The Last Resort

by Ember Leigh

  No matter how much he wanted it.

  “If I what?” Her voice was soft as she opened the door.

  Emmy whimpered from within. Rose ran toward her daughter and pulled her to her chest, murmuring to the girl. Garrett leaned in the doorframe, watching as she tried to lull Emmy back to sleep. Finally, she put the girl on the bed and smoothed her hair down.

  “She’s fine.” Rose rejoined Garrett at the door. “Must have been dreaming or something.”

  Garrett looked down at the floor, still trying to locate the exact root of the attack of conscience. Part of it came from recent shifts within himself, something he assumed was linked to the aging process. Part of his ascent into real manhood, or something. Whereas the Garrett of five years ago wouldn’t have thought twice about having sex with a mother and never seeing her again, the Garrett of today weighed consequences. Thought about things a bit more. Wondered about prudence versus gratification.

  All in all, he sounded a lot more like Wesley these days. But maybe that was one of the perks of sharing hotels with your brother—adoption of one another’s better qualities. Though from the looks of it, Wesley wasn’t picking up any of Garrett’s physical skills, like knowing how to dive.

  “You shouldn’t be sorry for anything,” Rose said. “Not with those kisses in the mix.”

  Her words seared through him. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to quiet the tumult of confusion inside him.

  “Unless you’re not attracted to women,” she added. “In that case, you would need to apologize for leading me on.”

  He cracked a smile. “That’s definitely not the case. You are…” The breath left his lungs in a small puff as his eyes wandered her towel-clad body once more. He jerked his eyes up to her eyes and bit his lip. “You’re not bad.”

  She looked amused. “Not bad. Like your dive.”

  They smiled at each other a moment longer, and Rose moved to go inside. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Garrett.”

  He waved. “Goodnight.”

  As Rose shut the door and Garrett let himself into his own room, he wondered exactly how the Garrett of the past would have handled things—suggested sex in the shower? Opening up another room in the hotel strictly for sex purposes? The kitchen? He didn’t know. It had been so long since he’d stared a gorgeous woman in the face, he had no idea what Garrett of any phase would have done.

  Especially when faced with a woman like Rose. She threw the rulebook out the window for Garrett, both past and present.

  ****

  Rose’s day began at seven a.m. with extra sit-ups, extra crunches, and the equivalent of a woman boner.

  Goddamn Garrett had more than awakened a perfectly comfortable sleeping beast inside of her, something she absolutely had not wanted to lure out of its cave when the prospects for it going back to sleep seemed so dim.

  Rose was a lone wolf and proud. Despite any recent second-guessing about what she might want out of this life, she was more than content to continue wolfing solo and let the beast rest in its cave. Besides, this character trait meant forgoing things like attraction and legitimate interest in a person and consistent sexual satisfaction.

  Being a lone wolf meant she had to cope with certain things—like cold beds for one, and a certain affinity for her right hand.

  She was perfectly fine with those things. Perfectly fine.

  Except goddamn Garrett being goddamn gorgeous and making her goddamn gravitate toward him with…feelings…that she hadn’t remembered existed for a long time.

  And this baby.

  She climbed to her feet after a particular vigorous round of push-ups and, breathing heavy, checked on Emmy.

  This baby did things to her head too.

  Making her feel like a mother and everything. And think like a mother. She’d even had a dream last night Emmy was breastfeeding. Breastfeeding. Rose shuddered. The lips of a child would never touch her nipples, she’d always thought. But now it showed up in her dreams, and she couldn’t deny she’d woken up in the morning thinking about what it might be like.

  More push-ups were probably the best way to deal with all these things, she decided. So she did that. She absolutely did not think about Garrett’s ramrod-straight cock brushing against her clit last night, sending an actual, honest-to-god shockwave of pleasure rippling through her body that almost choked her.

  Definitely would not think about those things again.

