by Kelsey Green
“Nobody’s in love,” I corrected.
“Oh my God,” Cadence gasped. “You really do like him. I thought it when I read your blog about Sweet Hill, but I didn’t truly see it until you guys snuck off today. You’ve got it bad, sister.”
“I know,” I cried, relieved to finally being called out. “I like a kid’s camp cook.”
My wailing was sure to get the guys’ attention, but luckily, they seemed to brush it off, assuming I was whining about the hike as I’d already done ten minutes back.
“But he’s so much more than that,” Sasha added. “Obviously you figured that out.”
I had. What did it matter though when the optics still didn’t work? He lived in the woods, and despite this little stint today, this would never be the life for me. My bestie might have fallen for a mountain man and perhaps fallen in love with this place itself, but that was not my path. I didn’t belong here and that meant I probably didn’t belong with him.
“Wait, no one told him about my blog, right?” I asked, rehearing Cadence’s previous statement.
“We didn’t,” Cadence confirmed. “But you know Trent can’t hold water.”
“Which is why he doesn’t know,” Sasha added, giving Cadence a quick shove. “I never told him that Ivory has the Sassy Sugar blog.”
“As long as you know your man.” Cadence chuckled, sticking out her tongue.
As they continued their back and forth, I couldn’t stop my mind from going to Chef. The way he walked. Talked to me. Flirted with me. Looked at me. I was seeing it all for the first time again. Rewriting my first impressions and dictations through the lustful gaze I’d somehow acquired for him.
We might not be end game. A huge part of me would be surprised if we made it past this week at all. But I was done holding back any desires. My image was shot. My reputation was a mess. My whole world had changed in less than five days. Having nothing to lose was a freedom I hadn’t felt before. A freedom that deserved to be taken full advantage of.
“Goodnight, you two, sleep tight,” Trent yelled, zipping their tent shut.
The girls were supposed to be in one tent with the men in another. Until Trent pulled out a third one, claiming he’d already spent too many nights away from his queen, causing my girls to turncoat real quick.
“Well this has been a great date,” Chef said, adding wood to the fire. “Ready for bed?”
“You’ve really enjoyed this way too much,” I replied, climbing into our tent.
“I set up our entire tent and bedding myself because you refused after the hike, and I’m the one who’s enjoying this too much?”
“So, you’re not liking it?” I asked as he joined me inside, zipping it shut behind us.
“I didn’t say that either.” He shot me one of his infamously flirty smiles before placing the lantern onto the patterned, watertight floor.
My girls had really updated the Kathan’s Sporting Goods brand with their CS Lave and Luxury line. The tents we were sleeping in were so comfy and cute you’d never guess they’d just been erected. Everything could be made so compactable but expanded to these grandees sizes. You could hear the river in the distance, reminding me of my waterfall app I sometimes used to help me sleep. The real sound was even more serene than my app.
As we climbed into our cushioned-floor bed, I could feel Chef’s arm rubbing against mine, even through my thermal clothing they insisted I wear underneath my outdoor layer. Turning to face him, I was startled to meet his eyes, a calm expression exuding off his deep caramel skin. My legs clenched just feeling his gaze on me. His expression bore into me as though his deep brown irises could see into the depths of my soul. No one had ever looked at me like that.
The sensation should have been unnerving but it wasn’t. Rather, it equally calmed and excited me. Leaning down, I placed a gentle kiss on his lips, loving how soft his chin felt even with the five o’clock shadow he now had.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Just because,” I answered, ignoring the first few thoughts that crept into my head.
The corners of his mouth raised until the fullest, most handsome smile overtook his face. Placing his lips on mine, he pulled me toward him, caressing my upper lip and bottom lip separately before capturing my mouth in his. His actions were slow and sensual, his movements taking into account every moan and adjustment I made.
“What was that for?” I asked breathlessly the moment his lips left mine.
His naturally arched, full eyebrows rose before he spoke. “That was because I wanted to.”
The slight tensing of his body implied he wasn’t done. So, I silently waited, allowing my hand to explore his muscular arm as we both lay on our sides, taking in the moment.
“I loved your blog,” he blurted. “You talked about Sweet Hill and the B&B so eloquently it felt like you were taking my feelings about the town and writing them more beautifully than I could ever express them.” Reading my mind, his hand captured my chin, keeping my head in place just as I tried to look away. “Please don’t be embarrassed. I read numerous pieces and they were all amazing. Funny. Moving. Direct. Informative. Poetic. All different parts of you.”
Unable to speak, I rested my head back on the pillow, allowing his hand to cup my face instead of holding it. Moving a strand of my hair that’d escaped my satin scarf, he ended with, “Thank you. For not only coming home with me but being open to the beauty there and articulating it for everyone.”
“I didn’t really have a choice.” I smiled, trying to ease the intensity of his words. “Going home with you.”
“True. But you more than rose to the occasion. Elbow deep and everything.”
“You suck,” I snapped, shaking my head to try and loosen the memory of the goat. When I went to give him a light shove, he caught my arm, pulling me on top of him in one smooth motion.
