Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
“ A lrighty, looks like there are two beds.”
Nate peered around Stella, needing to confirm the news with his own two eyes, and he swore he heard the “Hallelujah” chorus.
“That’s good.” He kept his voice even, totally void of any emotion. No inclination to the fact that they wouldn’t be sharing a bed was anything of interest to him. Seeing as he’d just endured the longest elevator ride of his life, this was newsworthy of a happy dance.
The two of them had entered the elevator first, and he’d apparently missed the announcement that the lodge was shooting for a world record to see how many people they could fit in the steel tube. The more people that entered, the more points if his body touched hers. “Scooch closer,” she’d said, her delectable scent equal parts intoxicating and alluring. She smelled like a marshmallow freshly pulled from the fire, its sweet aroma impossible to resist even though you knew it was too hot to eat and that it would be incredibly messy as well. Which was exactly what this situation had become…messy. Especially since he’d vowed to himself to not touch her—a task he was failing miserably at.
But thank goodness they didn’t have to share a bed.
He stepped into the room, blowing out a puff of air as his eyes confirmed once again the number of beds. A large television sat at the far end of the room with wide windows behind it, offering a stunning view of the bold fall foliage showing off on the hillside. A door led to a balcony where he figured he’d spend a lot of his time for two reasons: the view out there was breathtaking…and so was the one inside.
“Are you going to unpack?” Stella asked, throwing open the top of her luggage as she pulled cozy-looking sweaters and socks from the case.
“Yeah. Good idea.” He tossed his duffel bag on the opposite bed and pulled three shirts and a pair of jeans from it. Was this all he’d brought? He glanced over to her, humming a jaunty tune as she unfolded a pair of pants and hung them in the closet. She did a little skippy thing with her feet as she sashayed back to her suitcase, humming a jaunty little tune as she did so. She reached for another article of clothing that had—was that straw hanging off it?
How was she this relaxed? This was so much like the night he’d watched her dance in her office before she punched him. And since he apparently hadn’t learned his lesson that night, he couldn’t help but watch. He wished he was that carefree, but no. He was on a couple’s trip, not in a couple, but sharing a room with a woman who made his stomach do gravity-defying things. Why couldn’t he have been as unbothered as she was?
Wait…why was she unbothered? After all, she was being forced to share a room with him.
His hand stopped halfway to his bag. “Did you know about this?”
She looked up at him, frozen, her brows nearly meeting in the center of her forehead. “Uh…about the trip? I mean, I’m here, aren’t I?”
He chuckled as he shook his head, though he didn’t know where the chuckle had come from because his muscles felt as pliable as granite for all the tension that rolled through his body. He was still recovering from that elevator ride. “That’s not what I meant. Did you know that we’d be sharing a room?”
She lowered her hands, and he watched what looked like the softest sweater in the world pool onto the bed. “I had a hunch, but no. I didn’t know they’d take it this far.”
“Take what this far?”
Her lips twisted, like she was chewing on her words to see how they tasted before she spoke. All that did was draw attention to an area of her body he wanted to get closer to. So, naturally, he took a step back…right into the wall.
“I still think my cousin and your brother are trying to play matchmaker. In fact, I know they are.”
He splayed his hands wide, flexing them to relieve some of the excess energy that pulsed through him, because he’d figured that too. But after his chat with Eric at the driving range, he thought he’d made himself clear. “Well, that’s ridiculous.”
“Agreed,” she responded with a tiny snort. If Nate was honest, her blunt dismissal of the notion caused his stomach to clench as tightly as his fists, which was all the more reason they needed separate beds—and probably separate rooms. “But you realize they’re never gonna stop, right?”
“Stop what?”
“Trying to set us up. I know Lucy. When she gets an idea in her head, she sees it through to the end.”
He knew that about her too. Usually, she used this determination for good. Like the canned food drive she organized every fall at the fire station. But this? No good could come from this. Eric was a blockhead, so he obviously couldn’t get through to him. But Lucy had to know what a bad idea this was. She knew what kind of person—er, creature—he was.
“Well, I’ll see to it that this stops.” He pushed off the wall, striding to the door like a man on a mission.