  Besides. She had some getting out of there to do; well overdue for making contact with the outside world, it was today or never. She had a job to do, which apparently she’d forgotten when she decided to make nude swimming a nightly activity with the gorgeous hotel entrepreneur who also happened to have a dimple and a nervousness that made her own knees go weak with gooey sentiments she’d sworn she’d never experience in her life.

  Aargh. Stop it. She pushed harder, tacking on ten more for good measure since she’d started the day so scattered. Her arms quivered as she got to her feet, loving the burn and the fierce start to the day. This would help her keep her mind on the game—and get the hell out of there.

  The clock read eight a.m., and she figured she’d throw on the same jeans and T-shirt as yesterday and forgo her shower until midafternoon, after she and Garrett sweated in whatever morning activity he had planned for them.

  Which will definitely not be sex. It will be a work activity, which you have offered to help with, because you’ve gotten free room and board here from very generous, regular, non-attractive men who are kind and normal. Regular men. Not at all tall, or sculpted, with eyes your favorite shade of green, and a humor that makes you genuinely laugh for the first time in a decade.

  Right. She tossed on the T-shirt, sidled into her skinny jeans, and spent a little bit too much time tousling her hair in the mirror.

  Emmy began to rouse. Rose took a seat next to the girl on the bed, hopeful to glimpse the hilarious waking-up face she’d caught the day before.

  Kids were something she’d always known wouldn’t be a part of her personal life. She couldn’t say why, but she’d never had the urge to squeeze something so large out of the extremely small space between her legs. But there was a definite upside to having one around all the time.

  A certain appreciation for simple existence. Babies made you look around with new eyes, and transmitting that wonder of life to a new creature was pretty fantastic. Even in their few days together as mother and child, Emmy had made her realize the absurdity of certain things—like spoons, and how unlikely, in the grand scheme of things, it really was that they could make it to your mouth—and the beauty of others like certain people making movements, or sparkly things.

  Life was enormous and fascinating and totally crazy. Kids got that. They were lucky, at the very least, to see everything with wide-open eyes.

  Until someone came along to harden the vision, to turn those baby eyes into a cynical fortress. Rose gulped. Never in her post-therapy years had she thought so much about where she’d come from, and why she was the way she was.

  Her own protection demanded she live that way. Eyes open at all times, for sure—but with knives ready, trusting no one. Emmy, and the brothers too, had been the first time in recent history she’d even let her guard down. Despite the small nest of lies she’d created in order to not arouse suspicion.

  “Did you sleep good, baby?” She patted Emmy’s back as she blinked herself into consciousness. Soon, Emmy was all smiles and gurgles.

  “Yep!”

  Rose gasped, and then realized it was her standard repertoire of responses. But it had almost been a dialogue—and how amazing. What if Emmy could begin to say more?

  “It’s time for breakfast, little one.” Rose propped Emmy to standing, playing with her a bit before scooping her into her arms and heading out of the room.

  As soon as her door had opened, she saw Garrett staring back at her, eyes wide and fist raised in mid-knock.

  “Good morning.” Rose used Emmy’s small hand to wave at Garret
t.

  “Hey there, Emmy.” Garrett took her hand in his huge paw and smiled wide. “I was coming to wake you two up.”

  “Done and done.” Rose slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her. “Don’t you know I wake up at seven?”

  Garrett looked surprised. “Seriously? You do it willingly?”

  “Every day, without fail.” She smiled up at his still-confused face. He obviously wasn’t a natural morning person. She loved his expressions, how he wore every emotion on his sleeve and very likely didn’t even realize it.

  “Why? Do you meditate or something?”

  “Something like that.” She grinned as they meandered toward the kitchen area. He grew nearer, could sense his heat rippling up her arm. “I exercise.”

  “I knew you had to do something to keep up this body,” he said. “What’s your secret? How many squats do you do?”

  “A million.” She loved his fake gasp. “Actually, one hundred. But it’s only one small part of the puzzle.”

  The other part of the puzzle, what she’d failed to mention to him at all during her stay there, was that she practiced Brazilian jujitsu. Multiple days off from any outlet in this sense had made her skittish. And incredibly disposed to putting someone in a chokehold.

