Текст книги "Wolf Bait"

Автор книги: Nina West

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Two

“We’ll have the photo ops done here. It should be good lighting at that time of day, with the view.” Belinda waves her manicured fingers toward the right side of the ballroom’s wall of windows. “That should happen between four and five, before people get too far into the open bar.”

The room is half set up with cocktail tables and clusters of lounge chairs, and a small stage for an orchestra on the left of the photography stage. It sounds like a ferry’s worth of flowers is being brought in to fill every empty space of this grand room within two days’ time.

“Abbi, you’re getting all of this, right?” Henry snaps. He doesn’t even glance in my direction.

“Yes, Mr. Wolf,” I mumble, my head bowed and my focus on my iPad, reminding myself of his words this morning before he left. This is what he meant about not taking anything personally. His tone with me has been sharp and his words clipped, since I met him for the staff meeting earlier. They’ve carried through to the grand opening planning checkpoints that have followed.

It must be working, because Belinda has barely given me a glance today. She must be convinced that Henry would rather fire me than sleep with me.

But everything has changed.

“We have everything under control. The Wolf men just need to show up, smile, and look sharp, and everything will go smoothly,” she purrs.

I’m going to meet Henry’s father. I wonder what he’s like in person.

“Great,” Henry murmurs, checking his watch.

“What time is the photography session this afternoon, again?” Belinda asks Henry, though her raised brow is directed at me.

“Uh...” I frown, pulling out my calendar. Photography session?

“You got my message, didn’t you? I sent it at seven this morning.”

At seven this morning I was splayed out on Henry’s desk with his face between my legs. I swallow, struggling to keep my cheeks from flaming. “I don’t know how I missed it.”

“World Hotel is here to do a spread on Mr. Wolf this afternoon and you missed my message?” She glances at her watch. “It’s already noon!”

“Enough. What is this about?” Henry asks irritably.

“They want three hours of your time to take some pictures around the hotel and out in the Alaskan wild at one o’clock this afternoon,” I explain, reading out the top line of Belinda’s e-mail for the first time. Somehow I skipped over it. “For a feature as one of the most eligible bachelors in the world.” I keep my expression smooth, hiding my disdain.

“Three hours?” he mutters, and I know this isn’t an act; he’s truly annoyed. “I don’t have three hours.”

“You’ll have to make it. It’s important for business,” Belinda admonishes.

“How is me being a bachelor important for the hotel?”

“Because everyone reads those kinds of articles.”

“Why is this so last-minute?”

“Because an opportunity came up and I made the executive decision as the hotel manager to take it!” I can’t believe she has the nerve to speak to him like that.

He shakes his head. “Wardrobe changes and all, I’m guessing?”

“They asked for three, including a suit. We have an hour. It’s okay, we can make this work,” I pipe in. I feel like such an ass for missing this email.

“Fuck, I hate these things.” He begins to pace. “I never know what to wear.”

“Don’t worry. I know how to dress you,” Belinda offers, and jealousy spikes deep within me.

He’s punching something into his phone as he talks. “You’re my hotel manager. You need to be here. That’s why I have Abbi.”

“Abbi.” Belinda gives him an “are you serious” glare.

“She’s done a good enough job so far.”

I’d like to shoot Belinda a snooty glare, but I settle on keeping my head down and hiding my smug smile of satisfaction.

She heaves a frustrated sigh. “Fine. I need you for a few more minutes and then you should go...”

Belinda’s words drift into the background as my phone vibrates in my hand. I check it to see a text from Henry.

You wouldn’t mind undressing me and helping me choose a few things to wear, right?

My heart begins to race. I press my lips together to keep from smiling, as I type in:

If I must, though it is a chore.

Are we already at the playful texting stage? This is moving fast. But I guess that’s what happens when you’re confined to a remote hotel in the Alaskan wilderness and acting out on primitive needs. That’s all we’re doing, I remind myself. I can’t let my dreams get painted with jet-setting and a trip down the aisle. Or even a real relationship.

Henry is responding to something else Belinda asked as he types, his tone all business.

Another message comes through.

I can still taste you coming in my mouth.

My notebook and iPad slip from my suddenly shaky grasp and land on the floor, earning Belinda’s annoyed glare. Mouthing an “I’m sorry,” I dare a glance Henry’s way.

His steely mask is firmly in place, as usual. “Is there anything else, Belinda? Because I have to go smile for three hours in front of a camera, thanks to you.”

She clears her throat. “That’s all for now. Abbi, I hope you at least remembered to have his tux ready?”

