Chapter 2
By the time I’d made my way back up to my room after my treatments I was more relaxed than I remembered being in a long time.
I wasn’t back in my room five minutes when Catie texted to tell me I was meeting her and Kyle for a romantic dinner for three in an hour.
When Catie asked me to come with them on this trip, I knew she’d extended the invitation because she was worried about me.
She thought I needed a break from life and since she and Kyle never relaxed more than they did on Winterhaven, she thought the place would work wonders for me.
I agreed because why not? But now that I was here, I was concerned about cramping their style and worried Catie and Kyle hadn’t thought about how having me along would interrupt their much-needed alone time.
Before I could text back to tell her I had other plans for the evening she texted again.
We want you there. No excuses. Dinner. An hour. Don’t make me haul my arse up to your fancy suite Xx
I laughed because my friend knew me so well and also because she’d been jokingly grumbling about my suite since I booked it. She and Kyle had a standard room a few floors below me but I knew she didn’t really care I was in a suite. Catie just loved to tease me whenever the opportunity arose.
Wouldn’t dream of it. See you in an hour. Xx
The restaurant in the inn was pretty nice.
Catie told me the food was great and that locals booked tables there for special occasions so it was always busy.
I was that girl that looked semi-dressed up no matter the event because I adored fashion and high heels.
That night I decided on a high-waist forest green pencil skirt and a dark gold silk top with short art deco beaded sleeves that draped delicately over my shoulders; it showed lots of collarbone and a hint of cleavage.
When I tucked the top into the skirt the whole ensemble accentuated my curves.
I added gold strappy sandals, decided against jewelry, and wore my long auburn hair how I normally wore it: down in beachy waves that almost touched my lower back.
Grabbing the forest green clutch I’d bought with the skirt, I gave myself one more look in the mirror.
Pencil skirts were so on trend right now.
Usually Italian designers had them in their shows every year but they were on runways all over the globe this year and I for one loved they’d made a big comeback.
There was nothing more flattering than a pencil skirt.
Not caring if I was overly dressed up because that was just me, I strode out of my room wondering if I should add “something in fashion” to my list of possible career options.
I’d enjoyed shopping for Skylar when she first started working with my brother.
Killian had worried I’d force my style onto her when he asked me to buy her new clothes but I found I gauged her personal style pretty well and was able to advise her accordingly.
Once we helped her gain weight and get healthy again, I took her shopping.
Skylar always looked tricked out. She managed to be sexy, alternative rocker girl whether she was in jeans and a tee or a tight black dress.
But that was just Skylar. The woman exuded an undeniable amount of charisma.
It was one of the reasons the paparazzi and her fans were so obsessed with her.
I couldn’t take credit for that but I could take credit for some of the cute items in her current wardrobe.
Stylist? Hmm. I’d put that on the list even though it sounded incredibly unrealistic. It would be a fun career though. Or maybe I’d get bored.
Och, I didn’t know.
I’d think about it in the morning because it would only stress me out before dinner.
The restaurant was on the same floor as my suite so it didn’t take me long to wander down the corridor to it.
When I got there Catie and Kyle still hadn’t arrived so the host led me to the bar, where I slipped onto a stool to wait for them.
I gazed around the restaurant. It was contemporary but warm in its use of natural materials and mixed metals.
As Catie had already warned me it was packed with people.
She and Kyle had booked us a table for dinner every night before our arrival but I wasn’t planning on joining them every night.
They needed alone time at some point. And although I could see larger groups dining out together there was a romantic feel about the place.
Between the soft lighting and the huge, wide windows at the back of the restaurant that provided a fabulous view over the ski hill, it was definitely a perfect place to be with someone you wanted to flirt with over dinner.
“What can I get you?”
I turned at the male voice and found the bartender, a guy around my age, smiling at me. “Oh. A glass of your house red, please.”
“Well, I’d know that Scottish accent anywhere,” a deep, familiar voice uttered behind me and I turned slightly and felt my stomach dip as the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life slid onto the stool next to mine.
Even though I hadn’t seen all of his face this morning I knew who he was.
Hudson Ward. The instructor I’d kneed in the ’nads.
Oh my God.
Holy Moly…
And now I was staring.
