Текст книги "Wolf Bait"

Автор книги: Nina West

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Another thing I’m going to need to get used to.

I bring the flask to my mouth and take a big, wince-inducing gulp.

~ ~ ~ ~

“So, you’re an es... esthe...” I can’t get the name out, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the word or the alcohol that Tillie’s been pumping into me.

“Esthetician. Yes.” Katie giggles, flipping her silky mane of blonde hair over her shoulder. “I worked for the Hilton for a couple years, but I got laid off last December. Wolf hired me on contract for this job. We’ll see how things go. Maybe I can get transferred to a permanent location when the season’s over. They have hotels all over the world.”

“What exactly does an esthetician do, again?” The closest place I’ve been to a beauty salon is Sheila’s Clip ’N’ Color shop on Main Street, back home. Sheila, my mama’s childhood friend, has been trimming my hair for as long as I can remember.

“Anything related to beauty and grooming. That’s me. That’s what I love.” All it takes is a once-over of her to see that. Perfectly shaped and painted nails, glowing skin, shaped brows. “Facials, chemical peels, mani-pedis, waxing, makeup application.”

“I’ve never had any of those things done,” I admit.

“Really?” Her blue eyes slide over my face. I don’t think she’s all that surprised. “You should let me do your eyebrows. It takes, like, ten minutes. Tops.”

“Does it hurt?” I glance around, suddenly embarrassed that someone can hear this conversation. I don’t see that happening, though. The staff lodge has come alive with laughter and music as compared to an hour ago when I was cramming in dinner. A guy with a beanie sits by the fireplace, strumming an acoustic guitar. If there was a piano here, I’d try to match his notes. That’s one thing that I will miss about not being back home for the summer: access to the piano in our family room. I’ve been playing since I was six; mostly church hymns though. Sometimes, when Old Mollie Simmons isn’t feeling well, Reverend Enderbey asks me to play at Sunday service.

“Not really. Well, not your brows, anyway.” She laughs. “It’s so worth it. Especially for the summer, when you don’t want to be worrying about stubble under your arms or bikini line. I can do it all for you, if you want. I do Rachel’s all the time, and she loves it.”

“But she’s bald down... there,” I blurt out, then blush because I’ve basically admitted to checking her out earlier.

“It’s a good look, trust me. Just say the word and I’ll clean you right up.” Katie winks. “And guys love it, too.”

Jed said he didn’t understand why a woman would want to make herself look like a little girl. He thought he’d prefer some hair. I wonder if he still prefers that.

Then again, I’m not doing anything for Jed anymore. Still... “I’d have to be drunk.”

She clanks her glass with my bottle of water. “Well then, cheers to that.”

“Hey, Abbi. I’m turnin’ in for the night. We have to be up in a few hours.”

Few hours? “What time is it?” I squint at my watch; the hands are blurry.

“It’s two. Training starts at nine, and if you don’t want to wait in line for a shower, you need to get in there before seven.”

Shit. How am I even still up? Especially with the time-zone change. “Okay. I’m coming.”

Katie squeezes my thigh affectionately, the simple touch making me feel all the more comfortable in this group of strangers. “We’re not too far behind you. Night.”

I stand. And take several stumbling steps into a tall guy.

He wraps his arms around my waist to steady me, but he doesn’t let go. “Whoa there, little lady. You okay?” He sounds like he’s from down south. He has that charming southern drawl, but it’s different from Tillie’s.

I tip my head back and peer into smiling emerald-green eyes. “Yup. But thank you for saving me anyway.”

He grins at me. “You sure are a cute little thing.”

“I don’t want to be cute,” I grumble. “Cute gets left on the sides while “hot” gets bent over the couch by my boyfriend because he can’t control himself.”

That wasn’t meant to be spoken out loud.

“Whoa.” The guy holds his hands in the air, palms out. I peel myself away from him and stumble to Tillie, my face burning, whispering, “I blame you and your devil juice for this.”

