Matt’s been a perfect gentleman. He’s been kind and sweet and nothing like I assumed he would be. I figured he might be a tad egotistical because he’s likely used to getting what he wants. Which I hope includes me at least for tonight. But he’s been gracious and almost humble as people approach him while we walk through the entrance of the Glacier Point Resort and head to their restaurant.
When he mentioned coming here, I didn’t want to tell him my uncle owns it, so I wait patiently as he talks to the hostess about the fact that we don’t have a reservation.
I see him try to slyly hand her some cash, but the young girl opens her hand and stares at the one-hundred-dollar bill as though it’s a fossil. I guess young people aren’t used to being bribed for a good table these days.
I wish my thoughts were on this date and how good-looking Matt is, but they’re back in my bedroom with Hudson. Why was he acting so strange? He hasn’t been that flustered around me since the morning after the night we met, when he showed up at my apartment. It was as if he was scared how I was going to react to whatever he wanted to tell me.
“I’m Matt Peterson,” he whispers, and the doe-eyed teenage girl stares with a blank expression. Then he glances at me with a sheepish expression. “It’s all booked.”
I nod and step up to the stand. I smile sweetly, lean closer, and say, “I’m Palmer Ferguson, Wyatt Whitmore’s niece.”
Her eyes widen, and her head swivels right and left, as if my uncle is going to pop up out of nowhere. “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me get someone to help.” She scurries off before I have a chance to tell her it’s not a 9-1-1 situation.
“You’ve got more clout than me here.” Matt laughs. “And she pocketed my Benjamin anyway.”
“I’m not sure if Hudson told you—”
“That your family owns the majority of Lake Starlight? Yeah, he mentioned it. Plus, your rock star aunt, Phoenix, and your all-star cousin, Easton. You come from a good gene pool.”
I shake my head and smile. “I think there’s just so many of us. Some were bound to become bigger names than others.”
“I’m the only one from my entire town who made it big, so I’m not sure that’s the correct theory.”
The hostess comes back to the stand and grabs two menus. “We have the chef’s table in the kitchen open.”
Even Matt’s eyebrows raise. “Wow.”
Our meal will be comped, that much I know, so I hope Matt isn’t worried about what this will cost.
Matt holds his arm out for me to go first, and I follow the young girl through packed tables holding loud conversations, then through a door to the even louder kitchen. People are yelling, pots are clanking, but a deep smile faces me from behind the stainless-steel shelving where the dishes are put.
“Well, looky here!” my cousin Linus shouts, wiping his hands on a dish towel and rounding the crowded area to come over to me. He lifts his hands in case I struggle to hear him with everything going on back here. Not like you to use the Bailey name.
I giggle and shrug.
I’m not sure what to say. My date didn’t realize that even restaurants in small towns get busy?
I step out from our two-person circle and put my arm out toward Matt, continuing to sign since it’s so loud in here. Matt, this is my cousin, Linus. Linus, this is Matt—
Peterson. Linus signs, putting out his hand. Are you telling me your name didn’t work with Cami? Linus speaks as well as signs.
Matt chuckles, his easygoing personality shining through. Nope. Palmer got us in. And the chef’s table at that? He looks at me with eyes filled with admiration. A look most women would die to have facing them, but I feel nothing stirring inside. Impressive.
Shit, he can sign? Linus grins. He must be a keeper.
I have no idea what to say, other than I don’t think he is. At least not for me. Linus walks behind my back, over to the small table for two where we can still see them working but the noise level is a few decibels lower.
I hope to impress you. Have a seat and enjoy. Do you have any allergies, Matt? Linus smiles at me because he knows I don’t have any.
Linus is in my age bracket in the Bailey clan and was one of my biggest confidants during our high school years. When he decided to follow in his dad’s footsteps and become a chef, he was adamant about doing it on his own terms. After returning from his training all over the world, he concentrated on Asian cuisine while Uncle Rome is all about European. Linus and my other cousin, Lance, are partners in this new restaurant in the resort, The Bamboo Spoon.
None. Matt sighs.
Great, let me go prepare some specialities. Linus runs his hand over the back of my shoulders as he walks back to the kitchen.
I really want to tug Linus down and get his advice about these feelings for Hudson that are suddenly rising inside me. Why, when I have this hot guy next to me, is all I can think of a man who has been in my life for years.
Thoughts of the past rush through my head as the waitress comes by and pours us some wine that Linus apparently suggested. Memories of when I first met Hudson and how I didn’t want the drama of his baggage. Because baggage only leads to heartbreak. There was a short time I thought maybe I was wrong to place him in the friend category. Back then, he practically was a boyfriend to me, picking me up from work, cooking dinners, even taking care of me when I was sick.
