Seducing the Runaway Bride (The Wrights Book 1)

by McKenna Rogue

  The door opened, and instead of some old grandmother with knitting needles and reading glasses she’d lost on the top of her head, a gorgeous blonde with soft green eyes answered. She was decked out in a pair of flannel pajamas that were far too baggy. Her socks were thick and bunched around her ankles. For extra warmth, no doubt.

  I held up my toolbox. “I’m here for the hot tub?”

  “Yes, right this way.” She pulled the door open wider, and I smirked at the fact that I might have misread the age, as she was in her pajamas at just after noon.

  I walked past her into the bane of my existence and made a beeline for the back porch. I knew every inch of this chalet; the last thing I needed was a guest showing me around. “So, Mrs. Simmons, where’s the mister today?”

  She leaned on the doorframe as I set my toolbox down. “Your boss didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me?”

  She let out a breath. “Nothing. Mr. Simmons is not here.”

  Something about the voice made me turn around again, and with a snap, I realized. “You’re the woman from the black diamond.”

  Mrs. Simmons crossed her arms and frowned at me. “Oh, god. You’re the snowboarder. Chuck, right?”

  “You remember me.” I grinned and bent to grab a wrench from my toolbox. “Are you going to tell me your first name, now that we’ve had two chance encounters? Or is meeting three where the magic happens?”

  “I guarantee there will be no magic between the two of us.” Her tone was more mortified than stern.

  I raised my eyebrow at her. “Well, if you don’t mind, Mrs. Simmons, I’ll just get to work.” She seemed a little bent out of shape to be on her honeymoon.

  She gave me an awkward nod and went back inside, leaving me to the hot tub.

  None of the easy fixes seemed to be wrong with the jacuzzi, so eventually I popped open the maintenance panel on the side of the tub and got down on the wood of the deck to take a look.

  I pulled my fleece jacket off to use as padding and then lowered onto my side to look inside the jacuzzi. Using the flashlight I keep in my toolbox, I shone light over the valves and pipes that brought water to the tub and heated the unit. A thin layer of ice coated some of the pipes. “Shit.”

  I stood and went back inside. “Hey, there should be a tea kettle in one of the cabinets. Could you fill it up and get it heating on the stove?”

  Mrs. Simmons peeked over the cover of her book, one of those romance novels where the man’s shirt is half-open and the woman’s leaning into him like she’s just about to come. “What’s wrong?”

  “Pipe froze. I’m hoping to add a little heat to get the water flowing right again, assuming the pipes aren’t compromised.” I nodded at the book. “Your Mr. Simmons look at you like that guy?” Why was I needling her about this?

  She slammed the novel shut and dropped it on her lap. “Can you stop bringing him up? He’s not here. He’s not coming. It’s just me, okay?”

  I held my hands up. “Okay. I’m sorry.” I walked into the house and pulled the kettle out of the cabinet. “For what it’s worth, he’s a dick, leaving a woman like you alone.”

  “A woman like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I smirked as I filled the tea kettle. “Well, Mrs. Simmons, you’re clearly an independent woman who needs no man. Except when it comes to getting on the right runs on the slopes. And when it comes to stopping.”

  “Ha ha. Very funny. Yes, I made a mistake this morning. Clearly. But you don’t have to keep bringing it up. And there are plenty of experienced women skiers I could’ve gotten help from.”

  “Fair point. I might stop if I had a first name for you, Mrs. Simmons.”

  She sighed. “If I tell you, will you stop calling me Mrs. Simmons? You’re just reminding me I’m here alone.”

  “I make no promises.” I turned off the tap and set the pot on the gas stove. “But I would like to know your name.” I didn’t know her from any other women. But there was something about her. And it was killing me not to even know her first name.

  She pursed her lips, like she was considering denying me again, but then she said softly, “It’s Aubrey.”

  “Nice to meet you, Aubrey.” I gestured to the kettle. “When this whistles, will you holler at me, or bring it out? I’m going to see if I can melt it any other way first. I’m worried the shock of heat on the completely frozen pipe will make it burst, and then we’ll have a real mess on our hands.”

