“Now why would you ask me that?”
“Were they?” Marc pressed.
“Mrs. Incredible’s head was torn off.”
Marc felt the adrenaline rush surge through his system. Ignoring the cold wind that attacked eagerly the moment he stepped out of his warm car, he stalked up the sidewalk to London’s house, needing space, needing to move, as his thoughts started racing in his brain.
“Dad, we have a situation,” Marc said, facing the street and glancing up and down it. Someone pulled into a narrow driveway down the block, a husband or wife coming home to their normal family after another day at the office. “I got a package in the mail over the weekend.”
“What?” his father asked, his tone unnervingly calm.
“It was the type of bride-and-groom figurine you would find on top of a wedding cake, except the bride’s head was ripped off.”
“No shit,” Greg breathed. “But why a bride and groom?” His brain was processing quickly. “Is there a woman in your life?”
“I’ve been spending some time with a lady who works at the Elk Ski Lodge, where I’m staying. She works behind the front desk and brought the package to my room.”
“What’s her name? I’ll run a check on her,” his father decided.
“Her name is London Brooke. But I’m here to tell you now, Dad, she didn’t have a damn thing to do with that package being sent to me.” Marc paced back to his car but wasn’t ready to climb into the warm confinement of it yet. He retraced his steps up her walk to her front porch, staring at the imprints of his boots in the dusting of snow that had covered her walk since he’d last been here. “She doesn’t even know what I do for a living,” he added. “And I’ll be damned if I let her get mixed up in some case I don’t even know about yet.”
“I’ll run the check anyway,” his dad said. “I’m sure she’s fine. You’ve always had good taste in women, just like your old man. But if someone is sending us cryptic messages for some sick game they’re concocting, our women might be in danger.”
“Run your check and get back with me,” Marc grumbled. “I’ll keep you posted at this end. Unless you have any more great news to share with me?”
“Your mother misses you.”
Marc sighed and watched his breath form a cloud in front of his face. The cold finally hit him and he wrapped his coat around him, stuffing his free hand in his pocket. “Put her on. Let me say hi to her,” he said.
He calmed down a bit talking to his mother. It didn’t surprise him that she was just as preoccupied with the current events happening to them as Marc’s dad was. Haley King had a knack for putting clues together and creating a full picture. When shit hit the fan she didn’t panic, and if someone attacked her family, she was planning her counterattack before any of them could start a brainstorming session.
“How much longer are you staying out there?” she asked after going over with Marc all the details he and his father had just discussed.
“I was thinking about staying out here for another week or so. I’m not sure how long. I thought it would do me some good getting away from it all.”
“Sometimes it does do you good.” His mom was reassuring, her soft, soothing tone always a comfort. “Are you thinking about coming home sooner?”
“I’ve been out here less than two weeks.” Marc knew his time with London was short-term, but that didn’t mean he wanted to leave yet. There wasn’t any point, though, in letting anyone know that was the first thought that came to mind when he was asked about heading home. “I’ve been thinking about booking the room at the ski lodge for another month, but we’ll see,” he said, hoping that would appease his mother.
“And what’s this I hear about a lady?”
Marc studied London’s porch stairs, noticing one of them seemed a bit crooked. It would come loose eventually if it wasn’t fixed.
“Her name is London and we’re just hanging out some,” he said, downplaying his current relationship with London for his mother’s sake as well as for his. “She works at the Elk Ski Lodge,” he added, knowing he had to give his mother something or she would press for more details.
“Is she pretty?” Haley was pressing anyway.
“Yes, Mom. She is very pretty.”
That apparently satisfied her. “Maybe you could take a few pictures and send them through your phone. God forbid I forget what my oldest son looks like.”
She was teasing and his mother was as close to Superwoman as it got. That didn’t mean she wasn’t a woman, and he didn’t miss her meaning. She missed her oldest son and if there was a woman in his life, she wanted to check her out.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said. Then sending his love, and promising to call again soon, he ended the call.
Marc glanced at the time on his phone. It was going on six. Maybe London wasn’t coming straight home. It crossed his mind she might be doing one of those walking tours. He hadn’t thought to check before leaving the lodge. Glancing at the stairs again, he climbed them, testing the stair that seemed a bit crooked. That’s when he noticed the package in front of London’s front door.
*
London walked into the lodge just as large snowflakes started falling. It had been a good group tonight for the walking tour. They were all even more enthusiastic when they made it back to the lobby just as it started snowing.
“We were very impressed with your knowledge of the area.” An older woman stood next to her husband, straightening and clasping her hands in front of her as she spoke.
“Thank you. I’m so glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“I didn’t know skiing didn’t start in Aspen until the late thirties and that the sport didn’t take off until after World War Two.” The husband patted his wife’s back and grinned at London. “You not only gave us a good workout; it was educational as well. We were very impressed.”
“Again, thank you,” London said, and left the couple to visit with some other guests who remained gathered in front of the fireplace in the lobby.
