Chapter 30
KENT
Iwoke up to the sound of my phone buzzing somewhere in the darkness. For a moment, I had absolutely no idea where I was. The bed was unfamiliar. The room smelled like cinnamon and there was definitely someone else in the bed with me.
Sylvie’s place.
Fuck.
Sylvie’s place. That was a line I definitely shouldn’t have crossed. Getting personally involved with someone whose family I was supposed to be convincing to sell their property was beyond stupid. It was potentially catastrophic for everyone involved.
But what was done was done. I couldn’t take back last night, and honestly, looking at Sylvie sleeping peacefully beside me, I wasn’t sure I would if I could.
She looked like an angel in her sleep, her copper hair spread across the pillow, her face relaxed and younger somehow. Thick, long lashes, puffy lips, and the cutest little nose. I had to resist the urge to reach out and trace the line of her jaw.
It would be so easy to lean down and steal a kiss from my sleeping beauty. She would wake and I knew she would be willing to give me the morning pick-me-up I was craving. I always found sex to be a great way to start the day.
Way better than coffee.
My mind started to rationalize the idea. Since I was still in bed with her, it wasn’t like it would count as another encounter. It was still the same incident. It would still qualify as a one-night stand, right?
Because that’s what I did. I didn’t do relationships and feelings and all that shit. And I sure as hell didn’t do them with a beautiful woman whose life I was about to destroy.
But I wanted her. I could feel all that silky skin pressed against me. My cock hardened and begged to be buried inside her.
Then my phone buzzed again.
Boner killer.
I silently cursed under my breath as I pulled away from her, trying not to wake her. I searched for my clothes in the dim light. I found my pants crumpled on the floor where I’d stripped them off the night before, my phone still in the pocket.
I struggled to pull on my boxers and made my way out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind me before answering the call.
“Kent.” Hudson’s voice was crisp and businesslike, even though it was barely eight in the morning.
“What?” I hissed.
“What the hell are you doing up there?”
“Please tell me you did not call me at eight o’clock to ask me what I’m doing. I’m not five. What the fuck do you think I’m doing?”
It was one thing to wake me up. It was another to act as a cock block and that was exactly what he did. I did not like being treated like I was a colossal fuck-up. I wasn’t him. I wasn’t doing anything that would get me or anyone else killed.
“I’m the one tasked with checking up on you,” he said. “So, what the hell? What are you doing and why aren’t you home?”
“Because I’m a grown man and I don’t have to check in and I haven’t had a curfew in fifteen fucking years.”
“You woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Look, Dad’s called every one of us trying to find out what you’re doing. He said you’re not answering his calls. He expects a full value assessment by end of day tomorrow. You were supposed to have this wrapped up by now. What are you doing out there, chasing tail like always?”
The accusation hit closer to home than I wanted to admit. “No,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than I’d intended.
Hudson laughed, a sound with no humor in it. “Like hell you aren’t. I can hear it in your voice.”
“You can’t hear shit.”
“Man, I know you. I know who I used to be. You’re with a woman right now, aren’t you?”
I could deny it. He wouldn’t believe me. Instead, I chose to exercise my right to remain silent.
“Shit, Kent, you’re supposed to be working, not playing house with some small-town girl. Get the job done and fuck around after. Dad told me he’s done supporting your lifestyle. You have to pull this off, little brother. I know you can do it. Stop fucking around.”
The line went dead, leaving me standing half-naked in Sylvie’s living room with the taste of guilt bitter in my mouth.
That was a sobering reminder of my actual priorities, wasn’t it? And what had I just done? I’d gone and slept with the woman whose family my father was planning to steamroll. The woman who thought I was here to help save her business when I was actually here to destroy it.
I was so lost in my self-recrimination that I didn’t hear Sylvie approach until she cleared her throat behind me.
I spun around and nearly choked on my own tongue.
She was wearing my dress shirt from the night before.
Nothing else, just my shirt. It fell to mid-thigh on her smaller frame.
I knew with absolute certainty that she was naked underneath.
Her legs were bare, her feet bare, all smooth skin and curves that made every rational thought flee my brain.
“Morning,” she said with a smile that was both shy and mischievous. “Coffee?”
She padded to the kitchen without waiting for an answer.
I watched her move with the fluid grace of someone completely comfortable in her own skin.
The shirt rode up slightly as she reached for the coffeemaker.
I got a glimpse of that perfect ass. I had to grip the back of the sofa to keep from grabbing her and fucking her on the counter.
It would be so easy. I could lose the boxers in a second and be buried inside her slick heat.
That’s what I wanted. I didn’t want fucking coffee.
“Sleep well?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder with a teasing smile.
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to tell her that I had slept better than I had in months, that waking up next to her had felt more right than anything in my life ever had. Instead, I heard myself saying, “I have to go.”