“I’ve got your water. You’re gonna need it.” She hooks an arm through mine and leads me out the doors and into the night.

“It’s warmer out here than it was before. How did it get warmer?”

Her chuckles float into the darkness as we make our way down the path, lit with lampposts every twenty feet or so. “The magic of Jim Beam, that’s how.”

“I love your accent. You know that? Like, I could kiss your accent if it were an actual thing. It’s that hot. Isn’t it beautiful out here? I mean,” I let my head tip back, “look at this sky. You don’t get this kind of sky just anywhere.”

“I keep readin’ about those northern lights. I’m hopin’ to see them before I leave.”

“Aurora Borealis,” I murmur, closing my eyes and smiling, letting her lead me. That would be a sight.

Voices and laughter ahead catch my ear.

“Damn...,” Tillie murmurs appreciatively, and I follow her eyes to see what has caught her attention. Three guys stroll out of the men’s shower room, the white towels wrapped around their waists glowing in the dark. Each one of them is broad and hard and rippled with muscles.

I’ve only ever had eyes for Jed. Since February, I’ve had eyes for no one at all, uninterested in giving anyone a second’s thought. Maybe it’s the distance or the foreign world up here, or maybe it’s the alcohol, but I am appreciating this view. The alcohol is definitely giving me the confidence to ogle them shamelessly.

“And that would be your Outdoor crew.” A few steps closer, Tillie calls out with, “Good evenin’, gentlemen. It’s a little bit cold to be prancin’ ’round half-naked, don’t you think?”

The one closest to her, a blond with a casual swagger in his step, slows. “You offering to warm me up, Tillie?”

I guess they’ve already met.

“That’s what the robes in your cabin are for.” She flashes a deceptively sweet grin back at him. It must be a southern thing, because all the women from the south have that smile down pat.

He steps into her personal space—and, by default, mine, since our arms are still linked—but she stands her ground. “But you’re so much warmer.” His pretty blue eyes turn to settle on me. “And who’s this lovely young lady?”

“This is Abbi from Pennsylvania.”

“She another roommate?”

“That’s right.”

Turning his gaze back to Tillie, his eyes settling on her perky chest, he murmurs, “What I’d do to get into that cabin of yours.”

I can’t tell if he’s talking about literally coming to our cabin, or if he’s being figurative, but I do know that either way, it involves sex.

“Like a fox in a hen house, right? Y’all have a good night, now.” Tillie leads me around him and farther down the path.

I glance over my shoulder and see them still watching us. The blond winks at me and I can’t keep the stupid grin from taking over my face. “How do you know them?”

“I met Connor last night. He’s as smooth as freshly churned butter, that one. Watch out for him, if they sort out your job situation. He’ll charm the pants right off of you by lunch hour.”

“Maybe that’d be a good thing. Jed is taking his pants off for the jezebel every day now and he wants me to cross my legs until he’s ready to come back. Why should he get to have all the fun?”

“Jed? The ex-boyfriend?”

“Ex-fiancé.” I’m still numb to the earned title of “ex.” “He cheated on me and broke my heart, but I’m supposed to wait for him to get her out of his system. That’s why I’m in Alaska.” The knot that normally springs up in my throat at the mention of Jed stays down and out of sight for once. That’s a relief. Maybe this is the trick to getting over him. Alcohol and scantily clad hunks.

“Ouch.” She gives my arms a squeeze. “Well, don’t you worry, hun. There is plenty to choose from here to make you forget about Jed and the jezebel.”

“Jed and the jezebel. That could be the title of a play or something.”

“I’d rather watch the ‘Abbi Gets Even with A Hot Dude’ play.”

I laugh. Tillie’s so sweet, and caring. I really like her. And I feel the urge to wrap my arms around her and give her a giant hug, so I do.

Her melodic laugh carries through the night. “Oh, dear Lord. Maybe not so much Jim Beam next time. You may regret it in the mornin’.”