“That was a nice move,” I said as he rested his arms around me.
“Thank you, I thought it’d work nicely.”
I relaxed my arms on his chest, leaning down to place my lips on his.
“Can I ask you a question?” I uttered just as our lips touched.
“Right now?” He nibbled on my bottom lip before pulling me in for a deep kiss.
I pulled away, still remaining on top of him as my curiosity built up. “Yes, right now.”
Jumping right into my question, I continued, “I overheard you and that ski resort chef discussing your recipes and him offering you that job. Is that why you were meeting with that chef in New York, too? Was she offering you a job?”
Chef laid his head back on his pillow, keeping his arms still secured around my waist. “She was,” he answered. “I met both chefs back in culinary school. One was an instructor and the other a student like me. I was great, coming in with more experience than most, but being stuck in some stuffy kitchen for twelve hours a day just wasn’t me.”
“I get it,” I replied.
“You do?” The surprise echoed from his voice as he returned my gaze.
“I do. Anyone who sees you out here or on the farm would understand why you like to be more hands on. From catching the food or gathering the ingredients yourself, to preparing and cooking it, you belong in the action.”
I smiled. “I heard all about the recipes you created for the B&B and restaurants around Sweet Hill. I think you should expand upon that. Pitch the idea to be an official recipe creator to your friend in New York and the ski resort, so contrary to working for them in shop every day you could just provide each with their own unique recipes that fit their individual menus. You may have to travel occasionally to teach them how to perfect the dishes, but otherwise you’d really be getting paid for your ideas while being out here like you wanted.”
The reflection in his eyes switched from overwhelmed to lustful in a matter of seconds. The wrinkles in his forehead relaxed, returning it to its usual even surface. When he flipped us, placing me gently on my back while hovering over me, I knew exactly what he wa
s thinking. We were about to cross a line I never expected us to cross and I was more than ready.
Chapter 8
CHEF
There was so much I wanted to tell her, yet, I couldn’t think past the desire reflected in her eyes that I was sure mirrored my own. Spending the past few days with her hadn’t been anything like I would have expected.
She’d always been an attractive woman, but in this moment, she looked sexy as hell, her curved, flirty smile making my dick jump in anticipation.
“We won’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” I muttered in between kisses. My voice was husky even to my own ears.
“Then I guess we’re in for a long night,” she teased, pulling my bottom lip in between her teeth. “Because tonight, I’m comfortable with any and everything.”
I leaned up to look down into her eyes, raising one eyebrow as I asked, “Are we finally on the same page about something?”
She brought my head to her mouth and whispered, “If that something includes both of us naked in this tent tonight, then yeah, we finally found something we agree on.”
I shivered at the way her breath played with my ear. “Princess, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
“You’re wrong, Jackson,” she murmured, kissing my neck, then moving to place a soft kiss on my cheek. “A princess always gets what she wants, and lucky for you, I just added you to the top of my New Year’s resolutions.”
My lips were back on hers within seconds, our kiss hungrier and more frenzied than before. Her legs wrapped around my waist and her hands gripped the back of my head, pulling me as close to her as I could get.
Her scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, her moans encouraging me to continue to do anything I could to please her. Breaking our kiss, I removed my long-sleeved thermal shirt before Ivory leaned up and I helped her remove hers. The lace peach bra she was wearing was damn near see-through, and as soon as I discarded her thermal leggings, I wasn’t surprised to see her wearing the matching panties.
“Sexy as hell,” I groaned, taking a moment to look down at her and appreciate the beautiful, curvy woman she was after I removed my pants as well. I’d meant for my exploration to only last a couple seconds, but nearly a minute later, I was still soaking in all that was Ivory.
A part of me expected her to get shy under my gaze, but I should have known by now that Ivory would never fail to surprise me. My eyes were pinned to her as she gently eased her bra straps off her shoulders before unclasping the front hook and tossing it to the side of the tent. When her hands reached her panties, I remembered that I was supposed to be an active participant and stopped her.
I sucked a nipple into my mouth, already addicted to the sweet taste of her skin, before I nibbled the other, earning me a gratified moan from Ivory.
“That feels so good,” she whispered, arching her back off the plush cushion, so I repeated the movements, slowly enjoying every bit of my princess.
My hands eventually found her panties and I eased them down her thick thighs, loving how breathless she sounded as I did so. With one more look up at her, I smirked before I began placing wet kisses along her thighs, my mouth eager to dive into the sweetness I’d been craving for longer than I cared to admit.
She squealed at the first touch of my tongue on her clit, the vibrations of my tongue matching the cords of her voice. She tasted so delicious, I could have spent all night feasting on her, but her orgasm crept up before I was done having my fun, her voice breathless when she said, “Now. Please … now.”
I didn’t need to ask for clarification as I only broke our connection to grab my wallet and put on a condom. Once we were protected, I positioned myself at her center and entered her in one slow thrust.
