Chapter 15
Damian
It isn’t an overexcited five-year-old that wakes me up in the morning.
No. It’s the heavy footsteps of an overexcited middle-aged man.
I can hear Leon talking to someone, and before I even open my eyes I know who it is.
I can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s talking to Brielle.
I crack my eyes open to find myself alone, just like I expected.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he laughs when I open the bedroom door a few minutes later. I grunt a reply, making my way to the one bathroom in this tiny cabin.
I slept like shit last night, my raging erection begging for some relief, but I didn’t dare risk making a sound in the quietness of the night.
This morning isn’t much different. Sound travels in this house, evidenced by the quiet laughter I can hear through the walls while I try to do my business and keep my dick from springing up again.
A feat I don’t generally struggle with, until last night.
Leon and Brielle are in the cabin’s small kitchen when I join them a minute later. “I have coffee and juice, if you want any. Stephen’s just finishing up, and then we’ll be ready to go.”
Right. Ice fishing with the guys. That’s what this is all about.
Building that relationship, that rapport, with Leon and Pam.
The last thing I want to do is spend hours on a freezing lake with a pole in the water, waiting for some slimy sea urchin to latch on, but at least it will be better than spending my day with Brielle.
I look at her now, still in her heart pajama pants, a sweater pulled over the silky tank, her hair loose and messy, with no hint of makeup on her face. “Are you going to be good here by yourself?” I ask.
“Of course. Pam, Courtney, Maggie, and I are going to have girls’ day.”
“Good.”
She smirks at me over the rim of her coffee mug. “Good.”
I catch Leon’s eyes bouncing between us and suddenly feel the need to put on a show for him.
That’s my excuse anyway. Really, I just need to touch her again.
I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her shoulders.
Brielle leans back into me like this is something we do all the time.
I lean down and kiss the side of her cheek.
It’s the most relationshippy thing I’ve ever done, holding her like this in the morning light, but I don’t hate it like I thought I would.
Honestly, it feels kind of nice, even if it is all for show.
“I’d better go get ready,” I tell her.
“Okay.”
I’m still clinging to her, enjoying the familiarity of this feeling a lot more than I should. Then again, she’s still leaning back on me, too. I drop my arms, and she shifts her weight. I feel the loss of her in more than just a physical way.
It only takes me a few minutes to get changed and ready for the day. Based on my research, I choose thermal long johns under a pair of dark jeans, a long-sleeve wicking shirt, and my thick overcoat. I throw on a pair of wool socks with my boots and hope that it’ll be good enough.
Leon and Stephen are both silently staring at me when I rejoin them in the kitchen. Brielle’s lips tug up, and she tries to hide her smile behind her coffee cup.
“What?” I ask the room.
“Nothing,” Leon says at the same time Stephen asks, “Have you ever been ice fishing before?”
“First-timer,” I grudgingly admit. I’m starting to feel foolish. Leon and Stephen are both in thick winter coveralls. Stephen’s got a ski jacket over his, while Leon is wearing a hooded sweatshirt under his.
“Jeans aren’t really the best choice for this,” Leon explains. “The lake is frozen over, but it’ll still be wet out there. Once you get those wet, you’ll freeze for the rest of the day. Stephen—”
“On it,” he says without waiting for anything else.
He comes back a few minutes later with an additional pair of coveralls.
Black with a thick, deep pink stripe down the side.
“These are a new prototype we’ve been developing.
The material is water-resistant, but breathable.
The lining is made entirely of sustainable materials, and the shell is eighty-percent sustainable.
We’re working to get that number higher without compromising the integrity of the water resistance. ”
“And keeping them affordable, of course,” Leon adds.
“These were for Court, so they’ll definitely be too short, but you’re… lean, so I think they’ll fit you okay.”
A choke comes from the other side of the room. Brielle is forcibly trying to contain her laughter, her eyes shining with amusement at my predicament.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I say quickly.
Stephen shakes his head at me. “You really won’t be. Trust me.”
“Leon, maybe you could add an attire guide to your tours for your future clients,” Brielle suggests.
Solid idea. If only we could have gotten that information before we came out here.