“But it’ll have been worth it, because I had so much fun tonight.” Mama clearly hasn’t ever drunk before, because if she knew how much fun it is being drunk, she wouldn’t want to deprive me of it. I’ve become so comfortable around the other Wolf staffers so quickly.

“Yeah, we’ll see. Make sure you finish that water before bed. And maybe take some Advil.”

Cabin seven arrives too soon, and I’m feeling alive for the first time in forever. “I’m going to hang out here for a few more minutes, enjoy the fresh air. It’s helping me clear my head.”

“All right. But be quiet when you stumble in, you hear? Lorraine went to bed already.” Tillie swipes her key card and disappears inside.

I want to go for a walk. The staff village is behind the lodge and separated from the guest section by a thick cedar hedge and decorative fencing. It’s a bit like a secret garden. I’d like to investigate it during the daylight. Right now, though, I wander along the path, pocket flashlight in hand in case I need it, my sneakers crunching beneath the gravel. Even in the middle of the night, it’s beautiful. The paths are well lit, and there are security cameras everywhere. I feel safe. I’m not normally so comfortable with walking around alone at night. I’m sure once the hotel opens in a few days, I won’t have the luxury of this absolute quiet.

A squirrel leaps from its branch and runs across the path in front of me, giving me a moment’s pause. Do I have to worry about coming face-to-face with a wild animal? No. Belinda mentioned the electric fences around the perimeter.

I make my way past the hedge and over to the main guest area, eyeing the honeycomb of balconies above me. Each will be alive with guests soon. Apparently they all have hot tubs. I’ve never been in a hot tub before. These ones are for guests only, though. As are both the indoor and outdoor pools, and the hot springs. Basically it sounds like the only thing the staff is allowed to swim in is the bay, at the small staff beach I haven’t yet seen.

I wonder how cold the water is. Is it warmer than the air?

I could dip my fingers in and check...

Before I can think it through, I turn down the path toward the docks that I arrived on earlier, stumbling over a rock before I manage to regain my footing. I’m drunk. I need to be more careful if I’m going near the water.

The dock at night is picturesque, marked at the edges with lanterns, as well as several coach lights. Beyond that is nothing but darkness and stars.

My feet hit the cedar planks with a thump. “Shh!” I warn, and then laugh, because no one’s out here and I’m talking to myself. Down the long path I go, past the ferry, past a sizeable white boat, the waves lapping quietly at its side to make a soft thumping sound, to the end, marked by a tall rod with a light on the tip.

Dropping down to my knees, I lean forward, stretching my fingertips outward.

My glasses slip off my nose and plummet into the deep waters.

“No!” I cry, stretching my arm far in my useless attempt to grab them.

A sudden pounding of feet behind me is the only warning I get before hands seize my waist and yank me back and to my feet.

“What the hell are you doing?” an angry male voice exclaims.

“My glasses fell in!” I cry.

“Forget them. They’re gone.”

“I can’t forget them!” They’re my only pair and I can barely see ten feet in front of me without them. Sure, I brought contacts because I wear those while working outdoors, but I need my glasses.

“They’re gone,” he reiterates. “What on earth are you doing out here, anyway?”

“I wanted to see how cold the water was.” His hands are still gripping my waist as if afraid I’m still going to fall in. I try brushing them away but they’re like vise grips.

“I promise you, it’s freezing. Though you almost took a nosedive in and found out for yourself.”

I scowl. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I was watching you the entire time. I’m surprised you even made it on two feet this far.”

I squint into the light to see exactly who is scolding me, but his back is to the lamppost and his face is cast in shadow. All I can see is a dark mop of hair and a beard. “Why are you lurking out here in the middle of the night, anyway?”

“I wasn’t lurking,” he mutters. “I was enjoying a peaceful night on my boat and I heard you stumbling up the dock.”

I frown, peering over at the boat in question, now even blurrier than before. “I didn’t notice anyone there.”

