SHOW ME SOMETHING
ADDISON
I t was possible that from the outside looking in, Patrick and I might have looked a little crazy to some people. I’d just moved back home after being gone for years, and we were already engaged. But for the two of us, there was no sense in putting off the inevitable. We’d been foolish and treated time like it was something that was guaranteed. Like it wasn’t precious when it absolutely was. We didn’t want to waste any more of it by taking things slow or pretending like we didn’t know our futures involved each other when they always had and always would.
So, when I texted Sarina and told her the news, she responded with, It’s about damn time!
“Baby!” Patrick shouted as soon as he walked through our front door.
I’d never get tired of saying that or thinking it. Ours.
“I’m downstairs,” I shouted, and I heard his footsteps quicken their pace as he hurried to get to me.
He’d neglected to show me the massive wine cellar he’d built when I came here the first time, but after moving in officially, I’d gotten the grand tour, which included said cellar, multiple rooms that I hadn’t noticed before, a pantry that could fit a small family, and a massive detached shed that matched the house. The shed was Patrick’s workshop. Let me tell you, if your man had a workshop, then you’d know just how drop-dead sexy that was.
“Whatcha doing?” Patrick asked as soon as he caught me adding a little artwork to the otherwise empty walls right as Jasper ran up to my side, and I started petting his head.
“Sprucing up the place,” I said with a grin.
I’d been adding some small feminine touches lately while I decided exactly what I was going to do with my life and where I was going to end up doing it.
He looked at my handiwork and then at me approvingly. “I like it.”
“I’m glad,” I said before leaning up to give him a kiss.
“So…” he started to say before he pulled me close, holding me in his arms with a grip I knew I couldn’t wiggle out of. “I have something I want to show you.”
Leaning back, I gave him an inquisitive look. “What is it?” I asked, and he shook his head.
“Come on.” He waved as he let my body go. “I’ll show you.”
He headed up the stairs, and I walked right behind him, knowing that I’d follow that man anywhere he led.
It was only when he made his way toward the door and pulled it open that I realized we were leaving the house.
“Is it outside?”
He nodded.
“No, boy. You gotta stay here,” he said to Jasper, and that was my first clue that something mysterious was afoot.
Jasper looked downright depressed, and I pressed a kiss to the top of his nose.
“We’ll be right back, boy,” I said even though I had no idea when we’d be back.
He whined as he lay down, his eyes sad as we closed the door behind us.
“I’m intrigued,” I admitted as he pulled open the passenger door for me and helped me inside.
Patrick didn’t respond. He only gave me a crooked grin instead, his blue eyes sparkling with whatever secret he was holding. I could have asked a million questions while we drove, but I knew it would be no use. If my man didn’t want to share something, he wouldn’t. And no amount of prodding or sexual torture would get him to open up.
When we pulled into a rare open parking spot on Main Street, I narrowed my eyes, wondering what we were doing here exactly. I wasn’t hungry, didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, and wasn’t really in the mood to socialize with the town.
Patrick opened my door for me before helping me out and interlocking our fingers. He led me toward that fancy restaurant I’d seen when Sarina and I were here together. Pulling a key from his pocket, he inserted it into the lock and turned. The click was loud and unmistakable.
“Why do you have a key to this place?” I asked as confusion clouded my brain.
He didn’t answer, and I stared in awe as he twisted the knob and pushed one of the glass doors open, the bells jingling with the abrupt movement.
“Patrick, how do you have the keys to this restaurant?” I still wasn’t putting the pieces together because nothing made sense.
Reaching for my hand once more, he pulled me inside and closed the door behind us, the lock sticking at first.
“I bought it,” he said before letting go of my hand and spinning me around by my shoulders so I could see it all.
“You bought what?” I asked as I glanced around, my eyes taking in every inch of the space.
It was tastefully decorated, but way too fancy for me and most likely the rest of Sugar Mountain. I wasn’t surprised in the least that the owner hadn’t been able to make it work. If his menu had matched the decor, then no one but a small percentage of tourists would have been able to afford even eating here.
“I bought the restaurant from the idiot who tried to open it,” Patrick offered with a shrug.
Everything slammed into me all at once, the force almost tipping me over. I reached out for the back of one of the chairs and balanced on it.
“That’s why all the stuff is still here. The equipment, the furniture, the fancy fixtures,” I breathed out as the realization of what he’d done continued to sink in.