  “What do the rest of the puzzle pieces look like?” He lifted a brow. “I’m curious to know.”

  “They look like ‘you’ll find out later.’” She lifted a brow back at him. “Listen, what’s the weather like? Am I getting out of here anytime soon, or is this another day in paradise for us?”

  Garrett looked at her severely and then sighed. “You won’t believe it but…it’s still a whiteout.”

  Chapter Nine

  Thirty-six hours in this woman’s presence and Garrett was freaking enchanted. Enchanted. Like a little Disney princess.

  Whatever. No use trying to understand it. Maybe this whiteout had something to do with it, but he was falling in love with Rose Whateverherlastnamewas and he couldn’t help it.

  Or he was going insane.

  They’d spent the whole morning measuring drywall for a drafty and exposed back hallway. Rose had rigged an extra-safe playpen and wrapped the babe in extra clothes, far away from the drafts but still close enough to keep an eye on as they worked.

  Emmy conveniently got her morning poo out of the way right after breakfast, and Rose had made some mention about potty-training Garrett’s brain refused to comprehend. He smiled and gazed into her icy-blue eyes, grateful for the chance to do so.

  Yep. You’ve gone fucking nuts. If you say yes to this woman, you’re saying good-bye to your career.

  The thought jarred a cold fear into him. Did Rose have the power to derail a career he’d spent his whole adulthood building? Could Garrett actually fall for someone like that, to where he’d be signing blank checks and watching as she dismantled the existing structure of his entire life?

  He didn’t know these things, but the fear burbled hot in him, made him want to march away and vow to never look into those icy blue eyes again. He was done with women trying to take away what he wanted, trying to restructure his life to look more like what they wanted him to be. The ship had not only sailed, it had been completely reverse-engineered and sent into outer space.

  The truth was he didn’t even know Rose. She could be a criminal—someone who passed their time posing as mothers or sapping the money out of unsuspecting saviors’ bank accounts while holed up in Pennsylvanian mountains. Maybe all those attempts to “call someone” from the front of the hotel were really secret signals regarding his bank account via a super-strong satellite phone years ahead of typical capability.

  One could never be too sure. Wesley sure thought Rose had something sinister up her sleeve, despite the way Garrett reminded him her sleeves were perfectly docile.

  But, oh, Rose. One look at those icy-blue eyes and one flick of her sharp tongue and he was goddamn putty in her hands.

  Siphoning money from his bank account or not, he had a serious case of lustwantlovecrazy. Or something.

  She seemed amped up this morning, and he wasn’t sure why, though he suspected the isolated nature of the hotel and the winter storm had a lot to do with it. Typical of what most people went through when holed up on any of their long-term projects. Their crew was doing a good job so far handling the isolation and extreme weather. This gig was, by far, the most trying location they’d ever encountered. Or, as Wesley would put it, the location Garrett had “forced them into.”

  He climbed onto a stepladder to measure the upper corner of the far wall. Rose held the measuring tape from ground level as he did so, looking toward Emmy at the end of the hallway.

  “She still doing okay?” He made a quick note of the measurements in his head before he began his descent.

  “Tip top,” she said.

  As he lowered, he brushed up against her, noting her head was at the perfect level for feigning a headlock. When she wasn’t looking, he draped an arm around her shoulder, then curled it back toward him.

  He laughed, expecting a pleased gasp.

  Instead, something sharp and hard connected with his forearm, and suddenly she was out of his headlock, looking at him with fiery eyes.

  “Dang,” he said. “I was kidding around.”

  “I don’t mess around with headlocks,” she said, a trace of a grin on her face. “I could have had you in a chokehold in two seconds, but I didn’t want to kill you on the ladder.”

  He stepped on the ground, narrowing his eyes as he processed the information. “Are you serious?”

  “Hell yeah, I am.” She rolled back the sleeves of her shirt a bit more, looking like a boxer preparing for a fight. “You want me to show you?”