“Not surprised. Come on. You need to go to bed.” His hand slides around my lower back and prods me toward shore.

A rare defiant streak surges. I didn’t fly thousands of miles away from my overbearing mama only to be scolded and ordered around by a stranger. I jab his chest with my finger. “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not the boss of me. The boss is the boss of me. And he can boss me.” I’m not sure that made much sense.

“And who is he?” Amusement laces his tone.

“I don’t know. Some arrogant big bad wolf billionaire who sleeps with Victoria’s Secret models and changes women like underwear. He sounds like a complete jerk. But you’re not him. You’re...” I’m leaning against his chest now. A broad, solid chest, his muscles hard against me. I reach up with the hand I used to poke him to touch the few weeks’ worth of growth covering his face, my fingertips scratching across the coarse hair. “A lumberjack.”

“A lumberjack.”

“Yes. With this beard and this,” I rub my hand over his flannel checkered jacket, sitting open, and then to the shirt beneath, reveling in the ridges of his stomach. “Definitely a lumberjack. Did they hire lumberjacks to cut wood for that giant fireplace in there? They’ve hired people for everything else. I mean, seriously, who comes up to Alaska to get their pubic area waxed and their hair colored? And yet there’s a full-service salon!”

His hands have found my waist again. He takes several steps backward, pulling me along with him.

But I dig my heels in. “I’m not going anywhere until I check the water for my glasses! I have a flashlight!” I yell, earning his shush.

He heaves a sigh. “Will you let me take you back to your cabin immediately after?”

“Once I do that, I will happily go to bed with you. Not with you. I’ll go to bed. I’m not going to bed with a lumberjack.” My tongue feels thick and slow as it trips over my rambling words.

“Fine. But I’m holding on to you the entire time. The owner doesn’t need any of his employees drowning.”

“Deal.”

He leads me back to the edge and drops to his knees with me. “Sit your ass right down or you’ll end up pulling us both in.”

“That’s no way to speak to a lady.”

He snorts. “It is when she’s as stubborn as a mule and as drunk as an Irishman.”

Damp cold from the dock seeps through my jeans as I follow his order. He has large, strong hands and they grip my slender middle tightly as I lean down, shining the small beam of light from my pocket flashlight against the murky waters below. His hand that’s closer to the water slides up to rest underneath my breast. I briefly consider telling this burly lumberjack that he’s touching me inappropriately, but a part of me doesn’t care right now.

“I can’t see them.” The water level is much lower than I expected. I can’t even skim the top with my fingertips. I would have fallen in, had he not been there to grab me.

“No shit.” He hauls me up with seemingly no effort, the quick movement making the world spin a bit. “Where are you staying?”

“Cabin...” My words trail away as I finally see his face for the first time, bathed in a stream of light. Steely blue eyes stare down at me. Even with heavy scruff covering his face, I can tell that his jaw is strong and angular. And that mouth... I am utterly riveted to those plump lips. I can’t help myself. I reach up and graze them with my fingertips, wisps of hair around the outside edges tickling my skin. They’re as full and soft as they look and they part for me slightly, enough that my fingertips get wet, and warm breath skates across my skin.

My stomach bursts into butterflies as my own lips part.

I’ve heard people say that alcohol can change your perception, can make you believe that someone is better looking than they are in the sober light of day. I think they call it beer goggles. But I haven’t been drinking beer and, besides, for my eyes to deceive me like this would be a cruel trick by Satan himself.

I’ve never seen such a handsome man in real life.

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, and then my face flushes when I realize that I said that out loud. But it’s okay that I did, I tell myself. It’s true, and he needs to know.

I gather my nerve and shift my attention from his mouth up to his eyes to find his intense gaze weighing down on me, skating over my features before resting on my mouth. He leans down, his lips reaching for mine. My heart begins racing, anticipating the feel of them on me, wondering if they’ll be firm or soft, demanding or yielding. How does a man like this kiss?