“Unless…”
He paused in the middle of the room, the sing-song way she said the word piquing his curiosity. Her eyes sparkled with something that should have made him move faster out that door if for no other reason than that he found her eyes irresistible. Hypnotic, even. A surefire way to scramble his brain and get him to agree to whatever she was about to propose.
“We could give the people what they want.”
Except that. Her eyes weren’t that great. But he trained his sights on the floor just in case he was wrong.
“No. I’m not… What are you even suggesting?”
“That we lean into this.”
Nope. No way. Nuh-uh. He thought about the last time he leaned into something, and it was her in the elevator. He could still smell her. But that was because he was standing toe to toe with her now. “We can’t… I can’t date you.”
“Of course not, silly,” she said as she pushed his chest. He didn’t miss the way it lingered there a beat longer than warranted before she pulled it away. “I just mean that we could fake it. Pretend that we’re together. That we’ve been quietly dating for a while now but didn’t want to say anything to take away from the wedding.”
Nate’s head shook like a bobblehead in an earthquake. “That’s…that’s a terrible idea.”
She raised her chin. “Give me one good reason why.”
One? He could have given her a million, most of them winding their way to the inevitable ending with either him getting hurt or her ending up dead. Not that he could tell her that. He also couldn’t tell her that he’d had a crush on her from the moment he walked into the salon. And like the smell of the coloring products she put on her clients, it got stronger and stronger the more time passed.
“You’re my boss,” he said, giving the most obvious reason and burying the others down deep.
“So? There aren’t any policies about that.”
“There aren’t? Well, that seems like something I should bring up with management.”
Her lips quivered. She was enjoying this, wasn’t she? She was getting a little kick out of seeing this side of him. The side that was unnaturally flustered and not at all in control. A side he never let anyone see. “Management says it’s okay, especially since two employees are getting married this week, and everything at the salon is still hunky-dory. And also…I’m management.”
“Well, this plan of yours won’t work. I’m not that good an actor.” Clearly, because acting like he wasn’t at least somewhat interested in Stella wasn’t going as swimmingly as he’d hoped. He took another step back.
“I get it.” She shrugged and walked back to her side of the room to continue unpacking. “You find the mere idea of dating me as appealing Snickers bars.”
He paused for a second, mentally facepalming himself for the lie he’d told a few weeks ago. Back when she’d been eating fun-sized Snickers bars with Lucy and offered him one.
She shrugged. “I’ll just sit here and lick my wounds.” Suddenly, the thought of her licking anything was enough to make sweat prick the back of his neck. Because it reminded him of when she’d been eating the Snickers, ribbons of caramel clinging to her lips, which she’d licked in a way that made him swallow hard. That was why he’d said he hated the candy when she’d offered him a piece, even though it was his favorite. He declined because he needed to get away from her. Because she found ways to grab his attention with even the most mundane actions.
And that was the precise reason he couldn’t pretend to date her.
“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom,” he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder as he snatched a change of clothes, leaving a trail of smoke behind him as he darted into the bathroom and shut the door. He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly, attempting to cool the warmth that had spread throughout his body. Werewolves typically ran a little on the warmer side, but right now, he felt like someone standing too close to a fire—one he had no idea how to put out. And he needed to put it out. As he rubbed his temples, he glimpsed himself in the large, lighted mirror, noting the wideness of his eyes. He looked like a crazed lunatic. Like someone out of control.
Like he probably did whenever he shifted.
That thought was the bucket of ice water he needed to snap him back to reality. Stella wasn’t for him. He knew that. He’d always known that. From the moment he’d walked into Hairy Stylez and applied for the job, there’d been something about her that made his insides ache.
She was beautiful, no doubt. But her smile…there was nothing like it. For as surly as he usually was, she softened him. And that needed to stop because, after all, he was a protector. And the best way he could protect her was to not get too close. Except, they were currently sharing a room.
He splashed some water on his face, not sure how long he’d been in the bathroom. Probably long enough for Stella to think she shouldn’t enter it for at least a half hour. Wonderful. They’d been roommates for less than five minutes, and he was already a bad one. He peeled his sweat-soaked shirt off his body, cringing as he caught a whiff of himself.
