Chapter 32 Drew
DREW
Sweltering heat wakes me, and I’m nestled back against Greyson’s chest, his arm hooked around my hips, holding me to him.
I rejoice in feeling him there, but my stomach churns. I’m overheating.
I wiggle slowly out from under Greyson’s arm, sitting up and pressing my head between my knees as the room spins around me. Oh god. I’m going to be sick.
Slowing my breath down, I pull air in deep and regulate letting it out. My head is pounding, and my limbs are shaky.
Lowering my hands, the predawn darkness smothers the horizon, and the snow glows blue, hiding the Lodge in the distance.
Beautiful, but the move sends my guts back into a tizzy. I groan softly and sink back between my knees.
A warm palm rubs circles over my back.
“Hey. You doing okay?”
I smile.
Greyson.
His touch is soothing now, and he helps me upright again, crouched in front of me.
Gentle blue eyes look up into mine with such care that I melt a little.
Our foreheads press together as he rubs the back of my neck.
“Drew?”
I take another deep breath. “Just worn out a bit, I guess.”
“Mmm. My poor little firecracker.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll make you some tea.”
I nod, taking a few more lungfuls before I rub the back of my neck.
Surprisingly, my thighs and shoulders are my sorest muscles, although between my legs ache pleasantly.
Greyson appears again, brushing my hair from my face and handing me a cup of steaming tea. “It’ll help settle your stomach. Ginger, mint, honey, and lemon.”
His big hands rub down my arms as goosebumps sprout along my skin. The heat between my hands reminds me of how cold it is in the cabin.
I take a sip and feel the tea’s heat spread down my chest and warm my stomach. The sloshing waves ease, so I offer Greyson a weak smile. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ll go start a bath while you drink that. Some Epsom salt will help.”
Snickering, I lean into his touch. “At least you’re not ordering me into an ice bath.”
“No. You’ll be plenty cold simply getting back to the Lodge.” He drops another kiss to the top of my head.
I miss his presence the moment he’s out of the room. My heart races, and a new panic sets in. Will I be able to handle this? Truly? In real life?
Another wave of dizziness hits, so I take a longer sip.
I barely keep myself from spiraling by the time he returns, but at least I’ve finished my tea. Greyson returns, and I finally notice he’s only wearing his boxer shorts, his morning wood still present and proud.
He snatches up my wrists when I reach for home and lifts me to my wobbly feet.
We laugh together as he catches me by the elbows. “Come on. To the tub.”
My cheeks are red as the sheet falls away, but when I find my legs, I use the wall to walk me to the toilet first.
I don’t have the energy to blush when Greyson helps me back to my feet again before assisting me into the hot water.
I sink into the relaxation, the shock then ease of my muscles loosening.
I dunk my hair and lean back.
After a few minutes, Greyson settles behind me with some shampoo.
He doesn’t ask, he just washes my hair, rubbing my scalp and neck and shoulders until I’m a complete puddle of goo.
Then he soaps up a loofa and washes me…thoroughly.
The quick orgasm relaxes me even further.
I feel utterly pampered when he dries me off with the fluffiest towel I’ve ever seen.
I’m glad he stayed behind to take care of me.
I have the strength back to dress myself: my slacks from yesterday and one of Adam’s sweaters.
Greyson huddles around me on the trek to the Lodge, making it slower but warmer and likely safer.
It also gives me that gooey feeling again when we step inside the rear entrance.
People aren’t milling about yet.
We have a ton of unexpected guests and a party to plan for.
It’s going to be a stressful morning.
Greyson cups the back of my head and plants a soft kiss on my mouth, lingering for a couple of seconds before winking and leaving me to my own devices.
I meander to my office and find a message from my mom on my office phone.
“Hey, honey. I hope you’re okay up there, but I expect the Kincaid boys are taking care of you… Anyway, I planned to come up this morning to bake the cupcakes for the party, but the roads are impassable. Honey, everything was delivered up there days ago. I’m going to need you to do it.”
She lists out the flavors and decorations, and that funny feeling in my middle grows.
It’s a lot of work to get done for the party tomorrow.
And doing it on my own will be nearly impossible.
I listen to her message two more times to write down the list as I resign myself to the task.
Tying up my hair, I make my way to the kitchen and check the ingredients before I take a marker and start laying out the tasks.
I didn’t get to do this kind of thing a lot growing up, but I watched Mom do this all the time.
Sighing, I pull on an apron and start pulling ingredients and the scale to measure everything out.
I’m halfway through the measurements when Gabe shows up, dons an apron, and steps in beside me. “What’s on the schedule?”
I blink at him. “What? You’re going to help me?”
He pegs me with a look. “I used to help your mom in the mornings. After you left. And holidays.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Your parents struggled for a few months. In general.”
That sends a new wave of guilt through me.
“We all dealt in our own ways.”
Yeah, I ran.
Didn’t talk to barely anyone for a long while after I left.
Because Mom and Dad always wanted to talk about what happened, and I wanted to think of anything but.
We communicated through my sister for months, and I finally called Dad when Daisy told me they’d tracked Franklin down to press charges. Dad had, more specifically.
And I know I’d missed a lot, that my mom missed me like crazy—given how often she called and texted me to check in over the years, how many times I refused to come home—but Dad?
I didn’t think my leaving affected him much at all. Except for the embarrassment I must have caused. The damage to his pride.
