Chapter 3
Noelle
Trees lined both sides of the road, tall and bare at the top with patches of snow along the ground and dips of ice in the shade.
The air outside the car looked colder than anything back home in Atlanta.
I pulled my coat tighter around me and glanced at the navigation on the screen.
The little blue dot inched closer to Winter Haven Resort.
“You ever been up here before?” the Uber driver asked. His name was Charles, an older Black man with a gray beard and a calm voice.
“No,” I said. “First time.”
“You picked a good spot,” he replied. “People come up here stressed and leave with their shoulders ten pounds lighter. You here for the holiday package?”
“Something like that,” I said.
He eyed me in the rearview mirror. “Family or solo?”
“Solo.”
He nodded. “Sometimes that’s the best way. Gives you room to hear yourself think.”
I stared out the window and let that sit.
Hearing myself think was the problem and the solution.
That was what scared me and what I knew I needed.
Another curve in the road and the resort finally came into view.
Winter Haven sat on a rise, a large stone and wood structure with warm lights in every window.
A wreath hung over the main entrance. The steps were cleared and salted.
White breath hovered in the air as people walked in and out with suitcases and scarves wrapped around their necks.
Charles pulled up under the entry. “Here we are. Winter Haven Resort. You enjoy yourself, Miss Winters.”
It took me a second to catch the name. I glanced at the app and saw the alias Bree used when she booked everything. Right. Elise Winters. I had to remember to answer to it.
“Thank you,” I said, handing him a tip. “And it’s No—Elise. But I appreciate you.”
He smiled. “Take a break for once. You look like you earned it.”
As soon as I stepped out, the cold hit me like a slap in the face. The air stung my nose and it was nothing like Atlanta weather. A tall with brown skin bell man with dreads tucked under his cap and a neat beard approached me rolling a cart, He was wearing a hotel-branded coat zipped to his chin.
“Welcome to Winter Haven,” he said. “You Elise Winters?”
“That’s me,” I answered, adjusting the strap of my carry-on.
“I’m Jamal. I’ll get your bags and walk you to check-in.”
He loaded my luggage onto the cart with quick movements.
I stepped through the front doors and warmth wrapped around me.
The lobby was wide and open with a high ceiling, stone fireplace burning in the center, and clusters of people sitting on couches with mugs in their hands.
A huge tree stood near one corner, decorated in warm whites and deep greens.
The place smelled faintly of cinnamon and wood.
For the first time in a very long time, I felt my shoulders drop a little without forcing it.
At the front desk, a woman in a navy blazer smiled at me. Her name tag read, PAIGE.
“Good afternoon. Welcome to Winter Haven. Name on the reservation?”
“Elise Winters,” I said, feeling strange and amused at the same time. I almost said Noelle Sterling out of habit. Bree had insisted on privacy when she booked it for me, claiming I needed space from work contacts and anyone who thought my vacation was an open invitation to reach out.
She typed on her keyboard and smiled. “Perfect. We have you in a king suite with a mountain view for six nights. The Winter Escape package includes breakfast, one spa service, and access to all activities. There’s a welcome mixer in the lounge tonight and a schedule of events in your room.”
“That sounds good,” I said. “I’m just here to unplug.”
“You came to the right place,” she replied. “If you need anything, dial zero from your room.”
Jamal waited nearby with my luggage and motioned toward the elevators. We rode up in comfortable silence.
“You in town from far?” he asked.
“Atlanta.”
“City girl,” he said. “You’ll sleep good up here. It stays quiet at night. Stars show out.”
“I hope so,” I said. “I could use some real rest.”
He opened the door to my suite and rolled the cart in. The room was warm and decorated with neutral colors. It held a king-size bed, a sitting area, and glass doors that opened to a balcony. Snow dusted the railing outside.
“Anything else you need before I head back down?” he asked.
“No, this is perfect,” I said, tipping him. “Thank you, Jamal.”
“Anytime. Enjoy your stay, Ms. Winters.”
I walked further in, admiring the look of luxury around me.
Cabin eight looked unreal. High-beamed ceilings, a floor-to-ceiling window that opened to the mountain view, a fireplace burning low, and the bed could easily fit three people.
The bathroom had a glass shower big enough to explore somebody’s son in.
The soaking tub sat beneath a frosted window, already calling my name.
“This was definitely worth the two-hour plane ride and forty-minute drive,” I whispered.
I tipped the bellman, locked the door, and unpacked enough to feel grounded. I hung my robe, set my toiletries out, added a soft playlist to the room, fixed my curls, touched up my makeup, and put on a coat. The night felt too peaceful to stay inside.
The bar sat near another fireplace, warm and low-lit. I slid onto a stool, easing out a long breath.
“What can I get you tonight?” the bartender asked.
“I’ll take a lemon drop. Heavy pour.”
She nodded. “You look like you need it.”
“I really do.”
While she prepared the drink, my eyes drifted across the room.
I wasn’t searching for anything. Just taking in the atmosphere, the glow, the way everyone here moved slower than the world I came from.
That was when I saw him. Damn! A man stood at the far end of the bar.