“I told him I wanted it all. Just in case.”
“Just in case what?” I couldn’t stop myself from smiling or hide the excitement that had found its way into my tone of voice.
Patrick closed the distance between us and held me by my waist, his hands firmly gripping my hips. “In case you wanted it to be yours, Addi. In case you wanted a place in Sugar Mountain to call your own.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, I knew that was exactly what I wanted. I hadn’t realized it so clearly until this moment, but I did want to open my own restaurant here, in Sugar Mountain. I’d been contemplating all of my options since I’d come back. I had even made a list, not that I’d shared it with Patrick yet.
·Start a catering company
·Cater private events or work solely for Sugar Mountain Resort and their event department
·Work in the Sugar Mountain Resort restaurant
·Open my own restaurant
·Sell to-go meals online only, including delivery
·Work privately as home chef
·Open a storefront with prepackaged dinners and lunches
“So”—he waved his hand in a circle in the air—“what do you think?”
I spun slowly, taking it all in once more. “I’d like to change a few things. Well, a lot of things actually. None of this goes with my vision.” I began talking out loud as a menu started to form in my mind.
“But do you want it, baby? Do you want a place to call your own? I don’t want you to do it because I bought it. I could just as easily sell it.”
“Are you insane? Hell yes, I want it.” I smiled and launched myself into Patrick’s open arms before planting kisses all over his face. “Thank you, babe. Thank you so much.”
“Thank you for not taking that offer in New York.”
“This is so much better than New York could ever be,” I breathed out, looking forward to what I could do here and how quickly I could get it up and running.
“And why’s that?” He quirked a brow.
“Because you weren’t there,” I said before kissing him again.
My brain was going a mile a minute, the ideas piling on top of one another. I needed to figure out a menu that fit Sugar Mountain in both seasons, tourist and local. I definitely didn’t want to compete with the Main Street Diner, which was right across the street, so I planned on talking to Mr. and Mrs. Baker first before I settled on anything. There was so much to plan and do, but I was excited to get started.
“Think Bella will come work for me here?”
I pictured a free-standing bar with a handful of barstools so people could hang out there if they wanted. We could have happy-hour deals, and Bella would be the perfect fit with all of her specialty cocktails and clever ideas.
“I think you’d only have to ask her once, and she’d come running.”
The bells on the door jangled, as someone had obviously let themselves inside. I spun around as my eyes met Patrick’s, who looked like we’d just gotten caught doing something naughty.
“What are you guys doing in here?” Matthew asked, his brow furrowed.
I wasn’t sure how to answer, so I stayed silent.
“I was showing her the restaurant,” Patrick answered, and Matthew gave him a crooked grin and a laugh.
“I can see that. But how are you inside?” He pointed at the set of keys that were still in Patrick’s hand. “Did you buy this place, brother?”
“Maybe,” Patrick responded.
Matthew slammed a hand on one of the interior railings. “I wondered why it was still here after all this time.”
“The guy was going under, and I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Leave everything and go away,” Patrick said matter-of-factly, like buying a fully stocked restaurant was something that people just walked around and did every day.
“Wait a second. You didn’t know?” I asked Matthew as that part clicked.
“No. He didn’t tell me,” Matthew answered.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” Patrick said as Matthew studied him. “I wasn’t sure what would happen, and I didn’t want to hear how stupid I was being.”
I winced, and Matthew reared his head back.
“No one would have called you stupid. We all know how much you love Addison.”
“I just didn’t want anyone else’s opinion,” Patrick added.
Matthew nodded like he’d understood that reasoning completely. “I get it. But it all worked out, so it doesn’t matter.”
Matthew slammed a hand on the railing again. “I cannot wait to eat here, Addison. What’s it going to be?”
Grinning, I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not sure yet. I want to talk to Mrs. Baker and work out a menu that doesn’t conflict with theirs. I’m thinking elevated barbeque. We don’t have that on this side of town. Comfort barbeque with an elevated twist.”
“I like that term. Elevated. ” Matthew repeated the word a few times, each in a different fake accent before Patrick groaned.
“Okay. You can go away now.”
“Jeez. All I do is love you guys, and you’re so mean,” Matthew whined, and I made a face.
“Hey! I didn’t even do anything,” I said, defending my own honor.