“Shit,” I huffed, the moment filled with so much, yet not enough. I enjoyed sex just as much as any man, but for me, having a connection with the woman I took to bed made the experience that much sweeter. Women deserved to be cherished. Desired. Sexed in a way that acknowledged the goddess within. Because, for me, there was nothing greater than making love with a woman who shared your same level of passion and pleasure.
I think a part of me had known that Ivory was different and that making love to her would be on a whole other level. As I stroked her insides, my dick diving into her sweetness in a way that was making me see stars, I had to accept the inevitable.
Ivory Vaughn was my willful match.
Ivory Vaughn was the one I’d been unsure I would find.
Ivory Vaughn was the reason I now knew how unexplainable connections could result in the kind of affection that could change your entire life.
We still needed to get to know each other, and I definitely wasn’t ready to admit all that to her, but in my gut, I knew that somehow, without me realizing, I’d found my princess, and damned if I wouldn’t be the first to admit how much that shocked the hell out of me.
IVORY
All morning I was filled with a bittersweet emotion. Last night with Chef had been unlike anything I’d experienced. He was a man in everything he did. The way he ate me out like I was his last meal before a year-long fasting. The way he cherished my body like a priceless work of art. The way he satisfied my needs like he could read my damn mind every damn second.
I was hooked. He had given me a week to remember, topping it off with a night I yearned to repeat. Not in the snowy, winter mountains where I’d need to sneak off to pee and fall bare assed in the freezing snow. But rather, in a secluded beach bungalow where he wouldn’t need to cover my mouth to ensure our friends couldn’t hear my screams in their tents. Although, getting warmed up by him in the tent each time I returned was a highlight.
He encompassed everything I was raised to never want. A man with more substance than money. A man who followed his heart. A man who was more caring, sexy, and downright real than any man from my stuffy circles. Being with him in this short time had taught me just how wrong my mother was about so many things. A truth I always knew deep down, but somehow had forgotten in all the pressures of becoming a socialite like her.
Jackson Keating. The thought of him made me smile and shake my head at the same time. He was homebred and I was couture. Our lives were night and day. He belonged here, in the woods living his adventurous life. I belonged in the city, surrounded by civilization. There was no way to make it work, but my mind remained debating, trying to convince the other side I was wrong each time a conclusion was made.
“Figure out what you’re going to do about losing all those followers yet?” Chef handed me a maple muffin.
“I thought we ate all these last night at the campfire,” I said, avoiding his question.
“I saved it for you to have with your coffee. Figured you deserved the last one for roughing it out here in the woods.”
“Then you a correct.” I took the muffin from his hand, breaking off a piece to share with him. “Thank you, I really do love these.”
“So, what about the followers?” he asked again, clearly not letting me off the hook.
Our friends were off packing up the last of the supplies. I appreciated the extra time with Chef. Our bickering continued, but ended in sweet kisses now instead of hostile volume disputes. Though, to avoid discussing my social status, I would gladly accept a Trent-sized interruption right now.
“I have no idea,” I replied. “Thanks for not catching a hint.”
“Oh, I caught the hint.” He smiled. “But what if I told you I had a solution?”
The sneaky expression on his face only intensified as he left me in suspense.
“What is it?” I yelled, stepping closer to him.
He let the expression linger a moment longer before responding. “You could rebrand. Your blog has been getting a lot of attention from what I saw yesterday before we left the camp, and I think you should publicize that, incorporating the blog into your image. I believe your fans and new fans alike would love to see the true food-loving Ivory who can get down in goat dung on
occasion to find a hysterical woman’s wedding ring.” He let out a brief laugh, unable to control himself. “You’re fashionable and drop-dead gorgeous no matter what you’re doing. So maybe it’s time to show the other sides of you as opposed to the socialite character you’ve been working so hard to uphold.”
“Admit that I’m behind Sassy Sugar and completely rebrand?” I questioned. “No one would expect it.”
His words were still registering, racing around my head like cars on a track when he continued, “Not that you need any help, but I do know a handful of chefs who would love to get a feature in your blog. Launching your official adaptation into a legitimatized food blogger and critic.”
“How the heck would you be able to pull that off?” I asked. He was plainly blowing smoke. Chef had impressed me endlessly as of late, but even he couldn’t manage that.
“While you slept in, I might have been too excited and borrowed the satellite phone Ace packed for emergencies to make a few calls. Turns out you’re a genius and the multiple culinary buddies I worked with in the past would all love to pay me for personalized recipes. Being a chef with one specialty that they’ve worked on for years has left more than a couple stagnate in their menu variety. Making me the perfect alternative.”
“Oh my Beyoncé,” I yelped. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you.”
He hugged me tightly before placing me back down. “But that’s not all. They would also all be open to a review from you and an interview if you’d like. You already know about the chef from New York and the ski resort, but a few of my other associates work for pretty prestigious restaurants as well.”
I let out a deep exhale, still trying to take in his revelations. How he managed to do all this so quickly under my nose was astonishing in itself. Let alone the groundbreaking news he was shelling out. Unable to find any words, I pulled him close, placing a kiss on his lips full of all the emotions I couldn’t express. He’d not only planned for himself but for me as well. Something Jackson Keating was said to never do.