  She moved her book to the couch and stood. “Do you need towels or anything?”

  “I’ve got some rags in my toolbox. But if it gets really bad, I might ask you to grab some. Thanks.” I was surprised by this seeming change of attitude. “Did Luke offer you dinner or anything for this trouble? I’m sure we could arrange something.”

  “Just like I told Mr. Branson, that’s unnecessary. I understand that sometimes things just go wrong.” Her eyes held a sadness that suggested there was much more to that comment than she was letting on, and I wondered if she was supposed to be Mrs. Simmons, but the wedding didn’t happen. I couldn’t imagine anyone letting this gorgeous woman slip through their fingers if they’d gotten so close that they were going to be married. But looks weren’t everything. Maybe Aubrey was a nightmare. Though, I was willing to bet, a woman alone on her honeymoon, she wasn’t the problem.

  “Well, if you change your mind, there’s a great Mexican place not far from here. I know what you’re thinking—who goes to Aspen for great Mexican food? But it’s a local favorite. Not nearly as showy as the highbrow stuff that all the tourists favor.”

  “I promise, I’m fine.” She sat on the couch again and wrapped up in the blanket my sister Rachel knitted. It was a talent that confused the hell out of me, but she made quality items, and I had a Rachel afghan in each of my properties. This one, though, was my favorite.

  “I’ll leave you to your novel, then. If you need anything at all while I’m here, just let me know.” The woman had a wall up that could be seen from orbit. The hot tub was giving me enough trouble, I didn’t need to go looking for more.

  “I just need the hot tub fixed.” With her tone of voice, I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if she’d added, “This isn’t some pornography.” But she didn’t, and I headed back outside to try to warm up the pipes on the hot tub and cool off the one in my jeans.

  8

  Aubrey

  Watching the maintenance man head back out to the hot tub, I could practically hear Caroline’s advice echoing in my head. And I had to admit, the man was built, his white t-shirt straining against his chest. The way his biceps flexed as he filled the tea kettle drew way more of a reaction than the predictable romance novel in my lap. I wasn’t even concerned with having my page marked; watching Chuck move around on the deck was way more enticing than the book could’ve been.

  Opening the door and finding him on the doorstep was nearly a shock to my system. His bright, blue eyes were the first thing to catch my eye. From there it was a toss-up between the carved jaw and matching chest and arms. The white t-shirt looked painted on. His jeans were tight in all the right places, but not skinny jeans. They were bootcut over his workman boots. He was like a handyman fantasy come to life. He grinned and another wire in my brain seemed to short circuit.

  But to find out he was the one who so graciously helped me down the mountain. Ugh! I’d never wanted to see that guy again. My life the past few days seemed to be nothing but a round of bad luck and embarrassing circumstances. When would it end?

  And none of it changed the fact that I should’ve been married just a couple days ago. The last thing I needed was to jump into bed with a stranger. Even if Caroline would be proud. While the man was completely enticing, I severely doubted he wanted to hook up with some jilted bride, another man’s cast off. Plus, I wasn’t interested at all. The man was definitely hot, but he was far too cocky.

  Frustrated, I got up and headed to the kitchen, thinking some water might help cool me off.

/>   The vantage of the kitchen just gave me a better view of the way his jeans hugged his ass as he lay on his side, half under the hot tub. It had been weeks since Greg and I had had sex. I was sure that was the only reason he was having this effect on me. Greg certainly wasn’t a slouch, but he wasn’t built like Chuck was. His dark, almost black, brown eyes were calculating, measured, and never filled with the laughter and joy that seemed to be a permanent fixture in Chuck’s.

  “Aubrey,” Chuck’s deep voice filtered in from outside, “it looks like we’re going to need that kettle.”

  I blinked and turned away from the deck just as the teapot started to whistle.

  Carefully, I carried the hot water outside, and coughed slightly to not scare him. “Here you go.”

