It’s been two days since I’ve heard from Bree. Two days since I felt her breath on my neck and watched her eyes darken with yearning. Two days since I felt her clenching slick and tight around my fingers.
I know I should play it cool. A smart guy wouldn’t text more than twice or leave more than one voicemail saying as casually as possible what a great time he had and that he’s hoping to do it again.
But I’m not cool or even all that smart, which is how I find myself volunteering to drive Aunt Gen out to Ponderosa Ranch on Monday afternoon for her meeting with Bree.
“It really is breathtaking, isn’t it?” Gen says.
I’m still thinking about Bree, so I start nodding before I realize she’s looking at the mountains. “The views are great,” I say. “They went to a lot of trouble to make sure all the dining tables are angled so everyone gets the mountain view eye candy.”
She looks at me like she knows I was totally quoting Bree, but she refrains from commenting. Instead, she pulls out her phone and clicks off a couple pictures of the massive Ponderosa Luxury Ranch Resort sign with the resort logo spelled out in cast iron curlicue.
“The attention to detail is exquisite,” she says. “I can think of at least three clients who’d swoon over the chance to have that kind of backdrop in their wedding photos.”
“Beautiful,” I agree, distracted again. Bree steps out onto the paver walkway in front of the lodge. She’s wearing a fitted gray skirt and a red shirt that’s drapey and soft and shows just the faintest hint of the curves hidden beneath.
I’ve had my hands on those.
The idea flits through my head with a chest-thumping pride, but I push it aside as I pull into a parking space. Bree strides toward my truck, barely hiding the flash of alarm in her eyes when she realizes I’ve accompanied Aunt Gen.
“Don’t worry,” I assure her as I swing myself out of the truck. “I promise I’m not crashing your meeting. Just taking you up on your offer.”
“Offer?”
I open the door to let Virginia come bounding out. Bree’s face lights up with joy, and I feel only slightly guilty about using my dog to warm the heart of a woman who seems less than excited about seeing me.
“Oh,” she says, stooping down to scratch Virginia’s ears. “You’re here to test-drive the dog park. It’s nice to see you again, good girl!”
“It’s lovely to see you again, too, dear.” Genevieve gives Bree a wry wink as she walks around the truck to stand beside her. “You weren’t exaggerating one bit. It’s absolutely stunning out here.”
“I’m excited to give you a tour.” Bree stands and smooths her hands down the front of her skirt. “Would you like to start with the spa?”
“Whatever you think is best.”
“Let’s get some fresh cucumber water or maybe a glass of champagne so we have something to drink while we make the rounds.”
The two of them disappear into the lodge, leaving Virginia and me standing at the edge of the parking area. I glance down to see my dog looking vaguely disappointed. “You and me both, girl.”
“Dog park’s that way.”
The gruff voice comes from behind, and I pivot to see Mark standing at the edge of the lodge. How much of that did he just see?
“Doing some wood cutting?” I manage as Mark stands there looking vaguely menacing with an axe.
He doesn’t respond, which means axe murdering isn’t out of the question. He doesn’t smile or say anything but does give a low grunt. “That’s a good lookin’ dog you’ve got there.”
“Thanks. She’s part coyote.”
Mark leans the axe against the lodge, then bends to scratch her ears. I try to think of something else to say. “Thanks for putting out Bree’s fire the other night. She felt awful about leaving that candle.”
“We all have shitty judgment sometimes.”
He’s looking at the dog and not me, but I sense there’s more to that remark than idle chit-chat.
“True enough,” I agree. “Let he who’s never been a dumbass cast the first stone.”
He straightens up and looks me dead in the eye. “Isn’t that sort of your job, though? Casting stones?”
“Not really.” I try not to let my surprise show as I consider the odd turn in conversation. “I’m a cop, not a judge. I enforce the laws, but I don’t make them. Or even question them.”
Mark says nothing to that, but the intensity of his expression has me wanting to look away. I don’t, though. It’s not my first time staring down a guy who’s sizing me up. Or who’s intent on making me blink first, which I absolutely won’t do.
Virginia barks sharply, and we break eye contact at the same time.