Then I got pregnant with Adley, and I just couldn’t cross that line. I wanted Adley to have two parents in her life, and fear stopped me from allowing myself to fully feel for Hudson.
A warm hand touches my arm, and my mind returns to Matt and the restaurant. What is wrong with me?
“Sorry,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat.
Matt smiles, one that all the girls probably fall head over heels for. “I lost you for a minute.”
I shake my head. “Sorry, I’m just in the middle of this book that I’m writing, and I think it’s consuming my thoughts a little too much.”
Yes, that must be the reason all this stuff with Hudson is surfacing. It’s the story. It has to be.
“It amazes me that you’re a writer. How do you come up with all your ideas?” He picks up his wineglass and leans back in his chair, waiting for me to answer.
Matt doesn’t seem like a wine guy. He seems like a beer and shots guy. Maybe it’s the snowboarder thing, and how back in the day, I spent most of my time with snowboarders. For those eight months, Hudson’s snowboarding friends practically lived with us. And all they did was drink beer, do shots, and eat Chinese food.
“It used to come easier. This book was really hard to start, but now that I’m on a roll, I can’t type fast enough.” I refrain from telling him that I kind of wish I was with my laptop right now.
“That’s great,” he says before sipping his wine.
I take a sip of the wine, loving that Linus picked a white he knew I’d love. “And you? How did you become a snowboarder?”
He talks for the next twenty minutes about his snowboarding career, starting from the first time his dad put him on a board. We go through appetizers and soup before he’s finished telling me all about from childhood up until the last trick he did this afternoon on the halfpipe.
I smile politely, eating the delicious food Linus has made, drinking my wine, but somewhere along the line, I tune out. The next part of my story plays in my head like a movie.
Bea and Pete stumbled into their apartment door. She fiddled in her purse, searching for her keys while Pete laughed. Bea ended up dumping the contents of her purse all over the dirty floor in the hallway of her apartment building, and the keys jingled as they fell to the floor.
Pete picked them up and dangled them in front of her face. “You’re drunk!”
Bea swiped them away from him and inserted her key into the door. “So are you!”
She walked in and Pete bent down to pick up her lipstick, wallet, and phone from among the receipts and change scattered on the floor.
“You left all your shit!” he shouted too loudly while Bea watched him, holding the door open.
She just laughed until Mr. Overfelt opened his door and scowled at them. Their laughter died quickly.
“Sorry, Mr. Overfelt,” Bea said.
He stared long and hard, then shut his door and flipped the lock.
“Come on,” Bea whispered, or at least she tried unsuccessfully to keep her voice down.
Pete walked into the apartment, taking the door from her and shutting it, placing his finger over his mouth. “Shh…”
Their faces were so close together, and they both had their fingers over their mouths, telling one another to be quiet. Their eyes locked, and for the first time, neither of them turned away.
The longer they stared into each other’s eyes, the more something changed between them. Like a hunk of clay, it changed shape and meaning. They didn’t laugh again, and Pete leaned forward, the finger that was over his lips now shifting to touch her face.
Bea stepped back, her eyes darting away. “I need water.”
She was just steps away from the kitchen when Pete grabbed her hand and tugged her back into his arms. Bea had no time to prepare herself. When Pete’s lips met hers, she froze. Having no idea what to do, she stood there, but Pete wouldn’t accept it.
She hadn’t moved from his embrace. She didn’t step back or push him off. So he continued to press his lips to hers, and his hand went to the back of her head. He swiped his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she succumbed, opening for him.
Her hands went up and wound around his neck, pulling him closer. Neither said a word, their lips and hands doing all the talking. Pete couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough. Her body pressed against his felt too damn good.
They somehow managed to make it into the bedroom, falling into her dresser.
“Fuck,” Pete said, knowing he’d have a bruise by morning.
Bea giggled, and Pete grabbed her ass with both hands and picked her up so her legs wound around his waist. They circled and kissed, lost in a whirlwind of lust. Slamming against the wall, Pete tried to draw back slightly to take off Bea’s shirt, but their equilibrium was off since they were drunk, and he went too far back, causing Bea to grab at the curtains, tearing them down as she tried not to fall.
Both of them lay in a fit of giggles for a moment before they disregarded what had happened, came together again, their lips unable to part except when undressing the other. They fell onto the bed, Bea on top of Pete, and all the laughter stopped as he entered her fast and hard from below.
Their eyes got lost in one another as he withdrew and slid back in, circling his hips. back arched, wanting more…
A touch on my shoulder makes me realize I’m lost in my thoughts again. Shit. I look up to see Matt staring over my shoulder. The smile he’s worn the entire night isn’t there, and it’s been replaced with what almost looks like a scowl.
When I glance to my right, a figure comes out from behind me. Hudson bends down, and I turn in his direction. He takes my hands for a moment and squeezes them before letting go to sign, we need to talk.