Hot Silver Nights: Silver Fox Romance Collection

by Ainsley Booth

  After some mind-blowing coffee at The Roastery as per Kiefer’s recommendation, they visited Pike Place Market, a marvelous wonderland of food and commerce that reminded Fedora of Liberty Station in San Diego. But what amazed her about Pike Place Market was that it was run by farmers, craftsmen and shop owners. It really was head and shoulders above Liberty Station, but then again, it had a ninety-year head start. By the time they left, she had two shopping bags stuffed with specialty food items—wine, hard sausages, local honey, dried herbs, spices, and pasta she’d scooped out of a big bin. Cole carried it all on the condition that she feed him some of it.

  They returned to the hotel only long enough to drop off the bags.

  “Wait, don’t you want to relax a little?” she asked him.

  He glanced at the bedside clock. “I guess that’s okay, but we’re due at the dock in forty-five minutes.”

  “Like a boat dock?”

  “Yes.” He grinned. “We’re going on a dinner cruise.”

  She couldn’t hold back her squeal of excitement. “I’ve never been on a dinner cruise before. Is it dressy?”

  “No. It’s casual, but it might get chilly.”

  Turned out he had not bought tickets on a big boat with a bunch of other people and a big restaurant-like room. He’d booked a smaller vessel—the Millennium Dolphin—for just the two of them.

  Part of her was nervous about what this might mean because this had romance written all over it, but she told that part of herself to shut up and just enjoy. She was fully capable of keeping the evening light and fun.

  They set sail before sunset. The view of the city from the water was beautiful and it was so relaxing to sit with Cole and share a bottle of wine and some surprisingly tasty appetizers. They marveled at the multimillion-dollar waterfront homes of Lake Washington. They were all different, tastefully gorgeous and every one had a private dock. The captain, whose name just happened to be Jack (no relation to Captain Sparrow of Pirates of the Caribbean fame), pointed out where various celebrities like Bill Gates and the guy who started up Costco lived. Fedora could only wonder what it must be like to live in a home three times as big as her entire apartment building.

  “What do you suppose people do in all those rooms?” she wondered aloud. “Maybe their entourages live with them. It must take an army to keep them clean. I wonder if Bill Gates’ house is in two different zipcodes…”

  “A guy I know, Dustin DeVries, lives around here somewhere,” Cole said. “He plays for the Cascades.”

  “You actually know him? Ooh, can I touch you?” she asked with a laugh.

  He nuzzled her neck and whispered, “You can touch me anytime, anywhere.”

  “Stop it. We’re not completely alone here.” But her body temperature rose a degree or two.

  Captain Jack said, “I heard Howard Schultz, the guy who invented Starbucks, has an entire Starbucks in his house. I don’t know if that’s true or not.”

  “Come on,” said Fedora with a laugh. “That’s crazy.”

  “Rich people are crazy,” Captain Jack said.

  “If you were as rich as Bill Gates or Howard Schultz,” Fedora said to Cole, “what would you have in your mega-mansion? Obviously, I’d have a state of the art kitchen. Maybe more than one.”

  “Besides the obligatory home theatre? How big a piece of property are we talking about? It might be fun to have a private ice rink. Not the outdoor kind, but one that’s an actual building.” He sipped his wine.

  “What about a man cave?”

  “Oh, that’s a given.”

  “What would you have in it?”

  He laughed and rested an ankle on his knee. “Let’s see. First of all, I’d need a big sign—the first thing they see—to proclaim the room as the Man Cave. This would be to get the guys into the right head space.”

  “Oh brother,” she said. “You mean so they can shed all of their manners, their verbal filters and such?”

  “You got it.”

  She chuckled.

  “I’d have the best TV and sound system money can buy, obviously. And a lot of leather recliners with which to enjoy said TV and sound system.”

  “Of course.”

