The Steele Valley Resort glowed like a snow palace against the night. For the first time ever in my life, I valet-parked. Inside, I checked my ivory wool coat and was absurdly grateful I’d overdressed for the lodge tour today. I would fit right in at the resort tonight in my camel-colored cashmere sweater dress and knee-high dark brown suede boots.
I made a beeline through the exquisite lobby for the ladies’ room. “Just breathe, Penny,” I whispered, sinking into a chair and inhaling through my nose, pushing the air back out through my mouth. I smoothed my hands over the soft cashmere.
I’d promised myself I’d buy the pricey item when I had a career and a decent paycheck. My first Bellamy check had hit, and I deposited it at my Fifth Avenue Bank—then wandered into a fall sale on cashmere next door like it was meant to be. Dream achieved.
I had Archer to thank.
Tonight, sumptuous fabric played both armor against my past, and proof that I deserved everything I worked hard for now and in my future. Would Archer fit in to my plans?
I knew he’d said something about cigars, and the resort had a cigar lounge. Taking a chance I’d find him, I wove through the lobby, down a hall, and into Smokes. A tall, slim hostess greeted me.
“Hi. I’m looking for someone who was supposed to be here tonight. Archer Bellamy?” I chewed my cheek, already worryingabout telling him the Brianne news. Just when I thought I could put his broken pieces back together, she showed up again—now with Holden. And what about Mom’s “truth” about their past?
“Yes. This way.” She gestured for me to follow. I swallowed hard. Too late to turn back now.
The bar hummed with conversation, low jazz piping in. I eyed the dark wood, leather chairs, and crystal glasses filled with expensive liquor. Archer wasn’t expecting me. For a beat, I wondered if I should have come, completely out of place here in the lap of luxury.
Then he spotted me as I approached. His expression shifted. The public mask eased, a warm smile cutting through.
“Penny. You’re here.” He stood and hugged me. I’d never liked smoky air, but the spicy trace of an expensive cigar on his suit turned out to be an aphrodisiac.
“Hi.” Relief filled me and lingered when he didn’t let go right away.
He took my hand with quiet certainty and drew me into the circle at his table. “Penny, meet Junior Steele and his wife, Angel.” He gestured to a gorgeous pair, who waved, gracious and poised.
TheJunior Steele. Son of the billionaire who built the resort and the valley. He’d inherited it, and ran it better, building it bigger than his dad ever had. The same family who’d given my mother the loan to start her shop.
I could hardly believe I stood here among small town royalty—accepted as if an equal.
“This is Luc Delfino, and his wife Emily,” Archer added. More welcoming smiles from them.
“Sit here with me.” Archer pulled out a chair and tucked me in.
Emily’s eyes sparkled. “We tried to set him up tonight, but now I see why he wasn’t interested. Lovely to meet you.”
Junior chuckled. “Bellamy’s finally off the market. Here, here.” Glasses clinked.
Off the market… With me?
Archer appraised me, the room narrowing to just us. “Maybe I am,” he winked, then nuzzled my neck and whispered, “You’re fired.”
Butterflies somersaulted in my stomach. Fired had never sounded so good.
I should take him aside and tell him—about Holden on my mother’s stoop with roses, about Brianne’s new name and old tricks, about the doubts Mom put in my head.
Not tonight, though. The horror of home still rattled me, but Archer’s hand, warm over mine on my thigh, grounded me. We were in public together, no hiding. Archer admired me openly, freed to be himself, far from the city and anyone who’d make it complicated.
Emily laughed through a story about a charity ball they’d attended. Junior told a story about Angel recently rescuing a cat from a tree on Main Street in four-inch heels and starting a charity drive for the local pet population. For the first time among people like this, I didn’t feel like the dress-shop girl peeking through glass. They’d included me without question—like I’d stepped into a version of my life where I belonged beside the man I wanted.
Later, when glasses were empty, cigars smoked to stubs, we said our goodbyes.
Junior shook my hand and wished me well. “Hang on to Archer. He’s one of the good guys.” He winked as we left. Hard to reconcile this man with my mom’s “crooked Steele family” complaints.
I held it together until we were in the elevator, rising to the suite. Alone at last, I sighed and turned into Archer’s arms. My cheek found his chest; his strong heartbeat played in my ear.
“I enjoy my friends and colleagues, but all night I kept checking my watch, biding my time until I could text you. Then you walked in. So beautiful. So very fired,” he chuckled low and amused.
He tipped my chin and kissed me. Bourbon and smoke on his lips, and then his tongue, the taste of him obliterating my worries for a second. The last thing I wanted was my family drama ruining what we’d started. Not now, not after a night where I’d actually felt like I belonged.