  He slid out from under the tub, and grinned. “Thanks, Aubrey.” He said my name like it was a pleasure to say it, to know it. “I know it’s not your job, but is there any chance I could get you to grab a couple handfuls of snow? They’ll make a good enough hot pad out here.”

  I nodded and handed him the kettle before I gathered up some snow into my hands from the deck railing. When I was younger, I might’ve considered forming it into a snowball and lobbing it at him. Instead, I set it down next to him, and squatted, trying to look at what was going on under the tub. “Anything else I can do to help?”

  “Just stay back. This is going to steam like crazy. If we’re lucky, that’s the only water that’ll be coming out of these pipes.”

  “I’ll just be inside then.” I headed back to the couch, but I didn’t bother picking up my book. There was no way I could pay attention to the words on the page with him out there. I wanted to know something more about him. He was a maintenance man. What else did he do? Was he good with his hands in other areas?

  Oh, dear lord, what had possessed me?

  A moment later, I heard what sounded like way more than just steam, followed by a very loud, “Fuck!”

  I bounced to my feet unsure of what to do. “Everything okay?”

  Chuck ran past me, the white t-shirt now almost see-through and plastered to his pectorals. He stopped at the stairs. “Which room are you staying in?”

  All I could do was stare at him. The transparent shirt clung to every curve and slope of the man’s chest. It highlighted all the places I could run my fingers over, lick along, and press my breasts to.

  “Aubrey?”

  I blinked and cleared my throat. “The master.” My voice cracked. God, what was I, in high school again?

  “Great.” He bounded up the stairs two at a time and came back a moment later with the bedspread from the second bedroom.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have to try to soak up some of the water before it freezes down the side of the house and causes a shit ton more damage.” He shoved the comforter into the maintenance panel, and then twisted some valves.

  “Do you need me to call Mr. Branson?”

  “I can handle it. Plus, the other maintenance guy is sick with the flu.” He pulled off his t-shirt, exposing even more of his bare chest. I’m glad he was too distracted to notice me gawking at him like I’d never seen a shirtless man. But I hadn’t, certainly not one like him. Every move he made, I watched the muscles ripple and bulge. It was hypnotic.

  “Is Mr. Branson above getting his hands dirty? He should be willing to do what his employees do.”

  “First of all, Ms. Not-Simmons, Luke is not my boss. And second of all, he’s the numbers guy. You don’t want him helping me, trust me.” He bent over and grabbed something out of his toolbox. “I probably should’ve said something earlier, but I really just wanted to fix your tub and get back to my day off.”

  He handed me a business card, and I flipped it over to see the logo of the rental agency, CWLB Luxury Rentals, embossed across the top. Then, just below that, was the name, “Chuck Wright, Property Manager and CEO”.

  I took a shaky breath, and then slowly looked up to meet his eyes. “You’re the owner.”

  “Luke and I share the business, but yeah.”

  How could I be so stupid? “I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

  “Yeah, you did. You assumed, and I didn’t correct you.” He wrung his shirt out over the side of the deck and ran his hand through his now soaked hair. “I’m going to get a clean shirt and another jacket from my car. I’ll come back in and see if I can do anything else to get this figured out, but I think this tub is shot.”

  I swallowed hard, trying not to stare at his chest or admire the way his dark hair fell over his forehead in a boyish way. “That’s okay. I don’t need it.” I licked my lips, and then mentally slapped myself for the action. What was wrong with me?

  “Still, it’s a feature you’re paying for as a customer of our properties. I’d like to make it up to you somehow.”

  “Seriously, I’ve got the giant bathtub. And I heard there’s some hot springs not far from here. I’m sure I can figure something out if I want a hot soak.” With the way I was reacting to him standing in the living room, shirtless, I felt like the best thing would be to just get him out of the chalet and get on with my evening. Maybe starting with a cold shower. Even standing outside in the cold mountain air, I was still hot and bothered.

  “Okay, if you’re sure.” I could be wrong, but he almost looked disappointed at the dismissal.

