Sweet Home Alaska

by Rebecca Thomas

  Trey stared at the curve of her calf, then at her bright pink toenail polish, before making eye contact with her. Her bare feet made their meeting feel too casual. Was there something more going on here? He had to be misreading the signals. “Ah yeah, you’d be right.”

  “Can we watch them?” she asked.

  “Um, yeah, sure.” He wanted nothing to do with movies right now. He’d rather move his hands up her ankles, then her calves, then under her skirt, but this was business. A woman could take off her shoes, but it didn’t mean they were going to jump into bed. His fingers twitched. Instead of reaching where he wanted, he pulled his glasses from his front pocket. “Let’s look at the menu choices. Everything you’ve given me to eat has been fantastic.”

  “But I just refilled your plate. You need to try some more.” Rain pelted against the windows in a rhythmic beat. Milliseconds ticked by before Lauren said, “Or, not.”

  Was she interested in more than a business relationship between them? He’d been working so many months straight he’d given dating little thought. Except, now that Lauren was stretched out of the floor next to him, he suddenly could think of little else.

  “Love the glasses,” she said and licked her bottom lip.

  He stared at her, wanting her to say more about things she loved. About him.

  “And your blue eyes, too,” she said dreamily. Then, abruptly, “Sorry, I’ve had too much wine. I shouldn’t have said that. It just slipped out. But seriously, you are so hot.” She held her fingers to her lips, as though silencing herself.

  “It’s okay.” His body tensed. He wanted to know where things stood between them, and whether he was completely off-base. The only way to know for sure was to ask. He straightened his glasses and sat up. “Are we keeping our relationship strictly professional, or are we—I don’t want to misread anything. I must be getting the signals wrong.”

  She pulled her knees up under her, smoothed out her skirt, and scooted closer to him. “No, you aren’t.” She shook her head and bit down on that plump bottom lip. “You aren’t getting the signals wrong.”

  The rain hit the windows with more force. The sound of the wind cracked. He wanted to slide open the deck’s glass doors and step outside to cool off, clear his mind. “So you’re saying you want more than a business arrangement between us?”

  She slowly nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  He waited for a couple quiet moments before he couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled her to him and kissed her.

  Every nerve ending in his body seemed to catch on fire. His fingers ached to touch more of her. She opened her mouth and kissed him with a ferocity he wasn’t prepared for. Then again, he wasn’t prepared for any of this. Lauren wouldn’t stay in town; no matter what she said, he didn’t believe she’d stay. So what were they doing?

  A faint moan erupted from her throat. He kissed along her neck and collarbone. Heat erupted from her silky skin.

  She arched her back and he slipped his hand beneath her and pulled her even closer. The floor wasn’t the most comfortable, but he didn’t care. Her hands stroked his temples and she hungrily kissed him back.

  He tried to think about the impossibility of this, but he’d completely lost all focus. He couldn’t fight Lauren or his own desire for her. He whispered in her ear, “I want you, Lauren, I want you in the worst way.”

  She wrapped both arms around his neck and hiked her leg over his. She sat on his lap, facing him. Her skirt inched up past her knees, past mid-thigh. “Good, then we’re in agreement, because I want you, too. Did you say some of these rooms are furnished?”

  Trey sucked in a breath. He devoured the exquisite sight of her and traced his hands up and down her thighs. “Yes. The first and second floors are done.”

  “I don’t know if I can wait. It’s a long way to the other floors, and then you’d have to find a key, right?” She unbuttoned the first button on his shirt, then the next.

  She was breathing in shallow pants. Her chest rose and fell.

  He ran his hands up her thighs and cupped her bottom. “Yeah, right.”

  “Do we have time for that?” She rose up on her knees, effectively pressing her breasts against his chest. God, she was perfect. His body was begging for her.

  But somewhere in the far away corners of his brain he started to panic. He started to remember exactly who he had in his arms. “Maybe we should slow down and talk about this?”