London’s boss, Cliff Hampton, the manager of the ski lodge, stood behind the counter talking to several people who were around London’s age. They laughed at something he said and she realized he was checking them in as she moved around the counter. She glanced at the clipboard that showed how many had signed up for the tours for the rest of the week. Marc hadn’t signed up for any of them. There was still a pang of disappointment that didn’t go away even when she scolded herself about getting involved with a guest.
“London,” Cliff said when she started around the corner to the break room.
“Yes?” she asked, pausing before the end of the counter.
“I’m hearing how well you’re doing with the tours,” he said. Cliff didn’t hand out compliments. London was convinced he believed himself perfect and assumed everyone else should be, too. He didn’t buy into offering praise for anything he thought should be normal behavior. London studied him, waiting for a bomb to drop. “You don’t miss a day of work, which is how it should be,” he added, holding true to his nature.
“I enjoy my job,” she offered, not seeing any reason to tell him anything other than the truth.
“Good.” Cliff bobbed his head and not one hair of his dark brown hair moved. “Then maybe you can explain to me why you’re fraternizing with one of our guests when you know it violates policy.”
The phone rang and Cliff gave her a knowing look, with a gleam in his eye telling her she was busted. He reached to answer it, looking away from her first. London had half a mind to bolt to the break room and dodge out the back door. She didn’t need Cliff’s lectures. She ran this place as well as he did, if not better. Cliff had been known to allow his mightier-than-thou nature to rub off on a guest or two over the years. London always greeted them with a smile on her face. No way would he belittle her when no one had ever filed a complaint against her.
Running would imply her guilt. As much as she didn’t want to, London held her ground and waited for him
to get off the phone. Cliff studied her a moment after hanging up.
“I assume you know what I’m talking about,” he said finally.
“I know I’m not doing anything wrong, Cliff,” she said, seriously doubting he could prove otherwise, not unless he’d stood outside her house and took pictures through her windows. He wouldn’t get her to admit she’d had sex with Marc. It was none of his damn business. “If you have a complaint against me, I’m willing to discuss it with you.”
Cliff sighed, running his perfectly manicured fingers through his thick hair. Not too surprisingly, it looked the same when he moved his hand. “You went out in a blizzard to help Mr. King return to the lodge when his car got stuck. The other day you took a package to his room and were gone over thirty minutes.”
London couldn’t believe either Meryl or Todd, who were the two working during both of those incidents, would go complaining to Cliff about her. Cliff was sniffing around, and what mattered to her more at the moment than his knowing these things was why was he sniffing?
She tilted her head, studying his triumphant smile. He wanted to bust her, really wanted her to admit her guilt. It hit her that possibly Cliff was aggravated with her being the better employee than him. Maybe he felt threatened.
London shook her head, which immediately caused him to narrow his brow and frown. She wasn’t going to take a fall so he could assure himself he was still the best there was.
“‘Fraternizing’ is a pretty harsh term,” she said, taking her time and trying to read him accurately as she spoke. “Now if you were to say I was being nice to a guest who is nice to all of us, I would have to say, ‘Guilty as charged.’ But you and I both know what ‘fraternizing’ implies. Are you sure you want to go there, Cliff? That’s a pretty harsh charge.” And he had no proof.
She wasn’t sure if his cheeks flamed red out of embarrassment or anger. He looked away, grumbling something under his breath.
“That’s what I thought,” she said, smiling and starting to the break room.
“Stay away from him,” Cliff grumbled, storming after her but stopping just outside the end of the counter.
London looked in his direction, her hand on the break room door, and was actually surprised. Cliff never raised his voice. For the most part, he never bothered her at all. Most of their conversations over the past three years since she’d started working here were nothing more than nods and casual greetings. She did her job right, and she did it well. London could live without his praise and gratification, but she wouldn’t live with him threatening and raising his voice at her.
At the same time, she wouldn’t make a scene by raising her voice down the hall. “I’ll treat every guest here the same,” she said under her breath, moving slowly in on him until they stood face-to-face. “With a smile and professional attitude,” she added, dying to tell him where he could stick that cocky attitude. Cliff wouldn’t make her lose her cool, though.
He didn’t say anything else and London was still shaking as she drove home. It wasn’t the first time she’d gone home from work in the dark, but everything around her being black somehow put her even more on edge. It was bad enough receiving pictures of her parents, which brought back memories and feelings for them she didn’t usually dwell on. Marc’s receiving the deformed wedding couple probably wasn’t related, but it was still really weird. Now Cliff was acting strange. If he really thought she was having sex with Marc, he should have approached it differently. But even more so, London never would have guessed him the type of manager who would have said a thing about it in the first place, unless she was openly fooling around with a guest where other guests could see. Which she was most definitely not doing!
London scowled at the car parked in front of her house. She pulled into her driveway and recognized it. Marc wasn’t anywhere in sight, though.
Get a grip, she thought to herself, taking a moment before getting out of her car. It wouldn’t help if Marc saw her frazzled. He would want to solve all of her problems, and there wasn’t anything he could do about any of this.
An icy breeze blew snow around her when she got out and hurried to her front porch.