“That’s…ripe,” he muttered as he reached for a washcloth. He held it under the faucet and brought it to his chest, his shoulders dropping as the cold cloth met his warm, clammy skin. Thoughts of his beautiful roommate floated out of his mind until?—
“Aaah!”
His head snapped up at the sound of Stella’s scream, his protective instincts ramping up. He tore open the bathroom door and swooped down next to her kneeling by her suitcase. His eyes roved her body, looking for blood, broken bones, any sign of injury—not that he could have done anything to help her.
“What happened?” he asked, out of breath, his head mere inches from hers.
“My…sweater,” she began, her eyes on the luggage in front of her. “The zipper caught it and…” The sentence died on her tongue as her eyes lifted and then lowered…and then lifted quickly back up to…definitely not his face…as a redness crawled up her neck.
“Oh.” He easily loosened the sweater from the zipper’s teeth. “Everything’s fine now.”
He grimaced when he thought about how the past thirty seconds probably looked from her perspective. Him barging in like he was saving her from a life-or-death situation. He rose from the floor, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head, feeling like a moron for his theatrics.
“Uh-huh,” she said and then swallowed. “Everything is…fine.” He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and wondered how long it had been since she blinked. Why wasn’t she blinking? “You… I didn’t hear the shower running. Did you, uh, shower…while you were in there?”
He rubbed the base of his neck and narrowed his eyes. “Did I shower?” he repeated, not following her train of thought—until he followed her eyes. Right to his bare chest. In all the commotion, he’d forgotten he was shirtless...and wet. “No, I didn’t shower. I was just freshening up before I changed.”
“Yeah. That’s a good idea. I should do that too. Best to be fresh!” she rattled off, her head moving every which way but on him. Was he making her uncomfortable? He crossed his arms over his chest to cover his body, but that seemed to make things worse, judging from the crimson color spreading over her cheeks and now her neck. “You know…I should go. I could really use a pec—a perk!” She squinted her eyes closed and shook her head. “I could use a perk , something to perk me up! I’m going to go get a drink. Coffee, not alcohol. Just a hot…hot…coffee! Yep, that should do the trick.” And before he could say a word, she bolted to the door.
She’d said she didn’t want alcohol, but the way she staggered out of their room made it look like she’d thrown back quite a few already. Was she that uncomfortable around him? If so, this was going to be an awkward few days. Unless…
Nate stood in the empty room as his cheeks rose to his eyes. He’d rendered her nearly speechless. And he hadn’t missed the way she’d stared at him, her light-blue eyes growing darker by the second. Did this mean what he thought it meant? And after the pep talk he’d given himself in the bathroom just moments ago, that should have been the last thing he wanted. Nothing could have stopped this smile any more than he could stop the flutter in his chest.
That was when he noticed his hands.
Thick tufts of hair sprouted from his knuckles—the first place that always transformed when he was about to shift. Though for only a brief amount of time, his body had gone into protection mode, setting into motion all the changes he never wanted people to see—especially not Stella. He hadn’t noticed his hair when he saved her sweater, so it must have popped up after that. Maybe it hadn’t been the worst thing that he’d run out there shirtless. At least that meant her eyes weren’t fixed on his hands.
He rubbed the center of his chest, feeling the thrumming underneath. If she’d unsettled him this much, he was going to have to be more careful around her. These…feelings…needed to calm down.
A perk was the last thing Stella needed right now.
But the lodge café was just the distraction she needed. The people milling around, looking at fancy mugs, hats, and sweatshirts with the resort logo on them, the sounds of clinking mugs and machines bringing delicious drinks to life were all things she could focus on. She needed to be more like the café patrons, walking around like they hadn’t a care in the world. It was like she was the only one who had seen her roommate and coworker shirtless and still had the shakes because of it.
A gulp of her cappuccino certainly wasn’t going to help the jitters, but she needed something to do with her hands. At least they were behaving now. About ten minutes ago, they had the bright idea to reach out and trace the beads of moisture on his chest—a chest that looked as smooth as a baby’s skin and as hard as the granite countertops she’d browsed at the hardware store last week. His chest glistened, thanks to the drops of water, drawing attention to it like an illuminated marquee that said you know you want to touch this. Boy howdy, did she want to. Thankfully, her brain kicked into high gear to shut that idea down. But not before it could stop the slight whimper that escaped her mouth when a drop skated over one of his—many—abs. Gosh, what if he’d heard?