  She arched her back and threaded her fingers through his hair before she stared into his eyes. “You’re right. We should slow down.”

  “I didn’t say we had to slow down—just maybe. Or we can go any speed you want.” He was still grappling with the fact that this was happening at all. He needed to shut up and let things happen.

  Lauren climbed off his lap.

  He immediately missed the heat of her body bonded with his.

  “I suppose we need to talk about this, shouldn’t we? We were talking about menu options and then, and then. . . we weren’t.” She fiddled with her hair, trying to re-pin the strands that had fallen loose.

  “We were talking about menus, but I’d be happy to feast on you instead.” He spoke before he realized how stupid that must sound.

  Lauren laughed and he didn’t feel quite so dumb anymore. “So you like my food then? That’s great,” she said. “But do you like me?”

  “You’re perfect,” he blurted. “I more than like you.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Or something like that. I’m far from perfect. . . but I like you, too, Trey.” She bit down on her lip again. “I always have.”

  Her body language, her hair, her voice. . . everything about her called to him and that’s why he needed to keep questioning this. He didn’t believe it was real. He couldn’t remember the last time any woman looked more enticing. Heck, there was no last time—this had never happened to him before. “You’ve had about three, maybe four, glasses of wine. How about I take you home and we can talk about this some more? Where we want things to go between us, or if there even is an us? How does that sound?”

  She got up on her knees and inched closer to him. “If you want to take me home, then I’m all for it.” Her eyes brightened. “In fact, then you can try some of my salsa, but as far as how things go between us. . .” She absently pointed a finger in the air. “Do I get a vote?”

  “Yes, you get to vote.” How much had she had to drink?

  “My vote is—make no mistake about it—I want you in my bed.”

  Trey had been so reluctant to hire Lauren, but never in his craziest dreams had he played this scene out to end like this. He mentally picked his jaw up off the floor. Clearly, she was a lightweight in the liquor department. He’d drive her home and make sure she was completely sober before they took this any farther. Then, if she still wanted him in her bed, there was no doubt about his vote. He was all for democracy.

  Chapter Eight

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Lauren said over her shoulder. She walked up the stairs to her apartment above the bakery.

  “I don’t think you do,” he said from behind her.

  “You think I’ve had too much to drink.” She stopped on the landing and at her door.

  “No, actually I was thinking what gorgeous legs you have.” The guy sounded completely serious.

  “You are. . . so hot, you know that?” She glanced at Trey before taking her keys out of her purse.

  “So you’ve said.” He stepped behind her on the top landing, snaked his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. “And with your hair up like this, I can’t resist kissing you.”

  She pushed open the door and threw her purse on the living room sofa. Then she quickly put herself back in his embrace and kissed him, threading her fingers through his short hair. He didn’t move his hands anywhere other than her waist, but continued the kiss she had started.

  His thumb brushed over her jawline, and she ga
sped at the endearing, yet sensual, sensation. Every inch of her skin was ready for his touch. When he trailed his fingers and thumbs down her neck, she trembled in his arms, and a hot aching need erupted low in her belly. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. She wanted them to be skin to skin, without any clothing in the way.

  Trey broke their kiss and took a step back. She instantly missed clinging to his body as though he was her life preserver in the stormy sea of her emotions. She wanted this to be purely sexual, to be a fling, but she knew her feelings for him were more than physical. She didn’t want to screw this up. She’d let her grandma down; she couldn’t let Trey down, too.

  “I thought we were going to talk?” His voice sounded husky.

  “You already know my vote.” She waited for some sign from him, some reason to throw her body at him the way she wanted to. “Unless we’re really here to taste my salsa.”

  “I want to taste a whole lot more than your salsa,” he said with a perfectly straight face.

  She busted up in a fit of laughter. “Only you, Trey Briggs, can say that with a serious face.” She bridged the distance between them and tugged his glasses from his shirt’s front pocket. “I want you to put your sexy glasses on and say that again. In fact, I want you to be wearing nothing but these glasses when you say it.”

