“How are you now?” I asked, my brain tracking on the fact that he had once had aboyfriendand now he was free. And no, I didn’t wink at him, but there was a wink in my voice. “Still messy?”
He laughed, again a delightful low burry laugh that made me want to grab him and just hold on until that warm sweetness was soaked all into me.
His eyes sparkled as he looked at me, as if he knew how he was affecting me (it certainly wasn’t the beer), and was teasing me. Or maybe he was unsure what might be on offer. Or maybe he was trying to say no, but gently.
Around that time—but of course, an interruption—the waitress said our table was ready. As she led us into the small restaurant with its glossy wood floors and soft candlelight level lighting, the gentleness offset with swags of evergreen along the wood-panelled walls, I asked her, “Does your store sell warm boots?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” she said. “It just has basic supplies, maybe some sweatshirts and hats. But no boots.”
She pointed us to a small booth that had high backs and cushioned bench seats covered in plaid cloth. I slid in and Alex slid across from me.
“Thanks for asking,” he said. “You were right. My feet are freezing.”
“We can take care of that later,” I said, with visions ofkneeling before him to take off his fancy leather shoes and thin socks and warming his bare feet against my bare belly.
Yeah, I’d lift up my t-shirt, and pull his foot close and, as I cupped his bare foot to me, I’d look at him and let my wants shine through my eyes.
Jonah always said my eyes gave me away. So if this guy was soft-hearted for hearth and home, and reeling from a bad breakup, then I could be his rebound guy. I’d be willing, just so, yeah, we could have a roll in the hay and afterward I wouldn’t have to sleep alone.
Yeah, he’d be using me, but I’d be using him right back, and it would all even out, eventually. The trick was getting him there.
With my sights set on getting him into bed, I was a charming dinner guest. I used my napkin. I didn’t drink too much, only a few beers more, and I didn’t eat as much of the wonderful roast chicken as I wanted because, I tell you what, I cannot fuck on a full stomach. While I wondered if I should get a to-go box, I got to watch him eat.
He was a bit dainty about it, as if he’d never gone hungry a day in his life and stuffing his face wasn’t on his event horizon. He used his napkin on his glistening and lush mouth, and took small sips of his second beer (he only ever had two), and kept his mouth closed as he chewed.
Alex was a real charmer, definitely from good stock. Compared to me, he was a prince, while I was a dullard in a herd of nobodies.
I got two to-go boxes. One had most of my roast chicken and French fries. The other had a huge slice of carrot cake, for afters.
As we argued over who would pay (maybe he didn’t realize I had a super duper powerful credit card in my wallet), I started to have my doubts that he would actually sleep with me, even if there was only one bed.
As we slogged back across the parking lot to Cabin 7,trudging over ice while a starlight black sky blew cold air across our faces, I continued to doubt that I would be successful at getting him in that bed to do anything other than sleep.
When we got back to the cabin, Alex opened it and, to our mutual surprise, someone on staff had come by to build a small fire.
There was a note.You can let the fire go out by simply not adding any wood to the kindling. Or you can add a log or two and enjoy.
I looked at the river rock fireplace, and yes, there were a handful of kindling sticks sporting small flames that might soon go out if the fire wasn’t built up.
I handed the to-go boxes to Alex to put away and threw off my blue fleece jacket to kneel down and add another log from the curved basket that held them. My time coming on weekends to Farthingdale Valley had taught me some things, and one of them was how to build and maintain a fire, and my neck and arms and face were soon feeling the warmth of that fire.
As I knelt there, watching the flames grow, I wiped my hands on my black jeans as the air warmed around me. I felt Alex come up and stand right behind me.
Had we been anywhere else, and had he been anywhere else, every part of me would have been on high alert. But the cabin was cozy, and he was Alex, and there was nothing to fear.
“Are your feet still freezing?” I asked without looking back. He could say yes or no or that he was going to take off his shoes and put on fresh socks. He could do anything he wanted.
“I wish they had boots,” he said. “I never thought to bring any because there’s everything I need at my family’s place.”
“They have a place in Steamboat?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. People as rich as Alex seemed to be usually had a summer placeanda winter place, in addition to a regular house. Multiples of things, when they only ever needed one, whether it was houses or dining rooms.
“Yes,” he said after a bit of a pause. “They do.”
He moved away and sat on the couch, and in the back of my mind, I figured he was taking off his shoes here, in the living room, rather than the small bedroom so he could leave the damp shoes in the boot tray. And that was so he didn’t track dampness through the house.
Another rich person thing, something I’d never cared about until I met Royce. Until Jonah had met Royce, that is, and I got dragged along into a new level of self-care and fussiness.
“Let me help you,” I said, turning around, still on my knees.