“Look, Mark,” I say. “I know you’re protective of your sister. I’ve got sisters, too, so I know how it is.”
“You do.” It’s halfway between a question and a statement, and I wonder if he’s testing me.
“I know no one’s ever good enough for them, and God knows I’ve tried to run off plenty of guys I thought didn’t have their best interest at heart,” I say. “I just want you to know my intentions are good. I like Bree. I like her a lot, and I want to keep getting to know her.”
He studies me for a long time, and I try to avoid looking like a guy who had a hand up Bree’s skirt forty-eight hours ago. Finally, Mark nods like he’s just run a scan on my brainwaves and made a determination. God knows what it is.
“There’s a basket of tennis balls next to the dog park gate,” he says. “Help yourself.”
He turns and walks away.
“I’ll email you a couple of custom menus to give you a sense of what we can do.” Sean Bracelyn—Bree’s famous chef brother—is talking to Aunt Gen in front of the lodge when I stroll up with a tired dog on my heels.
Sean looks up and waves, and my aunt follows suit. “Austin, I was wondering where you’d disappeared to,” she says. “This place is amazing.”
“Wait ‘til you see the reindeer ranch next door.” Sean grins. “Not that I’m an unbiased party, but I think it’ll give you a cool look at the other side of the coin.”
Aunt Gen smiles back, picking up on the hint of a love story. Her favorite thing, which is what makes her TV show so popular. “That’s right, Bree mentioned you’re engaged to one of the sisters,” Genevieve says. “Amber, right?”
“Not engaged.” Sean smiles. “Yet.” The guy looks downright ecstatic, and I can’t help liking him. He’s clearly nuts about the pretty brunette next door, and it’s cool that he wears it on his sleeve.
“I’m visiting Amber’s ranch next,” Gen says. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“I’m happy to drive you if you want.” Sean looks at me. “I’m headed there anyway to see Amber. It’s no trouble at all.”
“I accept,” Gen says before I can open my mouth. My aunt pats me on the cheek like I’m six years old, even though she has to stretch up to do it. “Go see that girl of yours. Bree’s in her office.”
She wanders off with Sean before I can say anything about Bree not being my girl. Not officially, anyway. Or did she say something else to Gen? The thought makes my dumb heart swell, even though I know it’s not true. The fact that she hasn’t returned my calls seems like a good indication of where her head is at, though I can’t help thinking about where my hand was just a few nights ago. Didn’t that mean something?
I glance down at my dog like she might have the answers. Virginia looks at me and yawns, then curls into a donut shape next to the big water feature beside the front door.
“Stay right here, girl,” I tell her unnecessarily. It would take a backhoe to move her from this cozy nap spot.
I wipe the tennis ball dust onto my jeans and head through the massive doors of the lodge. Turning left at the lobby, I move toward Bree’s office. I hesitate when I hear her voice.
“We’ve got them doing the couples’ massage class tomorrow morning at our day spa,” she’s saying. “I’ll see about getting them out on a few day trips. I’ve heard about some hot springs that aren’t too far from here. Maybe some hikes or something.”
There’s some more murmuring, and I wonder if I should retreat back to the lobby to wait for her there instead of eavesdropping like a creeper. But then she’s saying her goodbyes, and I hear the clatter of her phone on her desk.
“You can come in, Austin.”
I move toward her door, wondering if she sensed my presence or something cheesy like that.
She stands and points to the wall beside the door. “Mirror,” she says with a smile. “Mark put it up after I complained I couldn’t see who was hanging around in the lobby.”
Her smile makes my chest feel like someone’s set off one of those fizzy bath bombs my sisters always buy each other for Christmas, and yes, I did try the one they gave me last year. “How’d things go with my aunt?”
“Great.” Bree stays standing, so I do the same, wondering if she wants to make a hasty exit. “She seemed really excited about the ballroom, which is perfect for huge, formal events,” she continues. “Sean did a little taste test for her with some of his best wedding food, and she seemed to really like that.”
“I’m not surprised,” I tell her. “The stuff you served at the grand opening was incredible.”
