Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WIN
I can’t believe he let me sleep so long. I had so many dirty plans. Snowbound for an entire night with Michael and, other than that glorious meal followed by sex that rocked me to the foundations of my cynical soul, I missed it.
Okay, I woke up at some point to his mouth on my cock and thrilled him with my eager and simultaneous reciprocation before falling asleep again, but still.
I’d already napped for four hours, so sleeping another—I glance at the clock on the wall— eleven ?
Seriously? That’s absolutely unheard of for me.
“We’ve already established your dad isn’t an assassin, so he wouldn’t drug me,” I tell the dogs as I lift each one to give them a snuggle while eyeing the kitchen island laden with food.
“That walk through the snow and the orgasms must have taken more out of me than I thought, that’s all.
But we still have time since the weather hasn’t let up completely yet. ”
I just said that. Even crazier? I meant it. I’m glad I’m still stuck here. At least for another few hours.
It isn’t every day I get to fall asleep beside someone like Michael and wake up to the kind of breakfast I’ve only seen in movies. I notice my phone beside an empty plate, along with a note that says my current bed buddy is chopping more firewood and will be back soon.
“Damned overachiever,” I mumble, snapping a few pictures of the meal before sitting down and stuffing my mouth with bacon and French toast made from actual French bread.
I’m pretty sure that other plate has the prettiest eggs on it that have ever been poached.
And I’m going to eat all of it, I think, humming a song from Oliver as I chow down. “Food, glorious food.”
It smells just as good as it tastes. I, however, smell less than appetizing.
Sweating in the woods followed by multiple orgasms is not a good cologne for me.
After this is over, I might have to brave the stairs to get to the shower.
I really do feel better after my deep sleep.
That and great sex is a healing combination. Now I just need to get clean.
As soon as I’m sated, I take a sip of what tastes like freshly squeezed orange juice and finally check my phone.
I think I hesitated last night because I was enjoying my fantasy break from reality, but I feel the smallest twinge of guilt when I see it’s filled with voice messages and texts from two very worried friends.
Connor’s are pretty funny.
Connor: I know you’re in your room, Winnie. Where else would you be in this weather? Are you mad I stole your stone massage? I needed it. Is your phone on silent?
Ten minutes later…
Connor: The housekeeper let me in because I remind her of her grandson.
Connor: Your phone is missing but your clothes are all over the floor, so I know you didn’t run away to a warm island full of naked men the way you’re always threatening to. Where the hell are you?
One minute later…
Connor: Val and Bex are calling now. They never call me. They call you, but you’re not answering. Can you please get back here and save me? I’m really worried, man.
He sent another text less than an hour later.
Connor: I talked to the guy you’re shacked up with now. Tanaka said you’re two miles away in a cabin with a generator and food and a trustworthy friend. You dog. You got lost in a freak blizzard and wound up hooking up with one of Batman’s buddies?
I hadn’t planned on it, but yes. That’s exactly what happened. I snicker, though I’m blushing like a tween girl.
Connor: You’re not responding, but who else am I going to talk to now that Kate is circling me like a shark?
A really hot redheaded shark. Can I say that?
I mean, they were only fake dating, which no one told me about until they were fake broken up.
She keeps asking about Bex and Val’s living situation.
I told her they’re like the Odd Couple now, but not in a good way.
It made her laugh. Should I have said they were dating so she’d be real jealous over her fake ex? I suck at this and I hate it.
I love that adorkable man. I can’t stop laughing. And then I see something really interesting.
Connor: The sweet doll who works at the front desk said you mentioned me before you left, so I forgive you for putting yourself in danger by being an idiot.
Connor: She likes Jason Statham movies and steak, her name is Veronica and I’m buying her a drink as we speak.
She’s stuck at the lodge, so I’m thinking of offering her your room in the suite.
If you were here, I could get your advice on this so I don’t come off as a creeper, but I have a feeling you’d approve. I really like her.
“Yes!” I pump my fist in the air and the M&Ms bark excitedly.
I am fully aware that it’s weird to be this excited every time Connor has the possibility of finding a good woman. But after his childhood, which in some ways was more of a mindfuck than mine, he deserves to be a worthy someone’s husband.
The problem is, he’s always in locker rooms or at sporting events and doesn’t believe in online dating or my type of hooking up. Connor is old fashioned, but in a “Future World’s Greatest Dad” kind of way.
At first, I thought he’d find someone at work, but the women filling the bleachers during middle school sporting events are mostly harried moms, doting grandmothers, and sisters of team members that are too experienced with Instagram makeup tutorials for me to determine whether or not they’re age appropriate to fix up with my roomie.
Finding him a girlfriend is a difficult and often thankless job, which might explain why I’m really rooting for Front Desk Veronica.
Me: I’m alive and well, just a twisted ankle to show for my adventures. I hope you let her sleep in my room. Or your room, in case you remembered that you’re over thirty and that was an option. I’ll talk to you later. You should see if she wants to have breakfast with you. I bet she’d say yes.
With that out of the way, I get to my feet, walk to the window and stare out at the swirling snow I’m still oddly unbothered by while I call Bex.
“You better have a good reason for not calling me last night.”
“Happy Saturday to you too, and I was mostly unconscious.” I’m not above reminding her I was injured to soften her ire. “Because of the whole lost and frozen in the woods for hours situation.”
“They said you were okay. Were they lying?”
“I’m fine, I swear. Some scrapes and a lecture from Connor in my future about the right footwear, but otherwise, I’m surprisingly good.”