What was he doing, coming out of the bathroom like that? Sure, she’d made a noise, but that was her favorite sweater. And seeing the teeth of the suitcase zipper chomp on it was hard to watch. Not as hard as watching Nate standing in front of her, especially when he’d had the audacity to raise his arms and run his fingers through his hair like a dang underwear model. Okay, so that hadn’t been hard to watch. The only hard part was his massive biceps the action put on display—she presumed. She’d been able to keep her hands from exploring that area as well.
“Hey, Stella Bella,” Lucy chirped, and Stella had never been so happy for a distraction than she was at that moment. “Needed to grab something hot?” The sight of Nathan’s shirtless form immediately popped into her head, and her cheeks flamed.
Coffee, you idiot. She’s talking about the coffee. Not your hot roommate.
“Oh, yeah,” she responded, holding up her half-empty cup.
“We needed something too,” she said as Hannah and Angie followed closely behind. “We’ll join you in just a sec.”
Stella nodded as her cousin and friends walked to the counter. She had less than five minutes to get a grip. To act like she hadn’t seen or been affected by Nathan bounding in like he was about to pull a car off her instead of pulling a sweater out of a jammed zipper. Easy enough.
She twisted the paper cup back and forth on the table, the Oglebay logo hypnotizing her as it moved side to side. Looking at anything right now—even a coffee cup—was better than picturing Nate.
Imagining the reasons she needed to get her act together was another good idea. Namely, he worked for her. And he’d never shown any interest in her whatsoever. Good grief, he’d shot down her idea to fake date fast enough. He didn’t want anything to do with her, fake or otherwise. Message received.
Now that she thought about it, she was relieved he’d shut down the idea of them fake dating. What was she thinking, suggesting something like that? Did she think she was living in a romance novel? Those weren’t real. Besides that, she didn’t even want a relationship. She was too busy with managing the salon. Throw in a relationship, and she was libel to mess up two good things in her life. No thank you. She wasn’t about to live through another Julliard situation.
“Everything working out okay?” Lucy asked as she sat at the table with Hannah and Angie. There was a twinkle in her eye she tried to ignore. It reminded her a lot of the look her grandma had given her before she left Mountain Brew earlier. She wondered if Gram was in on this whole match-making scheme, but bringing that up would inevitably bring up Nate, and she was trying not to think about him at all.
So, she settled for denial. “Yep. Everything’s great. The room is great. The view is great. Everything is great with Nate.”
“Are you buying any of this?” Angie stage-whispered to Hannah, and Stella wondered what had blown her cover. Was it the rhyming? The overuse of the word great ? The way her knee wouldn’t stop bouncing under the table?
“Shh,” Hannah said as she lightly smacked her friend’s arm.
“I even checked in with the contractors earlier, and everything is going great back at the salon too.”
“How are you handling all this?” Hannah asked, leaning closer to Stella.
“Me? Why would you ask that?” Did panic have a distinct smell? Had she sniffed it out from across the table?
“You know what…no reason,” Hannah responded then took a sip of her drink as her eyes shifted to the side.
“Is there something you guys aren’t telling me?” Stella lowered her head, staring at each of the women individually. One of them was bound to crack, and her money was on Hannah. Her heart was too pure, her eyes too dance-y at the moment to keep up this ruse any longer. But Angie had a bit of a big mouth. Maybe she’d be the first to blab.
“Alright, I told them,” Lucy blurted, like the weight of the words was too much for her to carry another second.
“I knew it.” Stella sat back from the table, crossing her arms over her chest.
Hannah leaned forward. “We just think you deserve better. That maybe you’re selling yourself a little short.”
“And that maybe you’re…scared. No one likes change.”