There’s that tone again. I could let it bother me, but I don’t because I’m the one who gets to dress—and undress—Henry. “Yup.” I let my gaze skate over his strong stature. That man in a tux...

Belinda leads the way and I follow, sensing the ghost of warm fingertips at the small of my back.

~ ~ ~ ~

“The Tom Ford.”

I grab the suit off the hook and lay it out on the bed, hollering, “How about the gold tie?”

“Sure.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I watch him drag the razor over the curve of his jaw. He’s fresh from yet another shower and wrapped in a towel, and the sight is making my pulse pump hard in my veins. But the playful text from earlier seems to have slipped from his mind. He’s all business now.

“Where else do they want to go?”

I scan the forwarded e-mail. “It says ‘maybe a few on the docks with the planes, a quick trip around the cove on his private boat, and, if possible, some wilderness’.”

“No wardrobe requirements?”

“‘More casual’ is all it says. So...” My mouth twists with thought as my fingers push through the various items hanging in his closet. All expensive, designer, high-thread-count clothing. He looked hot that day in the woods, cutting wood. And the day I watched him get off the plane. He could make a pair of sweatpants look sexy, to be honest.

I pull out a pair of dark blue jeans and black crew-neck sweater, along with a yellow-and-black checkered coat, similar to the red one he normally wears. I finish it off with his beanie.

He sidles up beside me with a smirk. “You want me to dress as a lumberjack?”

“I don’t know.” I giggle nervously, collecting the jacket to put it back on the hook. “You should have had Belinda do this for you. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He seizes my wrist before I can take two steps. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Discount yourself so easily.” He pulls the coat from my grasp and tosses it onto the bed. “I like confident women, and I think that beneath all this insecurity, there is a strong, self-assured woman.” Leaning in to plant a soft kiss on the side of my neck, he adds in a murmur, “And I can’t wait until you let me see her.”

A few orgasms and mind-blowing sex has definitely helped us get more comfortable around each other quickly.

I reach for his chest, my fingers gliding over still-damp but hot skin, memorizing the grooves and curves and ripples, all the way down to his towel. My hand just manages to cover the hard outline of his cock when he seizes it in his. His fingers squeeze and mold over himself, wrapping my hand over his girth.

“We don’t have enough time for what I want to do to you.” His whisper is pained.

I honestly don’t think I could handle any more sex right now; my body still feels thoroughly used from this morning. It’s a wonderful feeling though, knowing that Henry was there. Going about my day still feeling him there.

“We have fifteen minutes. Let me do what I want to do to you.” My fingers dip into the fold of the towel, pulling it apart until it falls to the ground and I have Henry standing naked in front of me again. I haven’t stopped thinking about the blow job I gave him yesterday. How much I enjoyed it, how much I wanted to do it again. Do it better.

His eyes burn as he watches me sit on the edge of the bed. I pull him toward me with my hands on his hips, face-to-face with his cock, swollen and glistening at the tip. My mouth waters. Just knowing that I’ve caused that reaction is enough to make me grow wet. I’m never not wet around Henry anymore, though.

“Who knew you’d be so greedy,” he murmurs. I look up to see the smirk on his lips before his hand comes around to the back of my head. Fingers weave through my hair and then he pulls me forward.

I lick him more confidently than I did yesterday, now that I know what he likes, flattening my tongue as I run it along the underside, leaving a glistening trail from root to tip. I do it again, only this time I let my small pink tongue dart out to tickle the ball sac hanging beneath, so heavy and full.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back in pleasure as I keep licking him, teasing him. “Suck me, please,” he finally begs.

I open my mouth wide and wrap my lips around his soft skin, taking in as much of him in as I can. He hits the back of my throat each time, and I’m so glad for my nearly non-existent gag reflex, something I never appreciated until now.

He tastes so good, like nothing I can describe, but I can’t get enough of it and the feel of him gently tugging my hair and the motion of his hips as he occasionally thrusts himself in.

Suddenly, he whispers, “Let me pull out. I want to come on you.” I release him and he slips his cock out of my mouth and pushes back against my shoulder. “Lean back, onto your elbows.”

I follow instructions, while watching him intently. With two strong, frantic hands, he grabs hold of either side of my blouse and tears. Buttons pop as the blouse rips open, all the way down to where it’s tucked into my skirt. He yanks against my bra cups until my breasts spill out the top.

And then he grabs hold of his heavy cock, still wet from my mouth and swollen, and he begins pumping it hard and fast and shamelessly.