“He told me you lucked your way to some guy’s cabin. And when Seamus Finn described him for me, I thought he might be the one at the bar that night. The guy you disappeared with after your song.”
“Rebecca Asher Gordon. You called him in the middle of his parents’ anniversary weekend to get intel? During a blizzard?” I lean my forehead against the cold window. “You could have waited for me to tell you.”
“You can be protective but I can’t return the favor?
I needed to know you weren’t in danger. We’re halfway there, by the way.
It was slow going last night, but Val’s truck is built for this kind of thing.
We’re currently at a bed and breakfast one town over with the band you were supposed to play with. They’ve been very entertaining.”
She left Val’s house? Except for doctor appointments, she hasn’t done that in months. “I didn’t mean to worry you that badly.”
“Yeah, well, you did. I shouldn’t have pushed you to go there in the first place. And the whole time you were gone, I went stir crazy, wondering what you and Connor were doing. Val actually suggested coming before we heard about the snowstorm, which means I’ve been driving him crazy too.”
Once again, the V man has the perfect opportunity to spend time with her alone and wastes it. Heavy sigh. What am I going to do with that knucklehead? “And here I thought you’d be happy to have a little space after months of slumber-partying.”
“There are only so many books I can read and so much hovering I can stand. I need to get back to my life again. I thought we’d come to check on you and support your fifteen minutes of singing fame.”
“Hah.”
“And while we’re there, I can tell Kate to back off and have a talk with Tanaka about temporarily returning to my old job. The one that doesn’t require trying to be something I’m not, or having knives aimed in my general direction.”
I close my eyes and thank whoever is listening. “I love that idea, Bex.”
“I just have to convince my uncle he needs to hire someone else before I leave to try something new.”
Okay, I really wasn’t expecting her to say that. “You… Something new? As in, you won’t be working with him or Ken Tanaka anymore?”
“I don’t know yet. Probably not.” She’s drawn a line with her voice. She doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. “So you were saved by the pub beast?”
While she was recovering, I told her about what happened that night because I was drowning in guilt over the fact that I’d been enjoying myself in a back room instead of keeping an eye on her.
Using humor to describe our hookup fail and a lot of dragon imagery, I made her laugh, which was what I was going for.
She wasn’t the least bit upset. “No one could have seen that coming, except for my boss. And even he didn’t know.
I suppose there’s a first time for everything. ”
It’s not easy when your heroes let you down. She believed Tanaka was invincible and infallible. So did I.
Still reeling over the possibility of her job change, I give her the basics of everything that’s happened since I stepped into the topiary garden.
She oohs and ahhs and omgs at the appropriate places…
until I get to his name. She isn’t surprised about that tidbit at all.
Apparently, a Michael Demir did some work with her boss before and was listed in his contact files as related to Bellamy.
“I thought he was a cousin, not a secret brother,” she finishes, leaving me shaking my head.
“They both worked for the same company and had the same father. I still can’t get my head around how they never accidentally ran into each other in the hall or something.”
“That company is a monster, Winnie. Not a single building. They have a lot of irons in a lot of different fires. Stocks, R and D, financial management, real estate, lobbying and occasionally a little espionage. Though the shadier aspects of the Demir holdings will probably disappear now that Bellamy’s in charge of being more than just a pretty face.
But while his father was alive, it was the usual secretly-run-the-world business model for people with that kind of money.
” She snorts. “Rich people are oddly not that big on original thinking.”
“Rich people suck.”
“Do they?” Bex asks slyly. “Your new boyfriend is probably swimming in endless waterfalls of money alongside the rest of his family. Does he suck, Win? You can tell me.”
Yes, he does. Spectacularly.
“No comment.” I stare harder out the window, through the snow, toward the stump where a pile of firewood is neatly stacked and ready to be brought inside.
I don’t see him anywhere. He must be in that garage he told me about.
“Michael isn’t like that. He doesn’t work for them anymore. He’s…different.”
You keep using that word. You should try another one.
When Bex hums, I roll my eyes. “What?”
“Nothing. I’ve just never heard that tone in your voice before.
Not unless you’re talking about a new musical or the latest scholarly analysis of our illustrious founding documents.
You really like him, don’t you? And to clarify, I’m talking about him as a person, not his potential kinks or acrobatics in the bedroom.
” She pauses for effect. “Though I wouldn’t mind hearing about those either.
I just finished a book that was insane and I’d like some proof that men in real life couldn’t possibly be that well endowed or flexible.
I’d kill for a funny Winnie hookup story right about now.
Give me the sequel to Winnie’s Dragon Disaster. ”
I feel strangely protective. My time in Michael’s arms is not something I’m sure I want to share with Bex for a laugh. It’s private.
What in your life has ever been private from your friends?
Just this.
“The only story is that he saved me and is letting me crash here for the duration,” I finally tell her. “Why wouldn’t I like him for that? But that’s all this is. A friendly rescue and close quarters due to inclement weather.”
“If you could see my face right now, you would crumble under the enormity of the disbelief and side eye I’m throwing your way. We can try to FaceTime if a visual would help.”
“I’m good.”
“You like him.”
I groan. “We’re not twelve, Bex. And it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. I barely know him.”
That doesn’t ring true after everything we shared yesterday. After months of daydreams and the way he woke me up last night. I feel like I know him. I like him. More than I should. And if I stay on this call any longer, I might admit it out loud. I can’t let that happen.
“I need to let the dogs out,” I lie. “I’ll call you later.”