  “And a pool table. A poker table—the kind with the slots for your chips. Every video game known to man. A stripper pole. Just kidding,” he said when she poked him in the side. “A wet bar, again, obviously, with a really big refrigerator for beer.”

  “What about a walk-in? The sky’s the limit…”

  Cole’s eyes went huge. “Excellent idea. A walk-in beer fridge. That’s perfect.”

  “Smart woman,” Captain Jack remarked.

  “That she is,” Cole replied, putting his arm around her. “So, what would you put in your Lady Cave?”

  Fedora almost spat out her wine. Even Captain Jack snickered.

  When Cole realized what he’d said, he cursed. “Shit. Sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

  “No kidding.” She turned to Captain Jack. “One track mind.”

  Jack shrugged.

  “All right.” She turned back to Cole. “Let’s call it a retreat, a Lady Retreat.”

  “Good idea,” he said, his face still a little red.

  “First of all, I would not have a sign. Women are smart enough to realize they’re entering a same sex sanctuary without being told.”

  “Hold on there,” Cole said, straightening.

  “Hey, I call ’em like I see ’em.”

  “Well, I like the same sex sanctuary part,” he mumbled.

  “Of course you do. Moving on,” she said, shaking her head. “I, too, would have a giant TV and comfy seating. Probably not leather though. Probably something soft against the skin. Chenille maybe. And I would compile the ultimate rom-com DVD collection.”

  Cole started making gagging noises, which made her smile.

  “I’d make sure there were fresh flowers all the time. There would be a hot tub—”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  “And massage tables.”

  “Holy shit,” Cole said. “You are a genius.”

  She held up a hand. “No men allowed.”

  “Damn it. Not even me?”

  She cocked her head at him. “Are the Man Cave and Lady Retreat in the same house?”

  He returned her gaze. “Maybe.”

  Choosing to avoid the undercurrents there, she glanced away. “Then you could come in only if you promised to watch a rom-com.”

  “Could I watch it from the hot tub?”

  “Silly question.”

  “Naked?”

  “Sillier question,” she said laughing.

  “Well, that’s the whole point of men seeing rom-coms, you know,” Cole said. “You go so that your woman gets all soft and squishy inside and then you go home and score.”

  “You’re horrible,” she said, slapping him on the chest.

  “It’s the truth.”

  She looked up at Captain Jack who held up a hand and said, “I plead the fifth.”

  Eventually Captain Jack anchored in a secluded cove for dinner. Cole worried that Fedora would find the food substandard, but as advertised, Captain Jack could actually cook. They dined simply but well on grilled fish, veggies sautéed to the perfect degree of doneness, and new potatoes with rosemary. For dessert there was crème brûlée for two that he finished off with a handheld blow torch.

  He and Jack spoke a bit about the charter yacht business after Cole had said he’d definitely post a rave review online about the evening, and Fedora wandered away. As they started back, Cole found her at the bow of the boat. She was leaning on the shiny railing, looking out on the Seattle skyline. The clouds parted long enough for light from the city and the moon to dance on the water. Her hair was down, tendrils of it lifted by the brisk breeze created by their passage. Even though she was dressed warmly in a jacket, beanie, shirt and jeans, she couldn’t have looked more beautiful.

  As he joined her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he
realized he hadn’t felt this content in a long time and he knew it was because of this new intimacy. He still felt idiotic for not having realized what an amazing woman Fedora was before now.

  His thoughts bounced to their joking conversation about Man Caves and Lady Retreats and mused that the idea of living together had a crazy but comforting appeal. He could easily imagine spending all his nights with this woman, laughing, making sexual innuendos, just plain watching her—her facial expressions, the way she moved, even how she slept. Of course, that was a move that couldn’t be made for a while. Hell, the woman was skittish about allowing people to know they were even dating. But as his mother loved to tell him, he wasn’t getting any younger. He’d always thought he would end up married and with children, but Megan had kept putting it off, saying she wasn’t ready, until he eventually figured out she didn’t want them. Then, after the divorce, he had a bad taste in his mouth whenever he even thought about remarrying. He hadn’t even really wanted a serious relationship. Maybe that made him a coward, but he was definitely thinking about it now.