I want to let go, to let this complete stranger do whatever he wants with me.

He pulls back and gives his head a small shake. “Let’s get you home. Which cabin are you in?”

“Seven.” I pause, peering up again, my eyes roaming that handsome face. “Seriously, do you know how beautiful you are?”

“All right, let’s get you home fast.” He hooks an arm around the backs of my knees, one around my shoulders and hoists me up into a cradled position, earning my surprised yelp.

“I can walk!” Though, being in this man’s arms, with my arm wrapped around this big, strong neck and my body pressed against this chest, is so new and exciting.

“Slow and stumbling and blind, yeah. But I need to be rid of you now.”

“Be rid of me? Am I that awful?”

His focus is locked on the path ahead of us. “You’re drunk and I know exactly where this is heading. It can’t, that’s all. Don’t take it personally.”

“And where exactly is this heading?” Was he seriously about to kiss me? No, that’s not possible. A guy who looks like this doesn’t try to kiss a girl like me, lumberjack or not.

His dark, low chuckle fills the night air. “I can’t tell if you’re playing coy right now, or if you’re actually that clueless.” When I don’t answer, his gaze flitters to meet mine for a second. “To places a girl like you shouldn’t go tonight.”

I snort. “Great. You’re protecting my virtue, too, now? Did my mama call you?” I stare at him as he walks on, ignoring me. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-one.”

Ten years older than me. Thirty-one and a face like that; I’ll bet he has slept with lots of women. I’ll bet he’s experienced. I’ll bet he could teach me all kinds of things with those fingers that are currently clutching my body tightly. Things that Jed couldn’t, or didn’t want to. Thoughts of Jed make my stomach tilt. I quickly push them away. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He seems to hesitate. “No.”

“Neither do I. A boyfriend, I mean. I had a boyfriend. Well, a fiancé, actually. His name is Jed. We were going to get married next summer, but he cheated on me with the jezebel.” The gravel crunches beneath the lumberjack’s feet as I ramble on. “That’s what my mama calls those kind of women—jezebels. I saw her. She’s beautiful and sexy, so I guess I know why he’d leave me for her. Anyway, I’m supposed to wait for him to sow his wild oats. He asked me to wait, said he’d come back. Our families are so sure he’ll come back to me.”

“And you’ll take him back, won’t you.” His tone mocks me, as if he’s both unsurprised and repulsed by the idea.

“No. I mean, I don’t think so.” I sigh. Who am I kidding? It’s the reason I held on to that ring instead of casting it into the deep waters. “I can’t help but hope that he’ll realize what a mistake he’s making and come crawling back, begging for forgiveness.”

“And you’ll give it to him.” Again, not a question.

“No!” A moment later, I admit with a grumble, “Maybe.” Not because I forgive him; not because he didn’t hurt me so badly. “He’s all I’ve ever known. He’s been a part of my life for so long. We had everything planned out. Now, I’m lost.”

Lumberjack doesn’t want to be listening to this; I can tell by the steely look across his face. But I haven’t talked about it with an impartial person before. My friends tell me that I should despise Jed, and everyone back home tells me to bide my time.

Somehow dumping all this on a complete stranger feels therapeutic.

“I don’t want to be pathetic. I don’t want to be there for him if he does come back. I want to be over him, moved on.” Sadness fills my chest. “But it’s hard to get over someone you’ve loved since you were five years old.”

Lumberjack doesn’t say a word. It’s annoying.

“How do I do that?”

He turns to meet my gaze, his mouth mere inches away in this position, so close that his sigh skates across my skin. That’s the only answer I get before he turns his focus back to the path.

Now that I’ve opened up to him, I can’t seem to stop. “That’s why I came to Alaska. I wanted to get away from my life for a while, at least until I have to go back to college. I don’t know what I’m going to do after. Jed and I were going to move back home, get married, and take over the farm. And have lots of sex. Sex, sex, and more sex. It’s all about sex with you guys, isn’t it?”