  A small grin creased his face. “I want us to be on the same page, Lauren. And I want to make sure it isn’t the alcohol speaking.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her chest against him. “My wine wore off a while ago. I want you, Trey. I want this. Do you?”

  As if he had all the time in the world to answer her very important question, his hands descended from her waist, over the curve of her bottom, leaving a trail of quivering flesh in its wake. When he reached the bottom curve of her butt cheeks, she thought she might die from anticipation. He crushed her against his erection. “Do you feel any doubt about what I want?”

  She gasped for breath. “No, but I guess I should ask what you want from me beyond the bedroom. I mean. . .” For the first time, real doubt crept into her thoughts. “You’re my client, but you’re also my temporary boss. I don’t want people to know we are together beyond a business arrangement. They’ll think I got the job because I’m sleeping with you.”

  “So we’re keeping this secret?” His voice sounded authoritative, diplomatic and yet vulnerable at the same time.

  “Yes, I think that would be best. At least until after the AlaskaCon party. Then we can re-assess things. See where things stand. Is that okay with you?” Her heart pounded as seconds ticked by, waiting for his answer.

  His fingers slipped lower and tightened on the hem of her skirt, and he rested his head against her forehead. His breathing was heavy. His blue eyes seemed to darken. “Yes, I agree. We are a secret until after the party, then we’ll decide where things go. But I have a feeling I’m going to need a lot of private meetings. . . you know, to sample the menu items.”

  Relief flooded every inch of her body. She had been so tense waiting for his answer, wondering if he would agree to keep their liaison only between them. The heat between their bodies intensified. The air in her apartment sizzled with anticipation.

  In one quick motion, he pulled her skirt up to her waist and cupped his hands under her bottom, exploring her with his long fingers. “I’ve been dying to do that all night.”

  Her entire body shivered with need. Her core pulsed to life. She reached for the buttons of his shirt. “I was serious about the glasses, you know. Everything off, except for them.”

  “It’s a deal, as long as you take everything off except those shoes of yours.” He lifted her off her feet and into his arms. “Now, where’s your bedroom? You did demand to have me in your bed, and I don’t want to disappoint.”

  Chapter Nine

  The night of the grand re-opening had arrived quickly. Lauren checked the spiral buns on each side of her head in the mirror. With her Princess Leia costume complete, she walked out of the hotel’s kitchen to inspect all their dishes. Her eyes automatically searched for Trey. They’d been virtually inseparable in the weeks since the hotel picnic.

  The grand re-opening had the cosplay AlaskaCon theme they had discussed, and the advertising Trey had done in advance to cement the hotel’s comic book/family-friendly status went off spectacularly. All indications showed the party would have a record number of guests.

  Lauren spotted Myles, aka Chewbacca, talking to the bartenders. She had convinced him to fly up to help her out, and he had obliged, claiming seeing Alaska was on his bucket list anyway. She slid up alongside him and said, “Will someone get this big walking carpet out of my way?” She elbowed him in the ribs. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

  “I’m amazed how calm you can be. I really am,” Myles said.

  “What’s to worry about? Everything’s going to be perfect. Have you seen my scruffy-looking nerf herder anywhere?” She glanced around the hotel’s entryway and all the people filing in.

  “Han Solo, your boyfriend? No, last time I saw him he was making sure the valet staff knew where to park everyone’s cars.” Myles glanced over her shoulder. “Nix that. He’s headed our way right now.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Lauren said and swung around.

  “Yeah, right,” Myles said. “And I’m not Chewbacca.”

  Warmth spread through her limbs at the sight of Trey’s sexy swagger. Him dressed as Han Solo. . . well, she had a few fantasies in mind she planned on re-enacting tonight. All in the spirit of good cosplay, of course. “There’s my scoundrel,” she said.

  “You like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life,” he whispered not too quietly in her ear.

  She laughed. His warm breath caused a whoosh of pleasure to zigzag down her spine.