  Garrett didn’t know the first thing about any skilled martial arts or otherwise. His first inclination told him he’d be able to overpower Rose no matter what, but he had second thoughts now.

  “Show me.” He tossed the measuring tape to the side.

  “This a free for all, or do you want me to show you the move?”

  Instead of answering, Garrett darted at her to attack—well, as close as he’d get to ever attacking her—mostly feigning but wanting to initiate something.

  Rose’s response was an actual blur to his eyes—something happened and then her elbow pinched his throat and he fell to his knees, wedged between her thighs with something knifing into his chest, and he had no idea how he’d gotten there.

  “Okay, okay, okay.” He held up his hands, noting a significant lack of oxygen to his head. “Uncle.”

  She relaxed, smiling down at him like maybe that sort of thing got her off.

  He stood up, rubbing his neck as he eyed her. “So, what are you? Regale me with the newest revelation, please.”

  Rose laughed, a bit of color finding her cheeks. “I practice jujitsu.”

  Garrett nodded. “Uh-huh. What else? And you invented it and are the director of thirty-five schools nationwide and received all the medals for jujitsu ever?”

  “Only some of it is right.”

  His eyes widened. “Are you for real? Because—”

  “No, you dummy. But I’m happy to hear you hold me in such high esteem. I practice—it’s something I picked up when I was young, and it stuck. Though it’s extremely helpful self-defense for a woman.”

  “And helpful regular defense for a guy. As in, if we’re out somewhere and I get attacked, you are totally saving me.”

  She laughed. “I think you’d do fine on your own. I’d help if I had to, of course, but the reason I got you now is because you didn’t know what to expect.”

  “I also wanted you to put your hands all over me,” he said.

  The color deepened and spread across her cheeks. She turned away, reaching for the measuring tape he’d discarded.

  “It’s true,” he added when she hadn’t responded.

  “You don’t need to get me into fighting mode for me to put my hands all over you,” she said finally. “I’d do t
hat gladly anytime.”

  Rose discarded the tape measurer she’d picked up and came up to him, sliding her arms around his neck.

  “That’s more like it,” he said. “No more of this ninja chokehold stuff. Can’t you see? I’m sensitive. I need gentle caresses.”

  After a moment, he added, “Well, I mean, not that sensitive, of course.” He puffed his chest and squinted into the distance. “I can totally lift weights and fight with my friends in the street.”

  Rose laughed and nudged his chin with her nose. He smoothed his hands over the dip in her waist and down to her ass. He inhaled sharply, yanking her body against him, knowing this sudden tête à tête couldn’t lead to anything PG-rated.

  Her nearness stirred the same heat inside him, something between a forest fire and a cozy evening at the fire pit, sometimes one side more than the other, but always with crackling flames threatening to completely devour him if given the chance.

  Rose pulled his face into hers, and they kissed so hard his lips went numb. When they broke, he pressed for more, this time a gentle, passionate kiss unfolding like they’d been together for years.

  He hooked his fingers through the loops of her skinny jeans, knocking her hips against his body. His cock pulsed beneath his jeans, body tensing from the electricity of her nearness.

  Voices appeared at the far end of the hallway, no doubt Wesley or some other worker checking in. Garrett grunted and kissed her again, then stepped away with a long sigh.

  “You are dangerous, woman.” He nodded toward the tell-tale bulge in his pants. She looked pleased with herself.

  “I’m doing my job.” She picked up the tape measurer, tossing it between her hands. “Just measuring some drywall.”

  The voices grew louder, and Garrett pinched his eyes shut, concentrating on things not involving Rose’s tight body against his chest, or the heat of her mouth sending fragrant spasms through his body. He needed to think about anything other than those delicious details, tidbits driving him toward a slow yet sure insanity. Snowstorms. Hammers. Pine trees outside. Pinning Rose to the bedroom wall. The baby pooping. Hoisting Rose against the wall, inching my fingers between her legs.