The words came out harsher than I’d intended, and I watched the light in her eyes dim slightly.
“Go where?” she asked, still trying to maintain that playful tone even though I could see the hurt creeping in around the edges.
“Home. New York. I need to get that offer drawn up, remember?”
“Oh.” She turned back to the coffeemaker, but her movements had lost their easy confidence. “When are you coming back?”
“After I get the deal structured.”
I knew I was being cold, knew I was hurting her feelings, but Hudson’s call had reminded me of exactly how much I stood to lose if I didn’t get my head back in the game. My trust fund, my lifestyle, my place in the family, all of it depended on me doing what I’d been sent here to do.
“Can I have my shirt back?” I asked, hating myself for the way my voice sounded.
Sylvie turned to face me, and for a moment I saw something vulnerable flash across her features. Then her expression hardened. Anger.
“Of course,” she said coolly.
Without breaking eye contact, she reached up and began unbuttoning my shirt. Slowly. Deliberately. When she shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, she stood there completely naked in the morning light streaming through her kitchen window.
She was breathtaking. Absolutely fucking breathtaking. And the casual way she looked at me, like her nudity was just another Tuesday morning occurrence, made me want to forget everything Hudson had said and pull her back to bed.
Instead, I picked up the shirt and pulled it on, my fingers fumbling with the buttons.
She turned around and went back to making her coffee, naked as the day she was born.
And fuck me, her body. She was tone and lean. Her ass was so fucking perky. My fingers twitched with the need to touch her. My cock was straining against my boxers. And my heart was trying to claw out of my chest.
I walked back to her bedroom and quickly pulled on the rest of my clothes.
I felt like a complete jackass. I should try and talk to her but I couldn’t.
It was too tempting. I would want to stay and that was not an option.
It was better if we put some distance between us.
I had to take a giant step back and get my head straight.
I walked out of her bedroom to find her still nude and sipping coffee.
She wouldn’t look at me. I got it. I pissed her off. Went too far.
“Lock the door on your way out,” Sylvie said. She carried her coffee mug and headed back toward her bedroom, not looking at me again. The door slammed and that was that.
I stood there for a long moment after she disappeared, staring at the closed bedroom door and wondering how I managed to fuck everything up so spectacularly in the span of a single phone call.
But Hudson had been right. I had a job to do, and I’d let myself get distracted by a pretty face and small-town charm. Time to remember who I really was and what I was really here for.
Even if it meant walking away from the best night I’d had in years.
The cold air hit me like a slap in the face as I descended the stairs from Sylvie’s apartment, which was exactly what I needed to clear my head.
My breath fogged in front of my face as I let out a long exhale.
I pulled my coat tighter around myself, the frigid December morning doing nothing to improve my already foul mood.
I spotted Brom in the distance near the tree farm, and my pace immediately quickened. The last thing I needed was Sylvie’s protective big brother seeing me skulking away from his sister’s place at eight in the morning, looking like I’d been thoroughly worked over. Which, to be fair, I had been.
I kept my head down and moved fast, hoping to slip past unnoticed. Thankfully, Brom seemed absorbed in whatever he was doing with the Christmas decorations scattered around the area. I managed to make it to the lodge’s front entrance without him spotting me.
The moment I stepped inside, the smell of bacon and coffee hit me like a warm embrace.
My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since the party last night.
Families were milling about the living area, some standing in front of the fire while sipping coffee.
Others had plates and were enjoying what smelled an awful lot like fresh cinnamon rolls.
Damn, I was fucking starving.
“Morning, honey!” an older woman’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Grab yourself a plate and dig in. There’s plenty.”
I assumed it was Sylvie’s mother, though I hadn’t been formally introduced yet.
The casual warmth in her voice made something twist uncomfortably in my chest. Here was this woman, welcoming me into her family’s home, treating me like I belonged, when I was here to destroy everything she’d spent her life building.
I felt like a complete fraud, but my growling stomach overruled my guilt. I grabbed a plate from the stack she’d indicated and loaded it with bacon, scrambled eggs, and what looked like homemade biscuits. The food smelled incredible, nothing like the catered breakfasts I was used to back home.
“Thank you,” I called toward the kitchen, then practically fled upstairs to my room before anyone could engage me in conversation.
I couldn’t handle small talk right now. Not after Hudson’s call and definitely not after the way I’d just treated Sylvie.
I locked my door behind me and sat heavily on the bed, staring at the plate of food that suddenly didn’t look nearly as appealing. Everything about this place was making it impossible to remember why I was really here.
But I had to remember. Because Hudson was right, and my father’s deadline was looming. I couldn’t afford to let my dick make decisions for my brain anymore.
No matter how incredible last night had been.