by Ember Leigh
Footsteps approached. He turned on his heels. Wesley watched him, a look of astonishment on his face.
“Did I step into an alternate universe? Are you actually alone with a child of your own volition?”
Garrett shifted Emmy to his other side. She had begun to fuss, perhaps realizing her mother was nowhere nearby. “I’m watching her…Rose is trying to make a call.”
Wesley looked them up and down. “How’s the flooring going?”
“Good. We had to take a break since Emmy shit herself.”
“Rose couldn’t handle it by herself?”
“I thought I could help.” He shrugged.
“You’re trying to get on Mom’s good side, I see.” Wes eyed him. “You sly dog.”
“Shhh.” Garrett covered Emmy’s ears. “We have a potential spy in our midst. I don’t need you revealing all my tactics.”
“Oh, please. You’re seriously thinking about Rose like that?”
“Well, I mean…” It sounded ridiculous in the air between them. “She’s a really interesting, beautiful person…and I—”
“I highly recommend you don’t sleep with our crash victim because she’s interesting and beautiful. And don’t tell me it’s more than sex—you know nothing about her, I should remind you. Besides, she’s leaving soon, and she has a child, for God’s sake, which you know nothing about.”
Wesley brought up a lot of good points, all of which Garrett had already considered. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t learn.” God, had those words actually come out of his mouth?
“Listen, women like her want men who can be partners; you know, people who can help with the kids and the chores and be an active part of a baby’s life, not living God-knows-where in a hotel for six months of every year with a bunch of construction workers.”
“Christ, Wesley, I’m not trying to marry her. I said she’s interesting and beautiful. You can stop with the long-range doomsday planning now.”
Wesley’s comments were both absurd and on the nose, but Garrett couldn’t let him know he’d ever actually considered any of those things. She made him lose his balance, that was all. Clearly, his brother knew him better than he thought.
“Furthermore,” Wesley added, voice lowering, “we don’t know a damn thing about Rose or her baby. She sees what we do, where we live, but how can we verify a thing she tells us? She could be feeding us a bunch of crap for all we know.”
“What, she’s lying about being a health clinic receptionist?” Garrett made a noise of disbelief. “God, what a traumatizing lie.”
Wesley held up a hand. “I’m not saying she is. But it’s worth it to consider. Let’s not lose our heads here, okay, Gare?”
Wesley had a good point, he couldn’t deny it. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t blowing the situation out of proportion. “Head isn’t lost. As you can see, it’s right here.” He pointed for effect. “I appreciate your concern, but you should know I would never do anything to jeopardize our lives or our business. She pretty, that’s all. So you can calm down.”
Whatever things were beginning to circulate inside of Garrett’s head needed to stop. He didn’t even know the woman, merely experienced an earth-shattering, gut-rumbling attraction to her, something far beyond anything before. The situation was absurd and impossible. The type of thing that only worked out in romance novels and chick flicks.
He’d do well to turn off those thoughts as soon as possible.
Besides, he was a bachelor. A perfectly happy bachelor. Rose was yet another woman with a looming deal breaker he didn’t even need to investigate.
Chapter Seven
Rose’s day had been much more productive than she’d ever imagined possible for being stranded on a mountain.
Not only did she and Garrett complete the laminate flooring for the conference room, they’d also begun fixing patches and painting. Lunch had been well-timed and served to hungry bellies. By the time dinner rolled around, Rose had been able to forget for a majority of the evening she was still as stranded as ever—with no way to communicate with the outside world that she, or her precious cargo, were still alive.
As twenty-four hours no-contact neared, Rose’s anxiety leapt to life once more. If she could escape tomorrow, she might be able to smooth everything over in time. Call the mother, at least, to let her know they were delayed but still en route. But what would a scared mother do when awaiting the arrival of her child, when she’d paid thousands of dollars to a relatively unknown woman to bring her to her alive?
No telling. In all her years of work, she’d never been in a situation like this. Sure, car problems had come and gone; communication issues had caused momentary jolts of panic and bowel flares. But this? Unprecedented. All the worst-case scenarios in one giant shit storm. A whiteout shit storm.
It probably had something to do with the fact she’d started on the summery west coast, where demand always boomed. There was something contagious about summertime and parents making a run for it. People believed nothing could go wrong with their plans as long as the sun shone, whether those plans were a casual picnic, a mountain hike, or a furtive kidnapping of their first-born.
A long string of curse words thundered through her head. She hoped her boss would be running interference by now, though really, he knew as much about the gig as everyone else. She worked as an independent contractor, and her boss helped funnel clients her way, organized the pick-up and drop-off points, and gave her all the information she needed to know. But what she did in between Point A and Point B was her game. It always had been.
What if Emmy’s mother didn’t get hold of him? What if she’d lost his number? What if the boss had figured she’d skipped town? Baby bounty hunters were a strange bunch, and it wasn’t uncommon for one to disappear one day and give up the profession. The list of ways this could end poorly stretched into infinity.
More distraction. Right now.