He takes a deep breath and adjusts my body tighter into his arms.

“So now he’s busy parading the jezebel around my home town, probably having all kinds of sex in our private spots, while I’m in Alaska. He asked me not to be with anyone. Can you believe that? He’s screwing around with this other girl and yet he asked me to wait for him, to save myself for our wedding night. Can you believe that? Would you ever expect your ex to wait around for you like that? I should just go and do it with someone, so that if he does come back, I can scream, ‘too late! No virgin wife for you.’ I don’t want to be a virgin anymore. I need to find someone who will have sex with me here.”

Lumberjack’s footsteps falter and I squeeze his neck tightly, afraid we’re going to fall in a heap. “You’re a—How old are you?”

“Twenty-one. I hate that part of me still loves him. We have so much history. But then part of me...” I tip my head back to look at the vast expanse of stars above. I know they’re somewhere up there, but I can’t see them anymore.

He nudges my head with his shoulder. “No passing out on me.”

I pull my head up and lean it against his body, burrowing in until my cold nose is pressed against his neck. I inhale deeply. “You smell good. Expensive. Is that cologne, or aftershave, or soap, or—”

“Christ,” he hisses. “Do you normally talk this much?”

“No? I don’t think so. It must be the alcohol. I’ve never been drunk before. It’s fun.”

Now he does chuckle, a low rumble that I feel deep inside my chest, and farther down, into the pit of my belly. “You might not think that tomorrow morning.”

Where was I? Oh, right... Jed. “A part of me hates his guts. We were supposed to be each other’s firsts and then he went off and did it with someone else, after all this time because he’s a guy and he’s too weak to wait. If he’d asked me, if he told me he couldn’t wait, I would have done it. Why wouldn’t he just ask me?”

When Lumberjack doesn’t answer, I press. “Do you not know how to carry on a conversation?”

His stern face cracks with a smirk. “Is that what we’re doing?” He looks down and when he doesn’t see me smiling back, his face smooths over.

“I don’t understand.” A sudden unexpected wave of emotion hits me, and before I know what’s going on, hot tears are streaming down my cheeks. “Is it because I’m not pretty enough for him? He always said he liked me like this, not like those other girls who plaster their faces with makeup. But then he turns around and starts dating one of them! Maybe I need to wear makeup?” I gaze at the lumberjack’s face, his eyes locked straight ahead. “Do you think I need to wear makeup?”

His jaw tenses. “No.”

I wipe away my tears with my free hand. “Do you think I’m pretty? I know I’m plain. I’ve just never been into all that girly stuff.”

Finally, his blue eyes shift from the path to meet mine, where they rest for a long moment before sliding down to my lips and farther, to where my breasts press against his chest. “He would have cheated on you whether you fucked him or not. Be glad you didn’t.”

I don’t know if that brings me any comfort. I do know he didn’t answer my question. “So, should I...” I stall over the word he used, unable to bring myself to say it. “Should I be with someone else? Or should I wait?”

His bottom lip disappears between his teeth, as if he’s holding back his words.

“How do I get over him?” My voice is almost pleading.

“By spending the next four months fucking someone in every position imaginable.”

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of it, more than once. But it was always from a place of pain and rejection, a place I knew would drive me to have regrets down the road. “I don’t want just ‘somebody.’” Right now, the way my body’s responding to him, I want the lumberjack.

I trace the back of his neck with my fingertips. His arms are so strong, his body is so tight, his face so striking. Every fiber of my body is in tune with his, my skin prickling with the thought of these hands touching my bare skin. What would it be like to be naked with someone so big and masculine?

I twirl the little curly wisps of hair within my shaky but unusually bold fingers. “Have you ever been with a virgin?”

He inhales with a light hiss. “Not for a long time.”

“Why not?”

“I prefer women over little girls.”

I swallow against the burn of that rebuff. He’s calling me a little girl. “So inexperience bothers you?”