His presence hit me before my mind finished taking in the details.
He stepped into my space without even touching me, and damn…
he was fine. Tall and built like he bench pressed for a living.
His sweater clung to a wide chest and arms that looked strong enough to lift me without breaking a sweat.
His skin was a warm, smooth brown that made the firelight behind the bar hit him just right.
His beard was clean and shaped, framing a jaw that looked like it stayed clenching when he was irritated or when he was turned out.
His eyes lifted to me, slow and intentional.
They were dark, focused, and unreadable.
My kitty purred at the sight before me causing me to squeeze my thighs together.
I didn’t look away and neither did he. The room faded around us for a few seconds while we stared at each other across the bar.
Lord, this man is fine as hell! My drink hit the counter, but I didn’t even glance at it.
His eyes were still on me, and I wasn’t breaking that first.
“Anyone sitting here, sweetheart?”
An older gentleman eased onto the stool beside me. Black, mid to late fifties, silver at his temples, suit fitted just right. He smelled like cologne and bourbon.
“You are now,” I said, pushing my drink coaster over a little.
He chuckled. “I’m Raymond.”
“No—” I almost said, then caught myself. “Elise.”
He raised a brow. “You had to think about it.”
“It’s been a long day,” I deflected, taking a sip.
“You here alone?” he asked.
“For now.” I kept it short and simple.
“First time at Winter Haven?”
“Yeah. My best friend forced me to stop working and come breathe.”
“That’s a good friend,” he said. “Most people run from quiet. It tells too much truth.”
We chatted about small things like where he was from and why he was here.
He told me he was a contractor from Virginia who made it his business to come here every December, alone, to reset before the new year.
He was charming in a respectful, older-man way and I could tell that he wanted harmless conversation.
Still, my mind went back to Mr. Fine ass at the door.
I snuck a glance down the bar. He had taken a seat at the far end, profile in full view.
A presence that pulled my attention every few seconds no matter what Raymond said.
He did not look my way again, but I felt him.
I felt the chills return that he caused when we first made eye contact.
After a while, I checked the time on my phone.
The day finally caught up with me, and the tub I saw in my room earlier started calling.
“I should head up,” I said, finishing my drink. “I’ve had a long trip. I need to unpack and figure out what I signed up for.”
Raymond nodded. “Rest well, Elise. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Maybe.”
I reached for my bag and turned to the bartender. “Can I close out?” She wiped her hands on a towel and shook her head.
“You’re all set.”
I frowned. “I didn’t give you a card.”
She leaned closer. “The gentleman at the end of the bar took care of it, sweetie.” I followed her gaze to the far side. The stool he had been sitting on was empty. I scanned the room, but he was gone. No trace of his fine ass… just the faint memory of his eyes on mine.
“Damn,” I whispered under my breath. I had at least wanted to say thank you to Mr. Fine Ass. I was feeling the drink and the mountain air and I would not have minded a little harmless flirting to end my night.
“Want me to add something to your room instead?” the bartender asked.
“No, I’m good,” I said. “Tell him thank you if you see him again.”
“I will,” she replied, a small knowing smile on her face.
The minute I made it to my cabin room and closed the door behind me, the warm buzz hit me.
I tossed my coat to the side, kicked off my boots, and went straight to the bathroom.
I turned on the faucet, letting the tub fill deep and hot just how I liked it.
Steam curled up immediately. I stripped out of my clothes, my skin still tingling from the way that man looked at me.
And then it hit me. I left every single one of my sex toys at home.
“All this damn space in my suitcase… and I left the important shit,” I muttered.
I thought I wouldn’t need them. Came up here thinking I’d drink tea, journal, mind my business.
But after seeing him, my body was throbbing and begging to be touched.
I slid into the tub, the heat wrapping around me, water kissing my skin until a moan eased out my throat.
“Damn…” My legs parted under the surface before I consciously decided anything. My fingers drifted down my stomach, lower… then between my thighs. The first brush of my clit made my breath hitch.
“Oh—shit…”
I closed my eyes and instantly saw him again…
that face, that stance, those shoulders, those eyes like he’d fuck the attitude off me without raising his voice.
I could just imagine the monster he had between those bowed legs.
My fingers drew slow circles at first, but the ache hit fast. I dipped two fingers inside myself, gasping as they slid in easy, the water making everything slicker.
“Fuck… yes…”
I pumped slowly, then faster, working my thumb over my clit, water splashing with every movement of my hips. In my head, he was watching me from the edge of the tub. My hips rocked as the pleasure built fast.
“Oh my God—”
I tightened my fingers, thrusting deeper, rubbing harder, chasing that release. My legs shook under the water.
“Please… fuck…”
The orgasm hit hard, sharp, curling my toes, my back arching as heat tore through me.
I moaned loud, not caring if anyone heard, riding it until the tremors faded and I collapsed back against the tub, chest heaving.
Water rippled around me as I caught my breath.
I covered my face with my hand and laughed softly.
One night in this place and I was already in here finger fucking myself over a man I hadn’t even spoken to.
This week is about to be hell. Or fun… maybe both.