“Done.”
I sit up straight. Wow. That was too easy. “Which ones?”
“Doesn’t matter. You pick. When’s my private lesson?”
I remember how perfect the sun felt yesterday. “Four p.m. Up on the green again.” I take the itinerary back from him. “Meanwhile…” I study my list, trying to get a feel for what he needs. Unfortunately, I’m blocked. All I can feel is sexual hunger, and I’m pretty certain that’s all me.
“The cooking class.” I almost choose this one as a dare. But it will keep him busy and engage all of his senses. “And… golf.” His file says he loves golf. Those two will take up the rest of the morning and most of his afternoon. Our golf course only has nine holes so he should be back in time for our… yoga.
“I want another one of those massage thingies,” he surprises me by saying. “From you.” He drops his hands onto his thighs like he’s gonna stand up. “And then dinner.”
“Dinner?” I take a deep breath like this is a hardship. It could be. It probably will be, eventually. “At the restaurant?”
He nods. And then wincing a little, “Where’s this damn cooking class?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Colt
After she disappearedyesterday, I didn’t get up from that grass for at least twenty minutes. My body had gone totally limp. I can’t remember the last time I’d been so relaxed– without drinking– without working myself into exhaustion.
And not just my body. My fucking mind.
I just lay there. Thinking of her and feeling… grateful. I wonder if the sensation was an aberration somehow. More about the atmosphere. The drive from Denver.
The absence of people.
Afterwards I simply wandered around outside for nearly an hour before returning to my cabin. Took a shower and fell asleep. Before ten. Cannot remember the last time I was asleep before ten.
Only problem was, I woke up at three and all that peace was gone. Felt jumpy. Anxious. Couldn’t stop looking at my phone. Nearly called for my car but wanted to see her again.
Needed to see her again. I’ll stay one more day.
So, I find the weight room and then take a run. The altitude nearly kills me, but I keep going anyway. By the time I head up to the offices I’ve been up for seven hours.
She looks even more beautiful today.
She’s different– the calm in the center of my storm.
I decide I’m not a pervert for hitting on this woman. Pregnant or not, she’s gorgeous. And she’s promised to have dinner with me.
I’ll also get another massage. Her hands on me again.
I’m simply required to do her little activities first.
She walks me to the large commercial kitchen and then backs away, looking smug but sexy. I point at her meaningfully. “Four o’clock.” My heart lightens at the sound of her muffled laughter as she disappears down the hallway.
My kitchen partner is a Denver socialite. Late thirties, overly made up, and full of self-importance. Tells me her name is Tiffany. I don’t have to ask her. She’s told me everything about herself within five minutes of our meeting. She wants me to perform for her charity. I tell her to contact my manager. She’s irritating. For the next two hours, I’m dodging her hands while trying to master the fine art of making sushi.
I actually love the stuff and am psyched about my finished product. I’d drop some off at Charlie’s desk but I’ve heard it’s not good for pregnant women.
So, I eat it myself. Not bad.
Now golf.
When people look at me now they see success. Talent. Money.
They don’t see where I come from. They don’t see the trailer park where I grew up. The clothing I wore until it fell apart. The empty refrigerator. The nights my brother and I spent alone even though I was barely six and he wasn’t much older.