“I’ll tell him you said so.” Her green eyes are flashing, and I love seeing her this excited. “I don’t want to count my chickens too soon or anything, but I’m hopeful,” she says. “Genevieve thinks it would make a great segment for the week they’re devoting to Pacific Northwest wedding venues.”
“That’s awesome. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Bree clasps her hands in front of her like a kid who’s been told not to grab anything in the candy store. “And thanks for introducing me to her.” She nibbles the edge of her lip, and I wonder what’s on her mind.
I don’t have to wonder long.
“Thanks for uh—the other night.” She looks down at her hands, and her cheeks get another shade pinker. Magenta or fuchsia or whatever the hell you call that pretty shade of dark pink.
It’s all I can do to stop myself from reaching for her. “You don’t have to thank me. Touching you wasn’t exactly community service.”
She looks up, and my breath catches in my throat. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Sounded too eager or whatever.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” she says slowly. “But I’m glad it did.”
Wait, what?
“Really?”
The smile she gives me is oddly shy. “I know I shouldn’t be, and I was all set to tell you we probably shouldn’t do it again,” she says. “But then you show up in that blue shirt that matches your eyes, and you’ve got your adorable dog and your sweet aunt, and you’re doing the whole Officer Velvet Voice thing, and the next thing I know—”
“Officer Velvet Voice?”
“Right,” she says, biting her lip again. “It’s your normal voice, I guess. It’s sort of irresistible.”
“Thanks. I think.” I still can’t figure out what’s going on here.
“I know I’ve been giving you sort of mixed signals, but I’m figuring this stuff out as I go along.” She gives me a shaky smile and tucks a curl behind one ear. “I’m hot for you. Obviously. But I’m not quite sure what to do about it.”
This vulnerable side to Bree, it’s something I haven’t seen before. It’s ridiculously sexy, and I’m fighting like hell to keep from reaching for her. “So can I see you again sometime?”
She sighs, and the look that flits across her face looks like genuine remorse. “I’m not sure that’s going to work right now.”
Disappointment drags my heart down like an anchor. “Is it because of the cop thing or something else?”
“Neither, exactly.” She sighs and gestures toward her phone. “I know it sounds like an excuse, but I’m kind of freaking out about work stuff right now.”
“What’s wrong?” Maybe I can help.
She shakes her head and knocks over her pen cup. I start to reach for it, but she’s already scooping them back into place. “I’ve got all these travel journalists here right now, which should be a good thing,” she says. “But nothing’s going the way it’s supposed to.”
“The FAM tours, right.” Do I get bonus points for remembering what they’re called? I lean against her wall, careful not to bump the mirror. “What’s going on?”
Bree’s eyes flick across my chest then back to my face. It’s so fast I almost missed it, and my ego swells just a little. “I have three couples here as part of a FAM trip that’s all about romance and couples’ travel,” she says. “That’s their schtick—they all write about traveling as a pair.”
I nod so she knows I’m listening. “One of them is your college buddy and his husband.”
She smiles, and I can tell I’ve scored brownie points for remembering. “That’s right. You were paying attention.”
She sounds amazed, like it’s not a given I’d be hanging on her every word. “That’s Donovan and Sam, and they run the Nomadic Dudes travel site,” she says. “I guess they ran into some homophobic crap at the Dandelion Café yesterday, which sucks from more than just a PR standpoint. He’s my best friend, and I hate that they have to deal with hurtful comments. Everyone in town is normally so nice.”
I hate it even more than she does, since there’s a good chance I know whoever’s responsible. It’s a small town, and that’s my regular breakfast spot. “Who was it? Not one of the servers?”
“No, just a customer,” she says. “I wrote the name down somewhere. Anyway, that’s only one of the things falling apart right now.” She glances at the door, then leans across me and pushes it shut. It’s everything I can do not to respond when her breast brushes my arm on the way back.
“There’s some drama with the other two couples,” she says, lowering her voice. “Chris and Shawna are with the Wandering Hearts travel blog. Sweet couple—he’s Australian, and I think she’s from California. Apparently, there’s some tension with the other duo.”
“Tension like fighting over pizza deliveries?”
