"I know a lot of things about you." I move my hand higher on her thigh and she shifts her legs open for me. My cock starts to thicken. "I know your mother worked doubles every Christmas so you were alone. I know you had a sad plastic tree from the clearance section with half the branches missing for the last few Christmases."
Her breath catches. "That's not unsettling at all."
"I’m glad you think so." I squeeze her leg and I see her roll her eyes out of the corner of mine. "You'll have a real tree every year now. As many as you want. One in every room if it makes you happy."
"And if I decide this is insane and I want to leave?"
"The door's unlocked, little bird. You stay because you want to."
She opens her mouth to argue, but I turn the car into the massive iron gates of the Reserve.
This isn't a cut-your-own lot for the masses. This is where the one percent of Emerald Hills come to drop five grand on a fir tree that’s been groomed by botanists for a decade. There’s a heated lodge, waiters passing out mulled wine, and enough security to guard a head of state.
I park the car and come around to open her door. The air is crisp, smelling of snow and pine.
"Come on," I say, offering my arm.
She hesitates, then slides her hand into the crook of my elbow. We walk toward the rows of trees. Blair’s mood shifts almost immediately when she lays her eyes on the small forest of perfect trees. She lets go of my arm and walks toward a massive Noble Fir, her fingers trailing over the needles. For a second, the lines of stress around her eyes vanish. She looks younger. Lighter.
"It's huge," she says, looking up at the twelve-foot monster.
"It’s yours," I say.
She laughs, shaking her head. "We can't just take the first one we see, Gabriel. We have to look. That's the point."
"The point is having the best." I gesture at the trees. “Any of these are the best.”
"The point is the hunt." She shoots me a look over her shoulder—a challenge.
My cock twitches. I like the hunt. I like it very much.
"Fine," I concede, leaning against a wooden post as I watch her weave through the trees. "Hunt away."
I take the opportunity to check my phone, ignoring everything except an email from my lawyer and the closest thing I have to a best friend.
Gabe,
Thought you should know I got word Thornton is moving assets. He’s liquidity-heavy right now. Looks like he’s planning something big. Let me know how you want to handle him.
C
Fucking Thornton. My biggest competitor in commercial real estate and, unfortunately, my son's godfather. A mistake I made twenty years ago when I thought keeping my enemies close was a good strategy. Now, he’s just a vulture waiting for me to fuck up so he can pick at the bones.
I look up to check on Blair.
She’s about fifty yards away now, examining a Fraser Fir.
And she’s not alone.
My blood turns to ice in my veins.
Speak of the fucking devil. None other than James Thornton is standing next to her.
He’s too goddamn close.
I close the distance between us with a stride that eats up the ground, my focus narrowing to a pinpoint laser on the man leaning entirely too close to my woman.
James is wearing a camel coat and a smile that makes my skin crawl. He’s older than me, softer, with a polished veneer that hides a rotting interior.