It’s such an erotic sight to take in his beautiful, powerful body as he so confidently jerks off in front of me, that my legs begin spreading, my thighs opening up to him. It’s my body’s involuntary urge to feel him inside me.

“Push up your skirt.”

I do, letting it bunch around my hips. He hooks a finger around the crotch of my panties and he yanks until they slide down, past my knees, down to my ankles, exposing my sore sex to him. “What I would do to have that again right now,” he pushes out through gritted teeth. His hand suddenly shoots out, gently pushing me down until I’m lying on the bed.

With his loud cry, cum spurts out in hot streams all over my bare breasts and stomach and thighs. One stream lands right on my clit. His hand slows with the last spray, his pants hard and fast. “Christ, woman.”

“We need to have a discussion about your use of the Lord’s name.”

His head falls back with his deep laugh. I smile, watching this magnificent man in front of me, naked, laugh about something I’ve said while still recovering from orgasming with me. It’s just so intimate.

When his laughter dies down, he strolls to the vanity, dampening a washcloth. I can’t keep my eyes off his still semi-hard cock bobbing up and down on his way back. I want it in me again. I already miss that full feeling.

His hand is gentle as he wipes himself off my body, paying extra attention to the cum dripping off my nipples. When he gets to my lower half, he slides a finger across my sore clit and brings it to my lips. “Taste me.”

I open my mouth. He dips his finger in and I suck off the salty cream watching his eyes light up with excitement. “I like that you’re so eager.” He keeps wiping away until my skin is clean.

“I never thought that would be something a man would want to do, coming on a woman’s body.”

He grins darkly. “I can’t wait to show you all the things I like to do.”

My stomach spasms at the promise.

“You should work naked for me.”

“I may have to if you do that to my uniform again.” The buttons are torn and scattered, my skirt covered in his semen.

“Yeah, I went a little bit overboard. Run to your cabin and get changed and let me get dressed, or I’ll be late for this session. I’m already going to be late.”

I glance at the clock. That took all of eight minutes, giving him seven minutes to dress. Not enough time.

Taking me by the hand, he pulls me off the bed. I yelp at his swat against my ass. “I can’t have your naked tits in my face anymore or the outline of my cock will be on the cover of World Hotel.” Just before I duck out of his bedroom, he adds, “Toss the blouse. There’s no way to explain why it was ripped open.”

Shit. “My other one’s at the cleaners.”

“Don’t bother with the uniform today. Wear something casual.”

Casual. Okay. I fix myself as best I can, thankful for the sweater and vest I wore this morning, and then head for my cabin.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Can you turn your head to the left, just a touch. Yes. Perfect,” Hachiro croons, aiming his giant lens. “Fuck, these are going to be hot.”

I say nothing about the pint-sized Japanese photographer’s lack of professionalism, instead focusing on his subject, a sharp-looking Henry in the Tom Ford suit and gold tie that I laid out for him, leaning against a stack of armor stones outside the main lodge. I have to agree with him, though, and it’s not just because of the man he’s capturing. The entire vista is dreamlike. Most Americans will never venture this far north to see the foreign part of their own country.

“It must be something, working so closely with a man like that. He’s like steel. You can see the power he wields in his steady jaw,” Hachiro murmurs, glancing over at me, his narrow eyes drifting over my black leggings and hiking boots. They look decent enough with the vest and sweater that Henry bought me and, all in all, are the most stylish thing I own besides jeans. And, being next to Henry, I’m wishing I had an entire new wardrobe and someone to dress me.

I don’t take the overview personally. I noticed right away that he assesses everything and everybody within his line of sight. I guess it’s the photographer in him.

“Yes. He wields a lot of power.” I fight to roll my eyes.

Henry stands tall, calm and collected, seemingly unbothered by the guests who linger, watching as the handsome billionaire gets photographed.

Nothing like the version I saw only thirty minutes ago, his face contorted with ecstasy, his hand grasping himself so aggressively, his cries escaping from a deep and vulnerable place.

I hide my smile behind a sip of water. My intimate memories of him are mine and mine alone.

“Okay, now give me your back, and slide your hands into your pockets casually. Look into the distance, but give me your right profile,” Hachiro directs, nodding emphatically when Henry does as asked. I can already see this picture as being one I want to stare at for hours.

“When will the magazine be published?” I ask.

“Next month,” he confirms, then in a lower voice, “Hey, so do you think he’d agree to some nudes?”

