Chapter 10
Niko
Damn, it’s taken all my will power to give her control. To let her slowly slide down on me at her own pace. This is for her. She gets the power this time. I want her to take what she wants.
Once she’s seated, I slowly start to rock. I’ve been ready to explode since she wrapped me in her body. Her soft gasp and gentle mewling warn me of her coming explosion. I need her to come first. I need her to know she will always be my first priority. “Take what you need, I’m yours.”
“It feels… I need to reach something.”
“Yes kardiá mou, now.
“Nico. Nico, I never… Nico….”
“Come for me, sweetheart, come now. That’s it, agápi mou. Take it. Grab it. Let the wave of pleasure pull you along. Give in.”
Her release pulls me with her. Never have I felt so alive.
She collapses on my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. Holding her, I brush my palm up and down her back. A peace I haven’t felt in years fills my chest. Home. She is my home.
I’ve achieved many of the things I thought I wanted. Adulation for meaningless records, invitations to high profile boring parties and clubs. A lot of flash with no substance. Now I realize that she, and the love I feel for her, is all I need or want.
“Sleep, love. We have plenty of time before we need to get going.”
The next morning, I wake her gently and send her to the shower while I throw together quick breakfast sandwiches and get the coffee going.
When she walks back in, I kiss her forehead. “Eat while I shower. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
At the VA, we finish decorating the tree around noon.
Sall shows up with lunch and her brother, Chad.
While the ladies catch up, I walk the grounds with him to talk through the placement for the Santa and sleigh displays.
He points out how the surrounding buildings create wind channels and why the weight distribution has to be exact.
Together we unroll the deflated Santa and start filling it.
We lay out the sleigh and reindeer while we wait.
“Wynter said you’re a contractor. What exactly do you do?”
“Pretty much everything. I’m a dual-licensed architect and a general contractor. I’ve worked on commercial building, restaurants, historic restoration, private homes.”
“She also said you put in a proposal for the Ice House repairs, but it hasn’t been accepted. Any idea why?”
He scowls, then shrugs. “Mayor wants the money for something else. He’s been trying to have the building condemned. Only reason he hasn’t pulled it off is because half of the town council actually gives a damn. No telling how long they can hold him back.”
“The mayor isn’t a local?”
“Nope. Out of stater. Realtor type who likes schmoozing with the rich folks up at the lodge. Wormed his way in here with big promises he never delivered on. Spends more time kissing up to the rich people he wants to buy cheap property in this dying little town than actually saving the place. He doesn’t care about us—just the money he can squeeze out of us.
“I looked into him when he was running. He’s done this before. But he talks a slick game, and I’m just ‘a handyman’ according to him. People see it now, but I’m afraid it’s too late.”
“The Ice House is repairable? You could handle it, right?”
“Yeah. But they only got two-thirds of the money that it will take for the repair. I told him ages ago the roof needed work before it caved in. If he’d fixed it then, the insurance gap wouldn’t be such a mess.
“At the start of winter, I had a crew put some of our leftover tarps up to prevent more damage.”
“Was the rink a revenue generator?”
“It paid for itself, and the city council had big plans. Keep the public skating, add lessons, hockey leagues with neighboring towns, a snack bar, ice cream counter, coffee bar, birthday parties, date night with music and lights. Could’ve have worked. Now it’s sitting there rotting.”
“What if the town found a benefactor? Would you get the contract?”
“Probably. Depends on whether the council can stand up to the mayor.”
“Who do you trust on the council?”
“John McDermott and Sheila Withers. Smart, tough, and they actually care.”
He straightens from checking Santa’s airflow and looks me square in the eyes. “Now you answer a question for me. Why do you care? And what are your intentions with Wynter? She’s basically family.”
I smile. “I like the feel of this town. And my Wynter loves it here, so I’ll guessing I’ll be around a lot.”
He nods once. “You can get McDermott and Wither’s numbers from Wynter.”
“I’d prefer them from you. She’s still adjusting to… me.”
“And your intentions?”
“I’m looking to relocate. Permanently, if she’ll have me. She needs a little more time.”
“I’ve known her since we were kids. She’d give you the shirt off her back. Which is wild, considering her parents are shit. Her dad’s always lost in his computers. Her mother’s a user and manipulator. Dom’s fine if you can pin him down—skirt chaser, easily distracted. Still young.
“But Wynter? She’s real. Kind. Sweet. Everyone loves her. Shame her parents didn’t see what everyone else did.” He pulls out his phone. “Give me your number. I’ll text you.”
I do. My phone buzzes a moment later and I confirm his message. “I told her she needs to run for mayor”
“The town would eat that up. She’d win without trying.” Chad grins, then kills the air pump. “I’m grabbing us coffees. You make your calls.” He pauses. “And seriously, ditch the beanie, Vasi. The ball cap hides you better. Makes you look more like a Nico.”
Once he leaves, I swap headgear then make the first call.