  Back at the hotel room, he made love to her more tenderly. Before, he’d been partly motivated by a need to make her come, to make her realize he actually knew what he was doing. Age had some advantages over youth. And he’d succeeded. He’d loved seeing her sprawled in the bed, completely undone. To him, the best part of sex wasn’t his own orgasm. Shit, that was great but only lasted a few seconds. No, true, more lasting satisfaction came from the knowledge that he’d brought Fedora to the peak, sometimes more than once. Hearing her purr of contentment, drinking in that sweet kiss just before he withdrew from her body—that was the reward.

  To that end, the sex was…different, at least it was for him. Without getting all sickly sentimental, it felt like more than sex, like the act had some hidden meaning behind it that even he didn’t want to examine too closely. Yet. Better to take a page from her book and just taking things as they came. No sense in rushing things.

  But when she was comfortingly ensconced in his arms, her legs entwined with his, like a dummy, he rushed things.

  Chapter 13

  Fedora tried to remember a day that was more awesome than this one and couldn’t. There wasn’t a thing she would change. It had been perfection—from the hustle and bustle of Pike Place Market to the amazing kisses in the moonlight onboard the Millennium Dolphin, and the amazing sex not five minutes ago.

  They’d gotten back to the room and Cole took her in his arms and, letting the door close on its own, kissed her senseless. Light from the city slanted in through the windows as he rid first her, then himself of all their clothes. As before, her body responded to his touch as if it had been weeks, not hours since their last encounter and even though they’d been on the go since just after dawn, he took his time with her and proved once again that he was the most skilled man she’d ever had sex with. After they’d both come, he’d caught her gaze and looked down at her. There was something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read, but made her nervous. She pulled him down for a kiss so she wouldn’t have to face it anymore.

  He’d returned to the bed after cleaning up, and she was lying next to him when he said, “So I had a really great time here with you.”

  “Me too,” she said. “The best. It seemed more like a vacation than a business trip.”

  “Yeah.” He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “And I want to see where this goes after we get back.”

  “See where what goes?” she asked, knowing full well what he meant.

  “Come on, Chevy, don’t play dumb. This is serious.”

  “No it’s not. We agreed it wasn’t going to get serious. We practically pinky swore, remember? In your office, we talked about this.”

  “No, we agreed we go for a trial run and the trial period is over. It’s time to reassess because things have changed.”

  She sighed, partially regretting checking out of her room now. “That’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen, for things to change.” She got out of bed and pulled on a T-shirt and some yoga pants. She was not going to have this conversation naked.

  “Did you really expect things to stay the same after we slept together? Christ. Don’t tell me you really want to go back to being just friends because if you do, I call bullshit.”

  She thought about going back to San Diego to her own apartment. Sure, Kiefer was there to keep her from getting lonely, but did having a great roommate who kept her supplied with lattes really measure up to everything Cole had proven himself to be, here in Seattle? No. Not even close. It had only been three nights and she was already dreading sleeping alone. That either meant she was the neediest loser ever or her subconscious realized they really had something.

  She shook her head. “No. Even if it were possible, I wouldn’t want that.”

  Cole swung his legs out of bed and pulled on his boxer briefs. “Thank God for that. So we’re somewhat on the same page.”

  “I guess so. I just…it’s happening so fast. That’s all.”

  He walked over to her and grasped her upper arms, squeezing gently. “Is that really such a bad thing?”

  She thought about it. “It’s scary.”

  “Agreed,” he said, pulling her into an embrace. “I’ll admit to feeling a little queasy too, but just like flying on that airplane tomorrow…”

  “Oh, don’t remind me.”

  “We’ll get past the scary part. Together.”

  Chapter 14

  “Well, you lost the competition,” Kiefer said upon her return to San Diego, “but at least you got laid.”

