Chapter Ten #2
“On my honeymoon.” How he pulled that word out of his memory while the walls closed in, his ears rang, and his brain leaned into overload was a miracle.
“We wanted to see if the rumors were true,” Cash said and popped a chip in his mouth.
“Your ambush didn’t feel all that friendly,” Telford noted.
“Meeting tonight’s a beginning,” Rohan said.
He thought about that. Looked at both men.
Did he want a beginning—was that why he was here more than building something for Cam?
Did he want to meet family? See a family ranch that he could have belonged to but didn’t?
Be a stranger on legacy land. He’d been on the outside his whole life.
His mother, strong and fierce with an independent spirit, had been unprotected when she’d needed family and protection most.
The potato skins arrived, but Telford pushed up and away from the booth. Ayana followed him, stood by his side.
“I’ll be in touch,” Telford said, turning on his heel, he strode out of the bar, telling the server to charge everything to his suite.
*
“I need a run,” Telford said, unlocking the suite door and standing aside so she could enter first.
He looked like he was barely holding it together and might immediately bolt. Tension sizzled through him, doing something spectacular to his already ode-worthy eyes. He shrugged out of his blazer and unbuttoned his shirt.
“Ummmm …” She stared at his tanned, cut physique.
“Is there a gym here?” She should have considered that—not that she had workout clothes beyond one matching soft, stretchy rose pink cotton lounge suit.
Her jobs had always been physical—standing on her feet all day and hustling—so beyond doing some stretching at the end of a shift, or walking or dancing on her nights off, she didn’t have an exercise routine. Maybe she’d need one.
Captain America Telford certainly had an exercise routine.
She stared like a perve. Would he shuck off his pants next?
He stalked to his room and returned wearing light-weight athletic pants and a vest with reflective strips.
He paused, not meeting her searching gaze. She felt compelled to help him, but how? He was the one with the big idea to explore his possible family history and build a legacy for his friend. She was along for the ride.
“Order room service if you’re hungry. Sorry about the nachos. That’s two meals I’ve cheated you out of.” And he was gone.
“Maybe I won’t need a gym. Some wedding night,” she muttered and then laughed.
They had a legal marriage. Nothing more.
She’d thought the legal process unnecessary, but since she’d had a few days to see Telford operate, he was surprisingly honest—especially for a wealthy man.
Even tonight when confronted he hadn’t lied to his maybe half-brother—or brothers.
She should probably do her job as assistant and start researching.
She kicked off her boots, peeled off her dress and slipped her lounge-at-home elastic pants and the three-quarter zip matching hoody.
It was soft, warm, and cozy, and she pressed the switch on the gas fire and looked longingly at the champagne chilling and the snacks.
Though it wasn’t a true marriage, it seemed rude to indulge without him.
She wished she’d had the presence of mind to hold on to her glass of wine.
She’d only had a couple of sips, and it had been delicious.
She could order more. He’d been clear she could bill anything to the room, but he’d return at some point and be hungry. They could do room service then and discuss next steps.
She reached out for her craft tote. Crocheting little animals would be good gifts for any Telford children they might meet.
The two Telfords tonight had felt like a saturated testosterone ad for the American west. And there might be more of them.
Small-town, rural ranch hotties. No doubt they started young.
She shut down the tickle of memory. It had no place here.
And if the Telfords hadn’t started to breed like the prodigal bio dad who’d confronted them in Denver, she could drop some off at the hospital she’d seen.
Maybe she should crochet horses. Perhaps the hotel boutique would sell them on consignment.
She’d spotted it at check-in, tucked away in an alcove across from the bar.
It looked like it had a lot of art, local crafts, and gifts as well as baskets filled—with local products, perhaps.
Or she could make a baby blanket for the baby that had been shoved in Cash’s arms last month.
Too personal? Too soon? Or maybe he’d sorted things out with the angry mother and no longer had the child.
It was going to be like the blind leading the blind if she was tasked with helping Telford navigate his family dynamic.
But that was what she’d been hired to do unless during his run he decided he wanted to drive back to Denver.
Dismay filtered through her. It was scary how committed she already felt to his goal of building a legacy for Cam and for having six months minimum to plan for a new life.
She was emotionally invested. Not good. But Telford had ponied up a hefty deposit that she’d banked. And she had a contract that spelled out the consequences if either of them backed out early. Financially she was covered.
Emotionally she felt vulnerable.
Hoping to quiet her doubts, she pulled out her phone and began scrolling for a sample of a crochet horse.
She could make a few to practice before turning back to creating another duster-style vest—one with leather and metal western accents to mark her time in Montana.
She could feature them with the local scenery framing them in her online shop.
But a pattern for a baby blanket caught her eye.
She started to work, pushing aside the image of Telford running in the cold and dark.
*
Telford ran for an hour and twenty minutes, before he returned to the room, steeped in guilt for leaving Ayana alone for so long.
He never imagined he’d be such a coward facing what might be family.
He returned to the room, sweaty, but not calmed.
He headed for his shower, but the sound of splashing and humming from the primary suite stopped him in the tracks.
He knew he should have insisted she take the room with the bath.
He pictured her sleek and naked, submerged in bubbles teasing warm, wet flesh.
He longed to enter the bathroom though he had no right.
He’d promised that any sexual relationship with Ayana couldn’t be a hookup—just about quenching primal urges.
To distract himself from unwelcome lust, he grabbed a water from the fridge.
Downed it and stared through the window at the twinkling lights of the small town.
Could this have been his hometown had his bio dad been a better man?