Stella’s eyes snapped to Angie, her statement hitting a little too close to home—or more accurately, hitting the bullseye right on the center of the target. She didn’t want to get into this over coffee at a resort the week of her cousin’s wedding, but her last relationship didn’t end on the best terms. And she hadn’t been single that long. They’d only broken up in October…of last year. Okay, so maybe it was time to get back out there, as scary as it seemed.
“I just don’t know if I’m ready.”
Lucy nodded slowly. “But Grandma Millie wanted this to happen. Don’t you?”
Not really . And she knew her grandma was behind this somehow. The more she thought of it, the more she realized this whole thing reeked of something she would have done. Heck, she probably hosted one of her game nights and hashed the whole plan out with these three.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Angie’s eyes smiled from behind her coffee cup as she did a little shimmy, gracefully and without spilling a drop of her drink. That spoke to the dancer she was, her coordination far surpassing anything Stella could do.
Hannah nodded. “Yeah. I mean, it’s all yours. You might as well do with it whatever you want.”
Stella choked on her cappuccino. Those words from the usually reserved and sweet Hannah were…not what she’d expected. What did they want her to do with Nate? In that shirtless moment, she thought of a few things she’d like to do with him, but that was just in the heat of the moment. They were thoughts any woman would have had if they’d turned to see a shirtless man with bulging muscles that would have made Thor cry.
Lucy patted her back as she regained her breath. “There, there.” Her throat still burned, but hey, at least she’d stopped coughing. “We’re just saying, you own it. Go for it!”
And then she choked some more. On what this time? Who the heck knew? It wasn’t possible to choke on other people’s words, was it?
Had Stella objectified him in all his shirtless glory a half hour ago? Yes, and she wasn’t proud of it. But what these women were suggesting was downright inappropriate.
“You guys are acting like…well, we’re not talking about property here!”
“Uh…” Angie looked at each of the women at the table. “That’s exactly what we’re talking about.”
Stella shook her head. “I’m…really confused.”
“We’re talking about the salon.” Lucy’s brows squished together into a unibrow as she looked at her cousin. “What were you talking about?”
“Oh…that,” she blurted before shoving the coffee cup in her own face. It was empty now, so she sucked on the plastic lid to sell the act that she was sip, sip, sipping away. No need for them to know what she’d really been thinking about. Except, what they were talking about was worse. Well, not worse. The same, maybe? Them mentioning the salon like this meant one thing: they’d seen the blueprints.
“I stopped by the salon this morning. Part of me thought maybe you’d changed your mind, and you’d hired the contractors to do a little remodeling while they’re already there to fix the pipes. I think it’s time. Don’t you?”
No. But obviously, Lucy did.
“I don’t know.” Stella toyed with the cardboard ring around the cup. “It’s a lot to think about.”
It wasn’t, really. This was a decision that a normal business owner would have easily made. Wouldn’t have shoved it—literally—under a pile of papers in the office and pretended like it didn’t exist. And yet, that was exactly what she’d done.
“You know we’re here to support you however we can.” Hannah was sweet to say that, but she didn’t know. None of them did. And she was bound to make sure they never did. They’d watched her choke on coffee, but none of them had any idea what she’d choked on in the past. What had changed the whole trajectory of her career. Of her life.
If she’d done it once, she’d do it again. Choking when the stakes were high was her specialty—something Bobby reminded her of more than a few times.
“Just think of me as your life coach ,” he’d said. She wanted to think of him as more of a boyfriend. Besides, she doubted a life coach mocked people’s ideas or laughed at their life choices. Though, boyfriends didn’t do that either, did they? Not good ones, anyway. But belittling her ideas was his way of keeping her small. She knew that now.
There was some relief now that the business was all hers and that she wouldn’t take her parents down with her. It would only be her loss. Just like last time. And the time before. But something about making changes to the space, making it her own, felt…big. Why couldn’t she take that step?
“Would you look at the time,” she said, looking at her wrist that didn’t have a watch on it. Smooth. “I think I need to get back to the room and get ready.” She pushed back her chair as she stood, thanking the women for keeping her company.
Though it gave her mind a break from the whole situation with Nathan, she hoped that was the last time Lucy would bring up the salon. There were better things to focus on this week. Namely, the wedding. And any of the other fun things this week would bring.