same thing.
All things considered, he wasn’t the world’s biggest asshole. Though as the thought crosses my mind, I realize he didn’t even ask my name. Rude . It’s kind of the least you can do after flashing a boner at someone, in my opinion. Then again, I could’ ve introduced myself before we got started like a professional would, only I was too distracted by his looks. I guess that makes me just as guilty.
“Was he hot?” Beck interrupts my train of thought.
Once again, I try to find the answer by gnawing on my cheek. “Have you ever seen someone and gone completely blank? Like you momentarily forget where you are and what you should be doing?”
Lennon whistles softly. The kind of whistle that says I’m in trouble. Dammit. As if I need a reminder.
“How big did you say his tent was?” Beck asks as he reaches for more silverware under Lennon’s watchful gaze, holding up first a spoon, then a fork, then a knife. When I don’t dignify him with an answer he sucks in a ragged breath and whistles. “Damn. Well, I know what I’m getting you for Christmas… A memory foam seat cushion. You’re going to need it if you’re taking that sort of behemoth-sized trouser snake up the back door. That’s some third degree organ rearrangement.”
“Beckett,” Lennon hisses, snapping the towel at him again.
“Don’t get carried away.” I shake my head as if Beck is being dramatic while trying to keep a neutral expression on my face. It seemed sooo big . Then I had to panic and fucking called it his business since I was afraid saying cock might earn me a pink slip. Not my proudest moment, but damn . I dare anyone to keep their wits about them in the presence of a specimen like that. “And I’m with Lennon, I can’t talk about my client’s dick with you.” I hope my voice is steady enough that they don’t suspect I’ve been thinking about it non-stop.
“I knew it,” Beck retorts.
“I didn’t say it was that big.” I squint my eyes at him, “It was just weird.”
“Creepy, unnatural weird, like something is wrong with the man? Or was it like sexy weird?” Lennon inquires. “Asking for a friend. ”
I rub my jaw while I consider the question. Under normal circumstances I’d probably find it creepy. But Carter is every bit as gorgeous as the rumors suggested, and the idea that I could make a guy like that hot and bothered, well, it’s kind of flattering. It gives me a bit of a rush, complete with the pounding heartbeat and shortness of breath. I don’t even want to think of what that says about me.
“Oh my God, you liked it.” Lennon’s eyes sparkle mischievously.
“I didn’t say that.” I roll a set of silverware in a napkin and reach for another.
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”
“Smoking hot and an extra large firehose? Are you sure you didn’t have fun last night?” Beck studies me critically.
“I’m sure.” That’s technically true, although knowing what Carter may have gotten up to after I left fueled all sorts of fantasies that made my night considerably less boring. Thank God my sister Ally and her husband Finn were having date night so my takeover of the bathroom went unnoticed.
“Think he’ll be back?” Beck licks his lips.
“I have no idea. But it doesn’t matter. I could lose my license if I cross the line with a client, so it’s a moot point.”
“Boring.” Beck crosses his arms with a huff. This guy’s got brat written all over him. If he’s not just curious he’ll make some guy very happy one day.
“You both going to Maddox and Cade’s wedding this weekend?” I change the subject.
“Of course. I’m doing a reading.” Beck perks up at the mention of his de facto brother.
“For a few hours, but I’ve got to get back for the dinner rush.” Lennon stands, his break clearly over .
“Don’t you ever take time off?” Over the course of the last year, I’ve hardly seen the man outside this restaurant, and while I admire his determination, I can’t fathom how he never gets burned out.
“Nope. Fortunately, I love what I do.” He takes the bin of rolled silverware and heads toward the stockroom to finish getting ready for the evening rush.
***
I notice him slip into the back row just before the procession starts.
My mouth goes dry.
Carter is mesmerizing in his charcoal suit and black tie. I’d say that’s because he’s the only guy here in a fully tailored suit, but it’s more the way he fills out the suit that catches my eye. It’s clearly not something he bought off the rack, clinging to his frame in a way that accentuates his trim physique.
I’m not really the kind of guy who goes for suits. In my experience most guys look uncomfortable in them, like they’re pretending to be an adult. Lumberjack is more my style, or it was before today.
Carter was wearing a suit the other day, or suit pants anyway, so I didn’t get the full effect. With the jacket and tie he looks both graceful and powerful, though the hint of late-day stubble adds a bit of rustic appeal.