  “Really, it’s not a big deal. I just thought the hot tub would be a nice way to spend the day. Maybe relax some sore muscles.” I sighed. “If it’s really that important to you, you can give it one more look-over.”

  He smiled and nodded. “You got it, Aubrey.”

  9

  Chuck

  Why didn’t I just want to leave? The tub was shot. I knew it. Aubrey knew it. I could’ve gotten into my Jeep, called Luke to order a new jacuzzi, and forgotten all about the woman with the sad, green eyes, wrapped in my sister’s hand-knit blanket.

  Instead, I grabbed the duffle bag I keep in my Jeep for emergencies and headed back into the house. The snow was falling more heavily, piling up on both the cars in the driveway. Frowning, I tried to remember if I’d had time to stock up the chalet with winter rations.

  I set the duffle bag in the entryway and pulled out a fresh t-shirt before walking into the kitchen. I should’ve been cold from being wet and outside, but I felt too warm. Aubrey was back on the couch with her book open, but her eyes weren’t looking at the page in front of her. She was watching me as I moved around the kitchen. Rather than put on my shirt, I laid it across the end of the island and moved to the cabinets, checking for the supplies Luke and I decided would be the most acceptable inclement weather rations.

  The cabinets were well-stocked with dishes, utensils, everything you’d need to cook high quality meals, but no actual food.

  “Hey, it looks like we didn’t get your cabinets stocked with anything in case the weather turns and you can’t get out for a couple days. I’m going to run to the store.”

  “Oh, um, okay. I could go, it’s not a big deal. I drive in the snow in New York, I think I can handle a few flakes.” Was I imagining it, or was Aubrey’s voice a little huskier now?

  I reached over and picked up my shirt, watching her from the corner of my eye as I pulled it on over my head. She was definitely watching me. She certainly wasn’t acting like a happily married woman. “I don’t mind. It’s a service we provide.” I smiled and moved around the island toward her. “I could bring back a few things, cook you a nice dinner, since you’ve been put out.”

  “The hot tub really isn’t a big deal.” She glanced around the room until her eyes landed back on me. “But I-I don’t have dinner plans. Though, I feel like I should be doing something for you. You came out here on your day off and got all…wet.” She licked her lips.

  I grinned. She wasn’t disappointed I got all wet and now I was wondering if I could get her wet. “Not necessary. I’m happy to whip us up something. Any allergies or preferences I should be aware of?”

  “Yeah, I’
m vegan, gluten-free, and allergic to soy. Will that be a problem?” She tilted her head at me.

  “Um…” I tried to think of something other than just vegetables that would fit the bill.

  “I’m kidding, Chuck. I’ll eat anything.” She winked at me and stood. “Do you want me to go with you? I could help shop.”

  “This is your vacation. You came to Aspen to get away from the everyday tasks like grocery shopping. I’ve got this.” As much as I wanted to see her in something more form-fitting than a ski suit or pajamas, I didn’t want to keep being an imposition to her.

  “Okay.” She sat back down on the couch. “I guess I’ll stay here then.” She picked up her book and waved it.

  I almost caught a hint of disappointment in her tone, but that didn’t make any sense. She seemed so ready to get rid of me just a few minutes ago.

  “It shouldn’t take me more than a half hour or so. Do you want me to pick you up another novel? You seem bored with that one.” I shouldn’t be teasing her. I shouldn’t be making her dinner. If Luke offered, he probably was just going to have something sent over. That’s what you did for your patrons. You made sure they had what they needed; you didn’t offer to cook for them just because you wanted to spend more time with them.

  “No, I definitely want to see where this one is going.” She held her book to her chest, the cover pressed between her breasts, and for the first time, I felt a little jealous of a romance novel.

  I left her alone in the chalet and quickly cleaned off my Jeep before getting behind the wheel. The snow was piling up, and I wanted to make the trip as quick as possible.

  On my way to the store, my phone rang, and I answered without looking to see who was calling. “Hello?”

  “Chuck, honey, you’re not on the mountain, are you?”