I press my lips together to keep from bursting out with laughter. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

~ ~ ~ ~

“You were fine on the ferry trip over, weren’t you?” Henry peers at me with worried eyes as he steers the boat. Behind him, Hachiro’s face watches with a mix of annoyance and disgust. I am taking up valuable time with his steely muse, after all.

“Yes. But that boat was bigger and it wasn’t so rocky.” As if in answer, a gust of wind sweeps past, swaying Henry’s boat. And my stomach.

“We’re going back.” Henry begins turning the wheel.

“No! Don’t. You do what you need to do, and I’m just going to lie down in the cabin and wait for the Antivert to kick in. I’ll be fine.”

That doesn’t seem to appease Henry, but at least he doesn’t argue with me, allowing me to duck past him and through the small door to the cabin below. It’s cramped and yet quaint, reminding me of my aunt May’s small travel trailer, with a narrow couch on one side, a dinette table on the other, and a compact kitchen area behind me. Ahead, in the bow of the boat, I see a bed.

I head for that now, diving onto the wool blanket, inhaling the scent of Henry’s cologne. When did he lie here last?

Was he alone?

The thought of him with another woman twists my gut in an unpleasant way. A way that reminds me of catching Jed with that girl. I don’t think I can survive that again.

I push all of those thoughts aside and close my eyes, focusing on my breathing, hoping that the medication will work and that I don’t have to use the plastic bag I stuffed into my purse before boarding.

The sea sickness has almost subsided fifteen minutes later when my personal phone beeps with a text. I seldom get texts. Really, only one person texts me.

How is Alaska? I hear you’re working for some rich guy?

I haven’t talked to Jed since March, and this is the first message he sends me? I’m annoyed, and angry, and yet I can’t stop myself from responding.

Alaska is incredible. Yup. SUPER rich.

The old me would have responded with a “how are things?” question. But I let the phone fall to the mattress as I wait for his response, the deeply hidden vindictive part of me thinking of a hundred other highly inappropriate, hopefully hurtful things that I could respond with.

Yes, his name is Henry and he made me orgasm with his mouth.

You should see the size of his dick.

Cum is warmer than I expected.

My phone beeps with another incoming text. I’m surprised I’m even getting them out here.

What do you do for him?

I can’t help it. I burst out laughing.

“Abbi?” I hear Henry holler from outside the cabin. The boat’s engine has quieted, the motion slowed. I heard some commotion out there a moment ago. Maybe we’ve anchored.

“I’m fine,” I call back, smiling up at the ceiling. I’m more than fine. A week in Alaska and I’m doing exactly what I wanted to do: forgetting the past and encountering things I’ve never experienced before.

Like sex with a gorgeous, powerful man.

The cabin door pops open and Henry’s massive body squeezes through. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, except please tell me that Hachiro isn’t driving the boat.”

He chuckles, sliding into bed next to me. This is the first time we’ve lain together like this and the small, cramped space makes it all the more cozy in here with him. “Hell, no. I wanted to give you a chance to get better so I docked us. He’s up taking some pictures of my grandparents’ old place and finding a shoot location. I told him I’d be up soon.” He sighs. “The guy’s a little bit weird.”

I smile. “Yes, he is.”

“What were you laughing about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He waits for me with a raised brow, and I know he’s not going to let it go. “Jed texted me. I mentioned my new job to an old friend in an e-mail a few days ago and I guess it got back to him. You know, small town.”

“What’d he say?” His tone is less than amused, and I expected as much. He has never hidden how he feels about Jed.

I pull up the text and show it to him. When he scrolls through and reads the last line, he starts to chuckle. “What are you going to tell him?”

I shrug.

“May I?” His fingers start tapping out an answer before I can respond.

“What are you doing?”

He hands the phone back to me and I watch in horror as the green message lights up, having been received. “Oh my God! I would never say this!” I cry, reading over the entire thing.

I wash his dirty clothes, scrub his toilets, and tie his ties. I’m his personal Cinderella. TBH, the guy’s a fucking prick. But at least he’s something to look at and, I swear, I keep catching him staring at my breasts.

“Maybe you’ve changed.”

“Not that much.” I laugh, picturing the confused look on Jed’s face as he reads that. Will it worry him, to have some rich, hot “prick” eying me like this?

I don’t know if I even care anymore. Henry said that I’m doing this to get over him and for a while, it was easy to accept that. But I actually like Henry. I like being around him, and talking to him. I like taking care of him, even if he’s paying me to do it.

He pushes a strand of hair off my face. “How are you feeling? You’re still pale.”