“It’s never appealed to me.” A wicked smirk touches his lips. “Though you wouldn’t be inexperienced for long.”

A flush races through my entire body almost instantly, the heat building between my legs at the way he talks, as if sex is a real possibility between us. Pressing my lips together to try and hide my nervous grin, I reach up to run my fingers through his beard again. What would that feel like against my skin if he kissed me? I’ve never kissed a man with a beard. I’ve never kissed anyone but Jed. “I’ll bet if you shaved your face, you’d be even more beautiful.” His jaw tenses as I caress the edge of his jaw slowly, imagining what he looks like beneath.

“Maybe I don’t want to be more beautiful.”

“You know what I mean, Lumberjack.” I rest my head against his broad frame again, burrowing my face further into his thick neck because it feels so nice and warm in there. I notice one of the buttons on his shirt has popped open. I reach for it, intent on fixing it for him, and accidently tug another one open in the process. “Oops. Sorry.” My fingertip skates across hot exposed skin as I try to fix it one-handed. Oh my God. This guy’s chest. I understand what “rock hard” means now. His skin is smooth, with a faint line of hair trailing down the middle. “Are you staying here, in the village?”

“Sure.”

“Which cabin?”

“Why?”

“Because maybe I want to find you tomorrow?”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know?”

A cocky grin flashes. “Because if you remember any part of tonight, you’ll be avoiding me for the rest of the summer.”

I scowl into his neck. “You think you have me all figured out. What if I just want to say hi?”

“I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Fine.” My lips have been skating across his skin while I talk. Now I run my tongue along them, because it’s the closest I can get without actually licking him. “You taste salty.”

A shaky breath escapes him and he speeds up.

Did I just turn on the lumberjack? Jed used to breathe like that when I sucked on his earlobe. My ego sure could use the boost right now. “What if I wanted to find you for other things?” Man, alcohol makes me brave.

There’s a long pause. “What other things?”

I let my cool nose brush back and forth against his neck. His neck muscles strain with a hard swallow. “You know...”

“You can’t even say it, can you?”

“Not when I’m sober,” I admit. “But you’ve got drunk Abbi tonight, which means you’re in luck.”

“Then say it,” he murmurs, his tone suddenly low and taunting.

We’ve entered the village now. I’ll be at my cabin soon, and my time with the lumberjack and this uncharacteristic bravery will be over. Taking a deep breath, I lift my head enough for my mouth to reach his ear. “Would you fuck me if I asked you to?”

His chest rises against me and then he exhales. “Maybe.” His already deep voice has grown husky and I feel that one word right between my legs. “And what else?”

My giggles are laced with embarrassment. “There’s more? I don’t know. I’ve never passed first base. I’ve never even had a guy touch me down there.”

“Here we are. Cabin seven.”

Before I realize what’s happening, my feet are hitting the ground, and I’ve lost the pleasing warmth of his body against me. I reach out and grab fistfuls of his jacket, the ground unsteady.

“Where’s your key?” he whispers, seemingly in a rush.

“Back pocket.” I frown at the gravel. It’s moving.

His arms wrap around me, one settling on my lower back. Warm fingers slide against my butt as he searches my right pocket.

“Wrong one.” I giggle, the wide grin on my face no doubt idiotic.

His hand quickly retreats and searches the other one, pulling out the card.

“You touched my bum. You should at least tell me your name.”

He pauses, his eyes on the key and the door. With a sigh, he offers, “It’s Henry.”

“Hmm... Henry.” I lean—okay, fall—against his chest and rope my arms around his waist in a hug. Tipping my head back to see his striking face illuminated under the cabin door light, I whisper, “So, about that thing we were talking about.”

His jaw tenses but in his eyes, I’m sure I see amusement dance. A gentle tug against my braid has my head dipping farther back. My lips part as he leans down, preparing myself for a kiss. “Stop baiting me and go to sleep.”