I sneak another peek at him just as Maddox passes my row on his walk down the aisle. His expression is blank, his posture stiff, though his eyes look a little less serious today than they did in his office. In fact, they almost look warm, making me wonder what’s going through his mind.
There’s no denying Carter’s mystery is part of his appeal. Maddox seems to like him, but of all the people I know in town he’s the only one to have any regular contact with him. No one knows why he picked this ski resort to purchase or what his plans are for it, except Maddox and he’s under contract, thus can’t share.
Similarly, no one knows anything personal about him, like what his hobbies are, what foods he likes or whether he has a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. He so rarely leaves his office at the resort that sightings have become a bit of a game, a ‘Where’s Waldo,’ CEO edition.
My attention is drawn forward when the ceremony begins with a laugh—Cade jumps the gun and kisses his groom before the officiant tells him to—which seems fitting based on what I know of the guy. Before long I’m wiping away tears, as I watch them take their vows. If ever there was an underdog to root for its Cade, the guy who once seemed allergic to relationships and felt that made him unworthy to be in one. Fortunately, Maddox didn’t judge him based on his past, and now they’re the perfect couple.
Once the ceremony ends people file out of their chairs and head toward the reception tent. I lose track of Carter in the crowd when I try to wipe away the evidence of my happy tears—I have a soft spot for gay weddings—but my curiosity has me casually meandering through the guests, turning my head from side to side in a lame attempt to catch another glimpse.
After that awkward massage, this might be the last time I see him. I don’t want to miss it.Unfortunately, the man is elusive.
I’m about to give up my search when something pulls my eyes toward the gift table. I look up to find Carter staring in my direction, lips pressed in a firm line, offering no clue to what he’s thinking or feeling. Yet the intensity in his gaze suggests there’s some deep thoughts behind the mask, and I have a sudden desire to discover every one of them.
Get it together, Sloan.
This is still your boss .
Heart pounding, I hold my ground, willing myself not to blink. I don’t know what’s happening, what this little staring contest means, but I’m determined not to be as flustered as I was the other day. And to commit this man to memory in case I never see him again.
Even though I still don’t know what prompted that episode in his office—and likely never will—I don’t have any illusions I caused his predicament despite him saying that’s never happened before. And I have to assume it won’t happen again, mainly because I doubt I’ll be invited back. It’s why I can’t—I won’t —look away.
As the seconds tick by and we hold each other’s gaze, my mind registers the need to move, to do something other than stand frozen in place. I lift my head a fraction, the start of a subtle up-nod, just as he drops an envelope on the table and spins toward the exit. Guess I should’ve kept playing statue.
Deflated, I make my way to the outdoor kitchen on the patio for a drink where my brother-in-law Finn and his friends are gathered. I guess they’re my friends too. Most of what we have in common is Finn and my sister though, so maybe friends by proxy is more accurate.
There’s Cade and Maddox, the two who got married today, although they’re off doing groom things instead of throwing back beers. Deacon is Cade’s cousin who moved here shortly before I did, and who has assumed the role of town playboy which was vacated by Cade once he met Maddox and came out as bi.
Dex is the bartender of The Underground, our favorite hangout, which along with Murphy’s is pretty much a second home to our group. He’s a bit older, a bit quieter, but a nice guy overall.
Ryder and Blake are lifelong residents of Katah Vista, and Blake works at the spa with me while Ryder spends part of the year traveling to do snowboard competitions. Like Deacon they both have a penchant for entertaining tourists since there are only about ten single people in the whole town, and either none of them appeal or they have a been there, done that mentality. I’ve never asked for clarification and figure it’s not my business anyway.
“Hey, did you guys see who showed up for the ceremony?” Blake asks the group as I take the beer offered by the bartender.
“You mean the resort’s elusive new CEO?” Finn snorts and shakes his head. “I figured he’d be invited since Maddox works for him, but I never thought he’d grace us with his presence.”
I fight to keep from wincing at Finn’s words.
I’m grateful to my sister and her husband for giving me a place to crash while I get settled, but there’s an underlying tension in the air courtesy of Finn’s feelings about his job. Feelings that, while arguably justified since his issue is the amount of much-needed improvements that are stacking up, I now think might be harsh if the exhaustion on Carter’s face the other day is anything to go by.