Because none of the other girls in Pinebrook got romantically swindled by some out-of-towner while he was on vacation.
I finish the cupcake scaling and stare at the table until Gabe’s hand finds my back.
The warmth of his touch is reassuring.
Soothing.
And I want to turn into him to forget it all, but the mountain of work ahead of us is too daunting to fall apart right now.
Even if only a little bit.
“You never did tell me about what happened.”
“You never asked.” Silence as his palm smooths down my back. The heat immense. “Besides, the way people tell stories around here, I’m sure you know already.”
We share another meaningful silence as we move things around.
Gabe starts mixing the first batch of cupcakes as I prepare the pans with nonstick spray and cupcake liners.
He’s efficient and knows his way around the mixer.
I scoop the batter and put the first batch of cupcakes in the oven before starting on the fillings.
The apple compote first so that it can cool off in the fridge.
“I’d rather hear it from you.” He stops to look at me, the concern glowing in his golden-brown eyes. “I’d always rather hear it from you.”
I sigh, trying not to curl in on myself like I had done then. I’d disappeared into someone new.
Someone not quite me.
Someone I thought was wiser and worldly until it happened again. “I fell for all of the tricks in the book.”
Gabe reacts the way he always reacts—stony silence.
The glare he gives isn’t aimed at me.
I know that, so I explain in the best way I can.
“He was here visiting one of the families.” I don’t say which one. If gossip didn’t spread it, I don’t want to talk bad about a good family. It’s not their fault their friend was a jerk.
Not their fault I was so gullible.
I wash my hands and press my wet fingers to my eyes before turning back to start a spiced white chocolate ganache since it will need half the day to set up.
Once I drop the cinnamon, cardamon, and chili powder in with the hot cream and chopped chocolate, all I have to do is whisk.
Gabe’s patient, though. He doesn’t push when I’m quiet for a while. It takes me time to work through things.
“He conned me out of more than my virginity.”
He stills opposite me, muscles tightening, but his angry gaze is unfocused on the shine of the table.
When his eyes finally flick up to mine, I can read his murderous thoughts.
What could be more than my virginity?
“Our conversations were designed to get as much personal information out of me as possible.”
His shoulders roll like he already knows where this is headed but is trying to stop it by will alone.
“He downloaded the bank app, signed in as me, and transferred out the twenty-thousand dollars in my savings account.” The money I saved my whole life from babysitting, birthdays, Christmases, and working weekends at the bakery as a teenager.
It was my college fund.
My guarantee that I would get out of this town.
It still happened, but differently than I’d been dreaming of.
I didn’t do a full four-year degree.
I got an internship and went to school at night to take business and administrative classes.
Smartest thing I could do to reinvent myself.
To support myself. To prove I could do it all by myself.
I did it.
And I was miserable more often than I wasn’t.
Miserable until I got tangled up in Gabe. And Adam. And Greyson. The three of them have erased so much of the self-loathing I’ve been steeping in these last six years.
“Dad got the money back, but things were different by then. I’d made other choices.” I shrug. That’s pretty much all of it. The details are history.
Gabe is around the table, wrapping me up in his arms.
I sink into him and finally grieve the past, all the things I missed out on, what my life could have been if I’d visited at least.
His big, warm hand cups the back of my neck, and his mouth presses to the top of my head.
It’s a more grown up, intimate version of what he did for me as a kid.
Always my rock when life got tumultuous.
And this time, when I lean my head back, Gabe gives me the kiss I want before he spins me out of his arms and pats me on the butt.
It draws a smile out of me, and we dig back into the baking.
Once the cupcakes are cooled and the simple ones frosted, Gabe leaves to take care of some Lodge stuff, and I start the real decorating.
I pipe pinecones and holly and Christmas trees on the vanilla custard cupcakes, don the gingerbread tops with little cookie men and a hand-piped white chocolate snowflake, Santa macarons on the figgy pudding cakes, then break up the bacon bark and pierce the maple cupcakes.
Gabe returns as I put the last of the finishing touches on them.
I’m proud of my work.
I have more skills than Dad ever let me prove, but I was always too good at being a people pleaser up front, which meant that Dad never allowed me to show off in the back.
Even though I baked with Mom at home all the time.
She taught me a lot of smaller skills. The details. How to elevate flavor.
I might have twisted a few of her recipes in this batch because no one was here to stop me.
It was actually fun, but it’s also not something I want to do full time.
Gabe eyes the extra batch of cupcakes—the white chocolate, orange, cranberry ones with the candied orange slices and sugar frosted cranberries on top.
It won’t be a popular flavor, but it hits my palette.
“Wow, did you make your own flavor?”
“Yeah.”
He tries one, and his eyes bug. “Holy shit.”
I laugh as his head falls back and his mouth fills with the other half of the cupcake. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see this side of you again.” He cinches his arm around my waist and pulls me close. A soft kiss melts me a little.
I really like this version of my life. Of us.
“You need help getting those stored?” He’s too sweet. To me at least. I see how he grumps at other people.
“Sure. That would be great.”
Somehow, make them all fit in the fridge. It’s close though.
When Gabe leaves me to get back to work again, a new wave of nausea and dizziness hits again.
I spend too much time bent over with my forehead against the cold metal worksurface before I text Daisy.
I need a favor.