  Myles threw his hands up. “Would you guys stop already? The whole hearts-and-flowers thing is getting old.”

  Were they that obvious? She had determined to keep their relationship on the down-low. They met in her apartment at night. They never had meetings during the day, although it would have been perfectly acceptable, because she was his caterer. The secrecy had been exciting, but now that their self-imposed deadline had arrived, Lauren was unsure. “You’re practically a newlywed yourself. You and Sarah have only been married a couple years.”

  “Ah, but you forget—we have a baby who doesn’t let us sleep. I haven’t been laid in weeks.” Myles set out trays of smoked salmon cherry tomatoes for the servers to carry.

  “Bring the baby to me. I’ll babysit. Wouldn’t want you not getting laid—it makes you grouchy.” Lauren arranged a tray of caprese salad kabobs.

  “You’re the farthest thing I’ve ever seen from being grouchy,” Myles said.

  “I like to keep my princess happy,” Trey piped in with a big grin.

  “Oh God, I think I might be sick,” Myles commented. “You two have taken the lovebird thing to a whole new level, but I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  “Great.” Lauren beamed at Myles and she realized she’d never felt so carefree and happy in her entire life, but at the same time she was stressed about meeting Trey’s expectations. She was good at failing, she was good at letting people down; she wasn’t sure she could handle a committed relationship with someone as nice as Trey. She’d eventually hurt him. She’d screw up somehow.

  Trey reached behind the cloth-covered table and squeezed her hand. “Time to cut the ribbon and get this party started.”

  So thoughtful of him to keep the simple gesture and touch hidden from curious eyes. Well, except Myles, because he’d figured out what was going on anyway. She glanced at Myles, because looking into Trey’s eyes would feel too personal and tonight was about business. “We’re ready, aren’t we, Myles?”

  Myles handed a tray full of kabobs to a server and gave her a quick nod. “We are, your worshipfulness.”

  “Okay, then,” Trey said with confidence and made his way through the peop
le and toward the front doors. “I’ll cut the ribbon and officially get started.”

  Lauren stared after him. She’d made several more catering deals since she’d signed with Trey. Moose’s Tooth had its regular customers back and then some. Everything couldn’t be going better for her.

  Kayla approached, wearing a white cotton dress with a six-inch leather belt. Her hair fell in two braids down each shoulder, and she wore flat sandals with leather straps crisscrossed up her calves.

  Determined to stick to the business of making tonight a success for the Salmon Catcher Hotel, Lauren said, “Let me guess. A Viking shield maiden?”

  “Yes, finally someone who knows what I am. More specifically Lagertha Lothbrok from Vikings, but unlike you with your Han Solo, I haven’t found my Ragnar.” Now even Kayla was referring to them as a couple. Apparently, they hadn’t done a very good job of keeping their liaison secret.

  “I thought they got divorced?” Lauren said as she automatically scanned the room for a glimpse of Trey.

  “True, but my heart still belongs to him,” Kayla said.

  Lauren laughed and spotted Trey visiting with some guests. The guy really was a boy scout. He’d changed so much from high school. Gone was the shy boy hiding behind his comic books. In his place was a confident hotelier. She turned her attention back to Kayla. “Are you having a good time?”

  “Yes, I am, but not as much fun as Trey’s having.” She pointed to the spiral staircase where Trey was talking with a couple, who had to be Batman and Catwoman. “I have to tell you, I’ve never seen my boss so happy. He was always so serious until you came to town. Everything was about work, now he’s just. . . Well, he’s a little more easygoing.”

  “We’ve been working a lot in preparation for tonight, but we’ve made some time to relax, too. He helped me put some flower boxes up in front of the bakery. In fact, he built the flower boxes himself. The guy has a lot of talents.”

  “Yeah, well, he walks into the office each morning like he has life by the tail.” Kayla took a long pull from the beer bottle she held. “I have to say I’m a little jealous.”