“You’re right, Addison. You’re delightful. Patrick sucks. But I’ll give you lovebirds some alone time with your new restaurant.”
Matthew turned around and walked outside, repeating, “Elevated barbeque,” over and over again until we couldn’t hear him anymore.
“I’m closing the blinds,” Patrick growled and did exactly that. Then, he locked the front door before he started stalking toward me slowly.
“Patrick,” I said with a stutter. “What are you doing?”
“Christening your restaurant.” He reached me, grabbed my shirt, and lifted it over my head before dropping it to the floor.
I took a few steps back in just my bra and put my hands out in some weak attempt at stopping him. “That is not sanitary. We cannot do it in here!”
He cocked his head to the side. “Eh. We can. We’ll just stay out of the kitchen.” His voice was somewhat menacing and shouldn’t have turned me on, but it did. This was another new side to Patrick that I hadn’t been privy to. Each one was better than the last.
“Fine. But if you break it, you buy it,” I pretended to warn, but he only laughed.
“Baby, I already bought it all.”
And before I could argue any more, he was kicking off his work boots and undoing the buttons on his jeans. My eyes flew to his boxer briefs and stayed there for a second too long. I’d let my guard down. Got distracted by the giant tool in his pants.
“Like what you see, baby?”
I refused to respond.
“Where should we do it? On this table?” He put both hands there and pressed up and down real hard, checking the way it would handle the weight of us on it. “Or should I sit in this chair and let you ride me?”
He dropped down in the chair, and I swore I almost started salivating.
He grinned devilishly. “Chair it is.” He’d read my mind.
He stood up for only the amount of time that it took him to pull his briefs off before sitting right back down and staring at me. Then, he reached for his henley and tugged it over his head from the back. That action alone made me wet.
“Get on me,” he directed.
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I toed off my shoes and kicked my pants and thong to the floor. When I reached him, his hands gripped my hip bones as I straddled his body, my legs spread wide on each side of him.
One hand searched for his penis and grabbed ahold of it tightly. Patrick gasped at the contact. I led his dick toward my opening, pressing the tip there before lowering my body and gently moving him inside. I oscillated up and down, making sure there was enough lubrication before taking him fully.
“Oh God,” I moaned as soon as he was all the way inside of my body.
“Fuuuuuck,” Patrick said, dragging out the single word in such a way that it made me feel empowered.
Since I was on top, I felt like I had the control. I gyrated against him, my hips grinding in small circles as I continued to move up and down at the same time. The motion-forced sounds out of Patrick’s mouth made me want to keep doing it and never stop.
“You feel so fucking good,” he said before grabbing the back of my neck and pulling my mouth to his.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was powerful and messy and filled with passion. Our tongues clashed, our lips smashing as I kept moving on top of him with more force. Each time I slammed my pussy down, it felt like he reached a new depth inside of me, hit a different angle, or touched a new place.
It was exhilarating.
“Don’t stop, baby,” Patrick said, his eyes meeting mine, and I felt like mine were rolling in the back of my head.
I kept riding his body, my hips rolling in a way that was going to get me off. He felt so good.
“I’m going to come,” I confessed as I moved even faster against him, the friction building.
“Me too,” he admitted, his breath hot against my chest as he pulled me close.
And we stayed that way as we both came together, at the same time, our hearts racing and beating against our connected skin. Little beads of sweat poured down between my breasts as my thighs quivered.
I was satiated and content. And then the chair started to make a weird sound. Before we even knew what was happening, we were on the floor, with a broken chair splintered behind us. One of the legs had given out, and that was all it needed to not work anymore.
“Are you okay?” Patrick asked, and once I said I was fine, we lost ourselves in a fit of laughter.
“Consider the place officially christened.” I tried to steady my breathing before standing up and getting myself dressed. “Guess we have to throw this in the trash.” I pointed at the broken chair, and Patrick’s jaw dropped open.
“Not a chance in hell. This is going home with us. I’ll frame it and hang it from the wall,” he said, and I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
“You will do no such thing.” I pretended to be offended.
“Fine. But it’s going in my workshop then.”
“Where you can fix it?”
Knowing Patrick, he’d repair the damn thing, and no one would ever be the wiser.
“Hell no. Where I can marvel at the first piece of furniture we ever broke.”
I started laughing again. “The first, huh?”
“Figure there’s more to come, baby,” he teased, but I kind of looked forward to it.