Emmy had gone down easily around eight thirty, most likely tuckered out by all the “uncle time” after dinner with the various construction workers. They warmed to having a baby around, or maybe they were thankful for the distraction. Since the blizzard, the television had been knocked out as well. They were lucky to have electricity and running water at this point.
Knowing a pool visit later was likely, she opted to forego her shower until later. She’d liked the late-night exercise the night before, and the visit with Garrett had been a welcome addition. It didn’t take any cajoling to admit she wanted the clock to hurry up, so she could be slipping into the pool with him right then.
She was dying to have those arms wrapped around her, hoisting her up, wrapping her own legs around his waist before his very admirable and presumably very hard cock began searching for an entrance…
God, it had been far too long since her last sexual encounter.
Her job made sure most of her interactions were strictly flirtations or one-night stands. There wasn’t room for much else in her life. Not with the work lifestyle. And not with the deadened and dull hope for that elusive partner.
Rose sighed, tucking the blanket around Emmy a bit closer, watching as the child slept. Playing the part of Mommy had been an interesting addition to the gig, for sure, and one that sparked a lot of questions.
What it brought out of her, despite her best intentions to look elsewhere and otherwise avoid it, was that something might be missing from her life.
It wasn’t a baby—God, I don’t know if I’ll be ready for this in a hundred more years—but definitely something. Maybe the gentle caress of a knowing partner, or the continued participation of one person in her life, even though she’d abandoned such hopes. She had some friends—few and scattered, for sure—but something inside her still liked the idea of a romantic partner. Someone to show up to, every day. Someone who could penetrate her loner shield, something she’d worn tight around her since her unsavory childhood. Someone who could take her shit and she could take theirs.
Rose paced the room, both unne
rved and disgusted by the thoughts in her head. She was thirty-four years old and perfectly happy in her life. A former marine living as a baby bounty hunter, she found the rigidity of her daily routine to be ultimately pleasing while the ever-changing nature of her job kept her from getting bored. She liked the freedom, the travel, the goddamn good she did for others.
So if you’re so satisfied, why are you pacing a hotel room about to pull your hair out?
It had to be the stress. The anxiety of nearing twenty-four hours no-contact making her think crazy things and turn to stability-focused ideas like partners and relationships. Things she swore she’d talked herself out of years ago. She had to keep herself focused on the goal, which was getting the hell out of there. Then everything would go back to normal.
Including her thoughts about relationships and love.
Rose decided to wander the hotel. Maybe the workers were up to something, and she could get some laughs and drinks in somewhere. Anything to get her out of her own head.
Grabbing the baby monitor, she slipped quietly out of the room, and laughter arrived from somewhere far away. Following it led her to some sort of rec room she’d never seen before at the other side of the hotel near the conference room she and Garrett had worked on.
Inside, most of the workers were gathered around a card game. Wesley stood off to one side, arms crossed, analyzing the cards of a few players.
“Welcome, little lady.” One of the guys waved her in. “You just walked into the most intense match of Texas Hold’em this side of the Mason-Dixon line.”
She stood behind one of the players, looking at his cards and trying to remember what she’d learned of poker in the military. She wasn’t one for cards—more of a physical prowess sort of gal—and feigned understanding.
Most of the guys had beers in their hands, and those playing wore looks of utmost concentration. She could have wandered in there naked and not one of them playing would have noticed.
She began a subtle scan of the room, looking for Garrett, immediately inclined to leave when she didn’t find him. Are you so hell bent on seeing him? The desire surprised even herself. What’s gotten into you about this guy?
She didn’t know, except for that she wanted to see him and fast.
Rose made her way toward Wesley, thinking he might be able to lead her toward her target innocently enough.
“Is this how they make spending money up here?” She nodded toward the guys.
Wesley nodded, not taking his eyes off the game. “We’ve been at this for a few months now. We know most of the others’ tactics, so the games have been getting really intense recently.” He paused, gasping as one of the guys laid a card. “Shit, he’ll regret that later.”
“Do you play?”
“I started in the beginning, but I’m not so good as these guys. Now I mostly watch and bite my nails.” He still hadn’t looked at her, his hand hovering halfway to his mouth. Most of the other guys were similarly riveted on the card action. Is this what multiple months trapped on a mountain did to men?
She waited a few more moments to see if he would add anything; he didn’t. Not a single guy looked at her when she exited the room.
Rose tried to act casual as she roamed the halls, nonchalantly peeking into every open room, scouring the kitchen as coolly as she could, imagining the reasons she’d give if someone found her in that particular corner of the hotel.
Wandering paid off when she walked into the lobby. Garrett paced the lobby, rotating his shoulder blade in a circle.
Sauntering up to him, she feigned surprise. “What brings you to the lobby this evening, sir?”
He stopped in his tracks, clearly surprised and pleased to see her. “Rose. Hey…wow…you know, I was thinking about you.”
“Oh really?” One point for me.
“Yeah. I was—” He faltered, looking embarrassed. “I wondered if you know how to give a massage.”
Here’s your door, Rose. Now run through it. “As a matter of fact, I do. Do you want a massage, Garrett?”