“But not green, right?”

“No. Not green.”

“That’s good, because my hair doesn’t suit green.” I smile. “Give me another few minutes and I’ll be fine. And thanks for docking. That was nice of you.” I don’t know why I’m surprised that he’d be that considerate, but I am.

His hand slips beneath my shoulder to begin prodding me. “Roll over.” I do as asked and am pleasantly surprised when his strong fingers run down the length of my back, testing grooves and muscles with a touch of pressure, before circling back and doing it again. He’s giving me a back rub. It’s a very non-boss, non-fuck-buddy, boyfriend-y thing to do. But I push that thought out of my head and moan with appreciation.

“I wouldn’t be making noises like that, if I were you,” he warns, his voice turning gravelly.

“I can’t help it. This feels so nice.” I sigh and turn my head to face him, appreciating the way the crew-neck sweater that I picked settles around his thick, sinewy neck. “Black looks good on you.”

“Is that what color I’m wearing?” he asks mockingly, but then smiles.

“Hachiro seemed to like the casual woodsman look.”

“Yeah, he asked me if he could get a picture of me cutting firewood after this.”

I snort, and then giggle. “He asked me if you’d consider posing nude.”

“What?” Henry shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “What’d you say?”

“That you’d definitely be into that.” I keep a straight face for all of three seconds before I start to laugh and the gig is up.

“What a ballsy little guy.”

“You should do it. I’d buy that magazine.”

His hand makes its way down my back, only this time it keeps going, caressing the soft mounds of my ass, first one cheek, then the other. “You don’t work out, do you?”

“No, I’ve never felt that I needed to. Why?” An inkling of trepidation stirs. Is this his way of telling me that I should be sweating on a treadmill?

“Because my farm girl has one hell of a nice ass.” His fingers grip tightly—almost to the point of pain, but not quite. Enough to stir desire in me, to feel the telltale start of what will be soaked panties. Again.

But his words strike a chord within me. My farm girl. I’m his.

“I thought you were a boob guy,” I murmur, as his finger runs down my center, along my crack, and farther down.

He probes between my legs. “You’re warm here. And wet.”

“I don’t think I ever dried out.”

“Are you sore?”

“Yes,” I admit shyly. “But it’s a good sore.”

Easing up off his elbow, Henry disappears from view, but I can sense him there, behind me, his knees sinking into the bed on either side of my thighs. His fingers curl around the elastic of my leggings and he begins pulling them down.

“Henry! What about Hachiro!” I hiss, straining to turn my body and look out the cabin door, half-expecting to find a giant black lens aimed at my backside.

“Don’t worry, I locked it. And we’ll hear him if he jumps on. But he won’t, trust me. He wanted nothing to do with a seasick woman. He’s in heaven up there.” He adds in a low murmur, “And I’m in heaven down here.”

“This is...” I bite my lip nervously as the cool air skates over my bare backside, now exposed to him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. And you won’t take long.” He speaks so confidently as he slides my leggings all the way down past my knees. Then again, he’s probably right. I’m already panting for this man in anticipation of what he’s going to do. When he seizes me by the pelvis and hoists me to my knees, I let out a shaky laugh.

“Relax.”

I try to, closing my eyes and focusing on the feel of his warm, large hands as they seize either side of my ass, massaging each meaty cheek with skilled hands. And not on the fact that he has an unobstructed view of my entire behind, and stretching my body like that lets him see the part of me that only one other person has seen—Katie.

It’s almost exactly the same view that I had of Rachel that night, and so I know firsthand exactly how explicit that view is. My breathing grows ragged as his thumbs reach closer to my core, stretching out my folds to expose me. His mouth lands on the soft pink flesh moments later and I gasp as he begins probing me with his tongue, plunging it in and out, taking long swipes of my clit.

He’s right. I won’t take long at all.

“In answer to your question about being a boob man...”

His warm breath skates across that most private spot and I clench instinctively, but I can’t hide it from him. He’s hooked his arms around my thighs, holding my hips tightly and my legs spread, keeping me from squirming away.

I gasp as his wet tongue slides over my puckered skin.

“Relax,” he says again, his voice soft. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t enjoy it. And this ass of yours...” His finger traces around the rim in a circle. “I can’t wait to fuck it.”

My mouth drops open. I don’t know how I feel about that idea. Or this, right now. I’m still getting used to having this man’s face between my legs, let alone back there. But there's just no saying no to him, not that I’d want to. He doesn’t seem to hesitate, taking what he wants.