“No, the opposite.” She grimaces, and I try to imagine what the opposite of a pizza fight might be. “Graham and Gigi—that’s the other couple, from the Lovebird Journeys travel site—they’ve got a reputation for having more of an open relationship.”
I study Bree’s face as her cheeks flush with color and she glances down at her hands, suddenly very interested in her manicure.
“You mean they’re swingers? Wife swapping or whatever?”
She winces. “That’s the rumor. Anyway, Gigi is this sleek, beautiful Instagram blonde who’s always posting provocative photos. Stuff like ‘oh, here I am looking out over this lush mountain vista and, oops, I forgot my pants.’”
I’m not on social media much, but I think I get the gist of what she’s talking about. “My sister, Meredith, is on Instagram. She shows me stuff like that sometimes. Women who are all, ‘Doesn’t everyone lounge in the backyard hammock wearing nothing but a thong?’”
“Exactly,” Bree says. “Or last night it was, ‘I’ve forgotten how to eat ice cream, so I’ll just deep-throat the cone.’”
My brain swerves a little at the deep-throat reference, but I force myself to stay on track. “So you’re worried about her covering her naked body with honey and posing by your pool or something?”
“That, too, but I’m more worried about the other couple—Chris and Shawna?” She shakes her head, and a curl flops over her forehead. “One of my brothers saw Gigi alone with Chris in the game room last night. I guess he looked a little too enthusiastic about teaching her to play pool.”
“Yikes.” I may know nothing about Instagram, but even I can guess how this could lead to bad publicity. It only takes one pissed off blogger and a viral post to ruin the reputation of a new business like Bree’s. “You don’t think Chris’s girlfriend is in on it? Like maybe they’re swingers, too?”
“Shawna?” Bree shakes her head. “No. I had breakfast with her this morning. She seemed aware of Gigi’s reputation, but convinced Chris would never act on it. I can’t say anything because I don’t know if something’s happened yet, but I feel an obligation to make sure nothing does happen. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
I can’t imagine having to deal with this sort of PR crap. Supervising deputies and chasing down bad guys is more my speed, but managing a bunch of horny millennials with a habit of posting every meal, every bodily function online would make me want to hide under a rock. “What can you do?”
Bree bites her lip. “I’m thinking maybe I can send each couple out on some excursions, little day trips that get them away from each other.”
“Ah, the hot springs.” I just admitted to eavesdropping on her phone call, but Bree doesn’t seem bothered. “That’s a good one. Or Crater Lake. The Painted Hills are nice, or Smith Rock.”
“These are great, keep them coming.” She turns and scribbles on a notepad beside her phone. “Gigi and Graham have this whole series they do about hot springs around the world, so maybe you could tell me more about that one you mentioned. The place where you found Virginia?”
“Summer Lake Hot Springs.” I like where this is going. “You want me to take you out there to see it?”
She blows a curl off her forehead, and I try not to fixate on her mouth. “Would you mind?” she asks. “I don’t want to send them there if I haven’t seen it myself, but I thought—”
“Done,” I say. “Your timing’s perfect. I’m actually off for the next two days.”
Bree looks up at me with a question in her eyes. “You said it’s just a day trip?”
I’m not sure what the right answer is here, so I play it safe. “It can be if you get an early start and don’t mind coming back in the dark. Or there are cabins and tent sites you can rent. Totally up to you.”
She nods, looking thoughtful. She hesitates, like she’s considering something a lot bigger than a road trip. Like the weight of the world is on her shoulders.
“I’d like that,” she says slowly. “I’d like to spend the night.”
I study her face, trying to read between the lines. She didn’t say “spend the night with you,” and maybe I’m a presumptuous prick for thinking what I am.
But I can’t help going there, can’t help picturing her beneath me or hearing those soft little sounds she made the other night as she came apart in my arms.
“Do you want to camp, or should I check into cabins? They’ve got one bedroom, two bedroom—”
“Maybe camping.” She bites her lip, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I’ve never done it before.”
“I’ll see if I can get a campsite reservation,” I offer. “If you’re up for that.”
“I’m up for it,” she says slowly, squaring her shoulders like she’s just decided something. “I’m ready to try something new.”