  “Oh my God.” Fedora laughed. “Shut up.” She had no idea how he’d deducted that since she hadn’t told him she and Cole had slept together, but there it was.

  Clearing his throat, Kiefer said, “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, notice that she did not deny it.”

  Kiefer followed her as she rolled her suitcase into her room and started unpacking.

  “I won’t ask for details, but rate it on a scale from one to ten.”

  Ten to the millionth power, she thought.

  “I’m not telling.”

  “You don’t have to. The look on your face tells it all. I’m so happy for you. Do you think this will go somewhere? Because from everything you’ve told me over the past year, Cole seems like a great guy.”

  She tossed clothes into her laundry hamper. “I don’t want to jump too far ahead. I’m going to take this one day at a time. I’m still not even quite believing that I broke my cardinal rule of not dating the boss.”

  “That just proves he’s special.”

  “Or that I’m colossally stupid.”

  “Hey, no negative self-talk.”

  “Well, time will tell. We’re just going to see where this leads. It may not lead anywhere.”

  “Or it may lead to a walk down the ai—”

  She held up a warning hand. “Don’t even go there. Read my lips. One day at a time.”

  Kiefer shrugged. “Okay. But you’re happy, right?”

  “I’d say I’m more cautiously optimistic.”

  On the plane, Fedora had insisted that they not carry their personal lives into the workplace. They wouldn’t try to keep the new status a secret, but other than notifying Flynn and Slater, they wouldn’t talk openly about it either.

  “I don’t really see why we have to sneak around,” Cole had said.

  “It’s not sneaking around,” she’d replied. “It’s…it’s like we’re celebrities, see? Everyone knows we’re together, but we’re just trying to live our lives without people poking their noses into our private goings on.”

  “Well, all right. I guess that’s reasonable. But I want to go on record as having objections. I don’t like feeling stifled and that’s what this feels like. Like I’m being personally censored.”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t risk my position at Hat Trick. This is a deal-breaker, Cole.”

  The moment those words left her mouth, she’d felt a stab of fear tha
t he’d call her bluff. It reminded her of the time she’d been babysitting her little cousin and she’d said, “If you don’t stop whining, we’re going home and not seeing the movie.” Except she had really wanted to see the movie. Luckily, her cousin had complied and they’d been able to stay.

  Cole had sighed then and taken her hand. “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do. But if we’re going to be like celebrities, we have to have a celebrity couple name, like Brangelina. How about Fedorole? You see what I did there? I did the gentlemanly thing and gave you top billing.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds like escarole.”

  “What’s escarole?”

  “A leafy vegetable.”

  “We are not leafy vegetables. Okay, let’s try my name first. We could be…Colora. That’s not a vegetable.”

  She shook her head, laughing. “That’s even worse. It sounds like cholera.”

  So he went on trying to combine their names, first and last, into pleasing combinations, with only comical results.

  Cole confessed to Flynn and Slater that he and Fedora were dating as soon as he could gather them both in the same room. He expected them to disapprove or be angry and he tried to prepare some good reasons why he had gone back on his word, but he didn’t have much. It all boiled down to the fact that he couldn’t help himself which was a pretty piss-poor reason for reneging on an agreement with your two best friends.

  It turned out that his anxiety and guilt was all for nothing.

  When he finally told them, Slater hooted and pumped his fist. “Finally.”

  Cole frowned, puzzled at the strange reaction.

  “What do you mean?” Cole asked.

  “You two have been circling around each other for months. It was only a matter of time.” He turned to Flynn. “Pay up, loser.”

  “What the fuck?” Cole said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “You had a wager on it?”

  “Yes,” Flynn said. “I maintained that you would honor our agreement not to get involved with an employee.”

  “While I expected a coup de cock. I’ll take that,” Slater said, snatching the hundred-dollar bill Flynn had extracted from his wallet. “Thank you very much.”