“Yes. Yes. I usually do. I thought you had said that he loved fishing. Figured you knew your way around a bit more than you do,” he laughs.
Fucking Brielle.
I take the offered coveralls from Stephen, my embarrassment at an all-time high. “Summer fishing,” I lie. I don’t do that either.
I change quickly, discarding my jeans and adding the coveralls over my thermals, right in the kitchen. A soft shutter sounds, and I glance up quickly. Brielle has her phone out, a shit-eating grin plastered across her face.
“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll text it to you, too.”
“Delete that,” I tell her. She shakes her head with that giddy little grin. She’s loving every second of my misery. As long as she doesn’t have that hurt look on her face that she had last night, I can’t bring myself to care too much that she’s being blatantly defiant.
Leon and Stephen are pushing me out the door, wanting to get started thirty minutes ago.
“Have fun, you guys,” Brielle calls as I shoot her a menacing glare.
I’m cold, tired, and hungry. But I’m also filled with a sense of primal, masculine pride. Stephen is silent on our drive back, opting to take the back seat in Leon’s pickup. He’s still sulking because my last-minute catch knocked his off the leaderboard by a whooping 2.2 inches.
There is no reason to feel as proud as I do that this monster of a fish decided to hook onto my line by nothing more than luck, but I do. Leon’s still hyping me up on the drive back.
Honestly, it’s been a really fun day out on the lake.
I can see the Vitales’ tours being successful if marketed to the right audience.
Out-of-state, experienced fishermen needing to know where to go for the best results, and amateurs like me who still need direction as to what to wear, would both benefit from Leon’s expertise at various levels.
Hiking groups that could accommodate multiple skill levels without sacrificing the breathtaking views.
“How long have you been doing the tours?” I ask.
“Pammie and I only started them up a few years ago, small groups that needed the guidance, but not full hand-holding. Since then, we’ve expanded on them.
The plan is make these tours the cornerstone of the business across all of the Northeast and as many activities as we can.
Summer, fall, winter, spring, doesn’t matter.
We will have something available that will get people outdoors and in nature. If we can make it work, anyway.”
“I can’t see why not. I’m going to be honest with you, Leon, I’m not a big outdoors guy—”
“You don’t say,” Stephen pipes up from the back seat, humor lacing his voice.
I glare at him in the back seat, but he just chuckles like I’m fucking funny. “As I was saying, Brielle kind of exaggerated the truth that night at dinner, and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to get to know you better, but I didn’t have high hopes for this weekend other than networking.”
I’m not usually this candid with my clients, but I feel like I can be with Leon. I’m pretty sure he would prefer it if I was.
“And how did we do?” he asks.
“I’m impressed. And I don’t impress easily.
Whether you choose to partner with CreativEdge for your advertising and marketing or not, you’ve really got something here.
I’ve had a really good time this weekend.
” Leon’s passion for what he does is evident.
It’s infectious. The ice fishing itself was better than I expected, but what made the day enjoyable was their comfort and ease.
The way they worked together, even when they pressured me into using the drill to cut a new hole in the ice.
Handling that equipment gave me a thrill that I will never tell to another soul.
They brought me in like I was one of them, never making me feel anything but part of the team.
“I’m glad to hear that, Damian. Thank you. I hope that Brielle has enjoyed herself as well.”
Oh, she did. Of that, I have no doubt, regardless of how she tried to play it off last night.
“She certainly did. Thank you for inviting us out here this weekend.”
“It’s been my pleasure.” Leon smiles as he pulls into the driveway.
The cabin is quiet when we walk in. Everyone’s cars were out front, so I know they can’t be far, but with the Vitales, anything is possible. Pam could have taken them bear hunting for all I know. I turn into the family room and stop short.
Apparently, they didn’t go bear hunting.
Every one of them is knocked out. Pam is laid out on the couch, Courtney is curled into the chair, and Brielle is on the floor, surrounded by chairs draped with blankets and a collection of pillows, with a sleeping Maggie lying on her chest.
I pull out my phone and snap a picture. I’d like to think it’s retaliation for her doing the same to me this morning, but I know that’s not the case. I don’t let myself dwell on the why of it all. I just know I want to capture the moment before it slips away.