“About three weeks ago,” I repeated. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to find you, but I wouldn’t have left Croftridge if his recovery wasn’t going well.”
“So he’s okay?” she asked.
“He’s still healing, but yeah, he’s doing okay. He came home from the hospital before I left. Kathleen and Jeff still work at the dairy farm and live on the property. Ember and Dash live out there now, too, so he’s got his adoptive parents and his twin sister fussing over him, not to mention the club members. He risked his life for the brothers; not a one of us will ever forget that. I promise, he’s being looked after by more than enough.”
I felt her nod, but she remained quiet for a few minutes, likely absorbing everything I had just shared. “Did you say Ember lives on the farm property?” she asked, her voice full of disbelief.
“Yeah, she does. Let’s stop for lunch, refuel and recharge, and I will tell you what she’s done with the place since I inherited it.”
***
We rolled into downtown Denver around 5pm. I drove straight to the hotel I picked the day before. It was another upscale hotel, but this one wasn’t a large commercial chain. It had an old-world feel to it. I was looking forward to our stay because I made sure we had time to enjoy some of the amenities offered.
Annabelle didn’t make a fuss about the hotel or the fact that we were sharing a room together. I didn’t know if that was because she was okay with it or because she was too tired and too overwhelmed to care. Once we were checked in and settled into our room, I suggested we order room service for dinner. We took turns showering while waiting for dinner to arrive.
I couldn’t have asked for anything better. They wheeled in dinner for two on one of those silver carts, complete with a bouquet of flowers and lit candles for the centerpiece. When the attendant left, I popped the cork on the champagne and poured a glass for each of us.
“What’s all this?” she asked.
I tried to appear indifferent. “It’s dinner. What’s it look like?”
She rolled her eyes. “Phoenix, do you honestly expect me to believe that staying in these kinds of hotels and ordering romantic dinners are things you normally do when you’re on the road?”
I shrugged. “I like to travel in style. What’s wrong with that?”
She looked at me like I had completely lost my mind for one long second before she threw her head back and laughed. “Travel in style,” she guffawed and slapped her leg. “That’s priceless.”
“Shut up and drink your champagne, brat,” I barked.
She wiggled her fingers at me, taunting me. “Oooh, don’t get all pissy with me, you stylish biker man.”
She was going to pay for that, but it would have to be later, when I could enjoy making her pay. I stabbed my finger toward her plate. “Eat, woman.”
She held her hands up in surrender. “Fine. You win.”
We enjoyed our meal together, managing to keep the conversation light. When we finished off the bottle of champagne, I offered to send for a second bottle, but Annabelle declined. I opened the door to wheel the food cart into the hallway, surprised to find our next appointment standing there poised to knock. “Good evening, Mr. Black. Let me take care of that for you and then we’ll get set up.”
Annabelle was doing her best to see who was at the door while trying to hide her interest. Good, I wanted her curiosity piqued. I stepped to the side and held the door open for our two guests and their equipment. “What’s all this?” she asked, a hint of excitement in her voice.
I winked. “Thought you might enjoy a massage after two days on the back of my bike.”
She smiled brightly. “Oh, that sounds absolutely wonderful.”
She stiffened slightly when she realized two things: one, we would both be naked beneath a small towel for the massage and two, the hot blonde would be massaging me. She went into the bathroom to disrobe and came out completely covered in the complimentary robe provided by the hotel. She then made me promise to either close my eyes or keep them averted while she was having her back massaged. I gave her my word, but she was going to explain that to me later.
As for the hot blonde, I didn’t plan it that way; it’s just how it happened. Her little nose wrinkled when Svetlana introduced herself as my masseuse and led me by hand to the massage table. I swear Annabelle snarled when Svetlana cooed, “Oh, Mr. Black, you have such large muscles. It is such a treat for me to work on someone as toned as you are.”
When our massages were finished, I felt great. Svetlana did an excellent job and remained very professional while she had her hands on me. Annabelle, however, was wound tighter than an eight-day clock. She hopped off her table and bolted for the bathroom. I thanked the girls, gave them both a generous tip, and walked them to the door.
Sliding on a pair of basketball shorts, I made purposeful strides to the bathroom door and gave it three sharp knocks. “Annabelle, get your ass out here right now.”
“Leave me alone, Phoenix.”
“I don’t think so, doll face. Either you come out or I’m coming in,” I informed her.
I heard her huff and then the door swung open. She stomped toward the bed and sat down with a plop.
“What in the hell is the matter with you?” I asked.