“Cade seems to like him,” Deacon says.
“Cade likes everyone.” Dex chuckles. “But we are talking about his husband’s boss. Of course, Cade’s gonna like the guy that gave Maddox a job.”
“I still can’t believe Carter actually showed up,” Finn says. “I work at the resort, and this is the first time I’ve seen him in weeks.”
“The resort sponsors me, and I’ve seen him even less,” Ryder says. “You’d think he would at least say hi to the rider he’s bankrolling considering he’s a former skier himself.”
You would think that… I wonder if it has to do with whatever is stressing him out. Is that why he hasn’t made contact with Ryder?
“Dude hardly leaves his office, much less speaks to any of us. What I don’t get is why bother coming here when he clearly isn’t interested in getting to know anyone.” Finn’s brows draw together as he sips his beer .
“Maybe he likes Maddox?” I interject.
“Everyone likes Maddox,” Blake snorts, “but that’s not the point. The point is he’s made no effort to be part of this town. Even the previous owner, sketchy as he was, poked his head out of the office.”
“That guy liked to boast about owning the mountain.” Ryder tips his bottle towards Blake like he’s correcting him.
“At least we knew what he looked like,” Finn scoffs. “And even if he wasn’t cut out to run a resort, you knew he was trying. I have no idea what Carter does all day in his little castle.” Me either, but whatever it is it’s weighing on him. I’ve never seen someone so young so tense.
“We know what he’s not doing.” Deacon shakes his head before taking a pull off his beer bottle. “He’s not pouring money into the place.”
“Isn’t he loaded enough to make some much needed improvements?” Ryder asks.
“Him being loaded and the resort being loaded are two different things,” I say without thinking. Half a dozen heads swing in my direction. Shit . When am I going to shake this need to defend the underdog? As if Carter is an underdog.
“If he wasn’t willing to pump some of that money into the resort, why buy it?” Finn rounds on me with an agitated scowl.
“How should I know? I’m just saying personal finances are different from company finances.” I take a swig of my beer to keep my hand busy and plug my piehole.
“You know what kind of money his family’s company has? Trust me, it’s enough to fix the Pioneer lift on Peak Two and the drainage in the parking lot so the damn thing doesn’t turn into an ice rink.” Finn drains his beer and sets it on the bar so hard the clink echoes around us.
“Well then, maybe he needed some time to assess all the issues before deciding where to focus money on repairs?” I shrug and take a sip of my drink, wishing I’d never spoken up in the first place. I knew Finn was frustrated with work, though I didn’t realize that was solely directed at the man I’m now defending, and I don’t need to aggravate him when I’m crashing in his spare room.
I don’t even know why I’m defending Carter. The man did just abruptly leave without so much as a hello when I know he saw me. Okay, I’m eighty percent sure he saw me. And I have no more idea what he plans for the resort than Finn, who actually works for him. I have no business volunteering my opinions when I have nothing more than a gut feeling that Carter isn’t all bad to base them on. Yet that gut feeling is pretty strong.
“He’s had nearly a year to scope things out if that’s what he was really doing, but he still hasn’t spent a dime on the resort or told us what his plans are for it.” Finn stares me down.
“Have you asked him?” I hold my breath waiting for a response. Why did I say that?
Finn’s eyebrows disappear under his shaggy hair. “What? No.”
Ryder, Deacon and Blake exchange a look. Apparently, this is news to them.
“Why?” I ask.
“He never leaves his office.”
“You know where it is though, right?” I steal Janice’s line and catch the guys snickering. “Just go ask.”
“Yeah, like he’d tell me anything.” Finn’s eyes roll back in his head as he shakes it back and forth, like that’s the most absurd idea he’s ever heard .
“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t.” I throw my hand up in exasperation. “All I’m saying is it can’t hurt to ask. And if you do, he could turn out to have a plan you actually like.”
“As long as the plan isn’t to turn this place into some swanky high-dollar resort that cares more about appearances than taking care of the mountain, I’m good.” Ryder raises his bottle, an attempt to diffuse my brother-in-law.
We clink glasses, all of us agreeing with that statement. I offer Finn a weak smile, and he gives me a curt nod. He knows I’m a peacekeeper by nature, so I’m forgiven, although I don’t think I should volunteer any more opinions about the resort, or the man I know nothing about.