“You said I could stop by unannounced,” Marc said jovially, trotting up her sidewalk and climbing the porch stairs behind her.
“That’s fine,” she said, holding her house key and smiling at him when he opened the front screen door for her. “How did you know I worked late tonight?”
“I didn’t.” He was right behind her when she entered her dark living room. “I came by here shortly after five. When you didn’t come home I ran some errands and came back.”
London was shocked. What kind of man wasted time and continued coming by just to spend time with her?
“I also called the lodge to find out when you would be off work,” he added, following her into her kitchen as she turned on lights.
London couldn’t stop herself this time. She stared at him, her jaw dropping. Cliff guessed they were seeing each other on the side because Marc had called and asked about her. Why didn’t Cliff say that to her?
She blinked, convincing herself there were many reasons Marc might have asked about her schedule. It still wasn’t proof she was having sex with him.
“You look shocked,” he said, running his thumb along her jaw.
“Not many men would go to such an effort to see me,” she admitted.
“Then they’re all fools,” he muttered, grabbing her chin and tilting her head back so he could kiss her.
London had an agenda when she came home. There were things she was going to do. For the life of her, as Marc ravished her mouth, she couldn’t remember any of what she’d planned for her evening.
“Hungry?” Marc whispered into her mouth.
“Starving.”
His deep laughter sent chills rushing over her flesh. Marc ran his hands down her back and cupped her ass. It was such a comfortable spot being wrapped in his arms, with all that packed muscle to lean against. What a life it would be coming home to him, being able to share the good and the bad of her days. It was so incredible, imagining it seemed wrong. Nothing was permanent and this torrid relationship with Marc was definitely proof of that. If she were smart she would listen to Cliff and tell Marc not to come around. She could blame it on a long day or on being exhausted, but she didn’t have the strength to tell him to leave. More than anything she wanted him to stay.
“How about a pizza, my treat?” he asked.
It was nicer than she would have imagined cuddling on the couch, the remote on Marc’s lap, as they ordered pizza and talked while waiting for it to show up. He didn’t bring up the deformed wedding couple and she almost forgot about the pictures.
*
The last thing Marc wanted to do was leave. Full from pizza and having peeked outside to see his car covered with a thick layer of snow, he thought staying with London was a perfect idea. Not that he searched for an excuse. Something about her made it easy to relax and be himself.
“My mom asked about you,” he said, staring at the TV and rubbing his thumb over her shoulder as they cuddled.
Leaning against him on the couch, with his arm draped around her, was cozy and perfect. She shifted, staring at him a moment before saying anything.
“Why would she ask about me?”
He took his time answering and wrinkled his brow, making a show of giving it some thought. “I think it came up when she asked me when I was coming home.”
“Doesn’t she know you’ve booked your room at the lodge until the end of the month?”
“She knows.”
“Are you a mama’s boy?” London teased.
It crossed his mind to tell her more, open up to her a bit. It was terrifying how easy it would be to do. London grinned at him, her black eyes glowing and her hair drifting over her shoulders and tickling his arm. Sexy and a great personality. What the hell was she doing in Colorado and not California, where he might consider taking their relationship to the next level?<
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“Hardly,” he said, scowling.
Her grin broadened. “Sounds like you might be,” she continued, twisting against him and facing him instead of the TV. “Mom wants you safe at home where she can make sure you choose a good girl.”
“And you aren’t a good girl?” He grabbed her, dragging her over his lap.
London laughed out loud, flipping in his arms so she faced him. Her smile faded and she arched one eyebrow while dragging her fingers down his cheek.
“You tell me how good I am,” she whispered, moving against his cock.
It leapt to life, eager for the attention. Marc grabbed her waist before she could cause pain. “I swear to God, woman. I’ll rip those clothes off your body if you keep that up,” he hissed, clenching his teeth and fighting to concentrate.
London showed him no mercy and fought against his grasp to move. When he lifted her, mainly to prevent her from getting him too hard to think straight, she straddled him and lifted her body against him. Her breasts were damn close to his face and her hair shrouded both of them as she began planting soft kisses on his face.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” she whispered.
Marc growled, the rumbling in his chest vibrating between the two of them. She responded with something that sounded like a soft purr as she continued torturing him with her moist lips.
“I warned you,” he said, his voice raspy with need.
He grabbed the loose-fitting, soft sweater she wore and dragged it up her body. London responded by arching in front of him. She quit kissing him and straightened, raising her arms and letting her head fall back, making it easy to pull off her. Her hair fanned around her shoulders and fell down past her breasts when she lowered her arms, once again draping them over his shoulders.
“Trying to make me a bad girl?” she asked, lifting herself and pressing her breasts into his face.
She wore a lace bra, this one blue, and her creamy flesh pressed against it, showing off how full and perky her breasts were. He dropped her sweater and ran his hands up her bare arms. London smelled good, making him think she might have dabbed perfume on when she came home without him noticing. Imagining her stealing away for a moment to make herself more appealing to him turned him on even more. He found her nipple through the lace and latched on with his teeth.
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