And he wants me. Every square inch of me, it would seem.

His hands smooth over my cheeks, and then he presses his erection against my hip. The tiny cabin fills with the sound of his heavy, heady pants. “I wish I had brought a condom,” he whispers.

He wants sex. Again. My body responds instantly.

“We need to get you on birth control.”

“I’m on it,” I blurt without thinking.

Dead silence. “You are?”

“Yes.”

“For your cycles,” he murmurs, as if suddenly understanding. He exhales, and I can feel it deep inside my chest. His hands grip either side of my hips. “I need in you. Now.” He pushes first one finger, then another, then a third one into me. I’m sore but wet, and the intrusion is welcome. “Let me come inside you.”

It sounds like a demand but I know it’s a question.

“I know you’re clean, and I’m clean—”

“Are you sure? I mean, when were you last with someone?” Am I allowed to ask that?

“I’m clean, I promise you.” He sounds so confident, so resolute.

And I want him inside me again. I want him to come inside me.

His hand must be waiting on his zipper because the second I say, “Okay,” I hear it unfasten. “Put your face in that pillow. This is going to be hard and fast and you can’t cry out,” he warns, positioning himself behind me.

I do as asked, his words alone making my pussy clench with anticipation.

His hands push against the inside of my thighs, guiding my legs farther apart, and then he presses his cock against me, into me. “Oh fuck, you feel like heaven.”

I’m sore, but I ignore the ache because I have Henry inside me again. This angle feels different than being on my back. Less intimate, dirtier, sexier.

He reaches around to touch my clit with two fingers, rubbing in circles while he pulls his cock in and out several times, letting my body get accustomed to him.

“We don’t have a lot of time. Are you ready?” Both of his hands grip my hips again, so tightly that I’m afraid I’ll have bruises there.

“Yes.”

This time when he pulls out, he slams back into me. I muffle my cry with the pillow.

“That’s it, baby. Take it.” He slams into me again, his pelvis hitting my ass.

And then his thrusts come hard and fast and punishing until, ten thrusts later, he’s gritting his teeth as his cock pulses inside me.

As he fills me with his seed.

“I’m sorry you didn’t come,” he whispers, pulling out. A trail of wet drips out and down my thigh. His cum, spilling out of my pleasantly abused pussy. “Hold on a sec.” Grabbing a tissue from a nearby box, he cleans me up and then slides my leggings back over my hips. “Feeling better now?” he asks, leaving a kiss on each ass check before climbing off the bed and opening a door to a tiny restroom. A tap turns on and I listen to him wash his hands.

I sigh with a smile. “Yes, I’m feeling better.”

He smirks. “I’ll meet you out on the dock.

I watch him leave, wondering for the thousandth time what I did to deserve that man’s affections.

My phone dings with an incoming text from Jed. I take a quick glance.

I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.

Sure you have. I toss my phone back into my purse and leave it there.

Unanswered.

~ ~ ~ ~

“This place is...” My words trail off as I stare in awe at the giant log beams that run the length of the ceiling in awe.

“Rustic?”

“Yes,” I agree, inhaling the scent of stale air and old cedar, pungent from lack of air circulation. “But stunning. I guess, because of the gold mines, I expected your grandparents to have something more like Wolf Cove.”

“It’s ironic, isn’t it? My grandfather started a luxury hotel chain and yet he preferred the simple life. He built this himself, nearly sixty years ago.” Henry palms the front of a massive stone fireplace that stretches two stories. “He built this whole place by himself.”

It’s not a huge, complicated cabin. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s about two thousand square feet, with a great room overlooking the water, a loft with three small bedrooms, and a kitchen and dining area in the back. Everything is made of cedar and hemlock, from the cupboards down to the floors.

“This is where you spent your summers?”

Henry nods, pointing toward the antique kitchen stove. “My grandmother loved to bake and cook. She’d be in there every afternoon, making something for my brother and me.” His hand runs across the rough wood mantel and a nostalgic smile touches his lips as he checks his hand for the thick layer of dust. “Some of the best days of my life were up here.”

“Where are your grandparents now?”

“They both passed. Now this place sits here, like a tomb of my childhood memories.” His gaze reaches the rafters. “I stayed here once, a few years ago. It wasn’t the same.”

“You need to make new memories here.”

He seems to ponder that for a moment. “Yeah, maybe.”

Hachiro pokes his head in from the porch. “Okay, I have the perfect setup. Can I get you out here?” He glances at me. “You look a lot better. More color in your cheeks.”