But in all fairness he was staring intensely back at me and with the most delicious blue eyes. He had thick dark brown hair that he left just long enough to curl at the nape of his neck.
Then there were those eyes. A rich cobalt blue framed with not long but thick, black lashes.
As for his face with his cut cheekbones, wide, square jaw, and full mouth, he was the picture of masculine beauty. If it weren’t for the slight crook in his nose that suggested it had been broken at some point, his unshaven face, and his imposing build, he might have been too perfect.
But he wasn’t. He was gorgeous with an edge.
He had faint laughter lines around his eyes and I guessed him at around my brother’s age—about thirty years old or so.
He wore a black dress shirt open at the collar and black suit trousers.
There was no part of his outfit that said “I’m trying” and he looked effortlessly hot.
Between his immense attractiveness and the fact that I’d embarrassed myself in front of him I felt unusually defensive. “May I help you?”
He seemed not in the least perturbed by my tone. Instead he turned to the bartender. “A red for the lady, a beer for me.”
“You got it.” The bartender wandered off to do as bid.
Hudson’s lips curled up at the corners as he angled his body toward mine. “You’re the girl who flattened me today.”
“One, I’m a woman, not a girl.”
His lids lowered as his gaze dipped down my body and leisurely back up again in a way that forced me to hide a shiver of desire.
What. The. Hell.
“Two”—I was pretty sure my voice now sounded hoarse—“I don’t weigh enough to flatten you. Have you seen you?”
When he returned his gaze to my eyes there was a heat in his he didn’t bother hiding. “You’re right. Poor choice of words.”
Unsure how to deal with his blatant interest considering he was the sexiest man I’d ever met and I definitely had not come to Colorado for a fling, I willed the bartender to come back.
In fact, I willed Catie and Kyle to hurry the heck up.
“I don’t get it,” Hudson said.
“Get what?”
“I was around the other side of the bar, saw you walk in. Didn’t know you were the woman from today.
You glide across the restaurant in a pair of sky-high heels like you’re barefooted.
No way, you walking in here with all that grace, I’d know you were the woman that took me out on the slopes today. ”
My cheeks burned, not only at his compliment but at his teasing. “I’m not good on skis,” I replied through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I got that.” He grinned.
God, even his grin, slightly crooked like his nose, was bloody sexy. Not fair, Universe! My staring at him like an idiot made his smile disappear. His eyes narrowed slightly. “You waiting on someone?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly, even though I suspected he was asking if I was waiting on a man.
His gaze fell to my left hand and I knew he was looking for a ring. When he found none our eyes locked again. His expression was altogether too soft and too hot. “What’s your name, angel?”
I didn’t know why I gave it to him. I shouldn’t have. “Autumn.”
His lips parted as he studied my face and hair. Voice hoarse, he said, “Fuck, that’s perfect.”
There was something almost reverent in his tone that made my spine straighten. “And you’re Hudson?”
“That I am.”
The bartender returned. “Wine. Beer.”
“My tab,” Hudson replied as he gently pushed the wine toward me and took his beer.
“Oh no, I’ll pay for my own drink.”
“No way.” Hudson shook his head at the bartender and the guy walked off to serve someone else.
I stared at my wine, uncertain if it came with a whole bunch of strings attached to it.
“It’s just a drink, Autumn.”
“I’m not…” I looked him directly in the eyes. “I’m not here to hook up or get involved with anyone.”
“You got a man?”
“No. And I’m not looking for one.”
Hudson leaned into me and I got a whiff of delicious, spicy, musky, masculine cologne that made me want to press my face into his throat.
Fuck.
“Take the drink.”
“No strings attached to it, right?” I curled my fingers around the stem of the wineglass.
Those blue eyes held me utterly captive as he replied, “Woman, you’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Take the drink or leave the drink, I’m not going anywhere until you say you’ll have dinner with me.”
My breath caught at the epic compliment. He sounded so sincere I wanted to believe him. Yet, he wasn’t the first man to tell me I was beautiful (although admittedly he was the first to say it like that!) and I somehow always ended up getting hurt after it got them what they wanted.
“I can’t.” Even I heard how unsure I sounded.
“You have to.” He gave me a teasing smile. “Or I’m going to pine. I’m going to pine hard.”