He looked relieved. “Oh, please, yes. I messed something up today patching the wall. I have an old injury from swimming. It’s never healed right, and today something really jarred it…”
She jerked her head toward the rooms. “Let’s go to your room since Emmy’s sleeping. You’re in luck, pal, I used to give deep-tissue massages in the Marines.”
He stopped walking. “Seriously?”
Rose nodded, confused about why he wasn’t running after her at that knowledge. “Hell, yeah. All those gunnery sergeants had a lot of knots. I learned real fast out there.”
Garrett didn’t look convinced. “You were in the Marines?”
“Yes. Now come on.” She started walking again.
He followed her more slowly this time. “So, you’ve worked in construction, you’re an ex-Marine—”
“Once a Marine, always a Marine,” she corrected.
“Fine. A former still-Marine, and now you work in a medical office, in addition to being a mother…is there something you haven’t done?”
She grimaced as they walked into Garrett’s room. Yeah, I’ve never actually been a mother. She pointed to the bed. “One thing I haven’t done is give you a massage, which is about to change. Get on the bed.”
He laughed, tugging off his shirt before he did so. The air in her throat disappeared again, and she could barely look away as she beheld the arcs of his sculpted back.
Rose had exaggerated only slightly. She’d given a handful of massages during her time in the Marines, and they had been to other women. She wasn’t nearly as professional as she’d sounded to herself, but she’d be damned if she didn’t use this opportunity as a chance to get on top of Garrett.
Furthermore, in those massages she never climbed on top of anyone else, like she was doing currently to Garrett. This was the Extra Special Massage Delight, a service reserved especially for him.
“Are the clenched thighs used as leverage?” He peered up at her. The dimpled grin made her heart skip.
“Absolutely.” She hadn’t realized she’d been clenching but figured it was her body’s natural reaction to having this missile of a God between her thighs.
“Go easy on me.” Garrett turned his face toward the pillow, relaxing further into the bed. “You look like you’d have no problem snapping me in half.”
“Oh, please.” She stretched out her hands, preparing to put them all over his delicious back. Her pulse quickened as she assessed the playground to be hers for possibly the next half hour…full hour if he’d let her. “You flatter my physique. I could only snap half of you in half. So, that would be like, a fourth of you.”
His body shook as he laughed into the pillow. “Whatever, just massage me.”
Her hands hovered over his shoulder blades as she prepared herself for this task. Would she dissolve on top of him in a needy mess of sexual desire? No. Would she calmly and professionally massage his muscles while secretly lodging pleasure? Yes. And she would be very quiet about it.
She started with quick swipes of her fingertips over his skin, a light brushing before they got into the real massage. When her palm finally made contact with his shoulders, the intensity of the warmth surprised her.
She was even more surprised by the way the crotch of her panties experienced a definite surge in moisture.
“You’ve got the touch.” He moaned into the pillow as she worked his shoulders. Rose took a shaky breath, mesmerized by the constellation of freckles on his upper back. God, what a joy to touch him. It might be even better to strip naked and rub all their parts together. Would he object to her flipping him onto his back and riding him for an hour? Is thirty-six hours knowing one another too soon? Who was she kidding? More like exactly the right amount of time.
She massaged him as hard as she could, his firm muscles putting up enough resistance. Following the bumps of his spine, Rose worked her way downward, cataloguing all the intricacies of this new terrain. She loved the
dip in his low back, the way his obliques jutted out from his work jeans. Up, beyond the waist, muscle swelled behind his rib cage. Maybe now would be the time to flip him over, tell him to take those pants off again, and to not mind the obvious friction of genitals.
Silence consumed them as she continued massaging and convincing herself it was a fine idea to follow the massage with instant sex.
Garrett let out a low moan as she returned to his shoulder blade. She spent some time working out all the knots she found there, thinking of all the different ways she could potentially refer to his penis as a knot needing worked out. Maybe she could ease the strain of his groin with a little specially made Rose lube. Oh, good one. Definitely not appropriate for a casual back massage. He alternated between long sighs and gravelly moans; every noise that escaped him coaxed the fire between her legs to a roar.
Had the moisture from her panties stained his backside yet?
Rose worked her way down each arm and up again. By the time she got to his neck, he was a putty mess in her hands. She smiled. Maybe this would make him more acquiescent to her riding his brains out afterward.
She squeezed the sides of his arms and leaned toward his ear. “Okay. Time to flip.”
“Um,” he said after a long, unmoving pause. “I’m not sure.”
Not what she had expected him to say. She tried to conjure any good reason why he wouldn’t want to continue the massage. Nothing came to her.
“If you don’t want anymore, it’s fine.” The titillating reception fantasies of her plans for sex dissolved. Maybe all the sexual tension had been imagined. Maybe she was losing her head over a guy and didn’t realize it. “I can let you rest here, no worries.”
“No, no, it’s—” Garrett sighed deeply into the pillow, moving slightly beneath her. Suddenly, she realized what their position would be if he turned onto his back. Well, it’s what you’ve been hoping for, isn’t it?
He definitely wasn’t into her. He didn’t want to even hint at sexual intercourse. She’d been leading herself on and had driven herself to a frenzied, unrealistic point.