Beach Daddy

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Beach Daddy Page 40

by Mia Ford


  “Hailey,” I said with a sigh. “I know he is capable of doing things himself. I just want to stick to my word.”

  “You mean so he doesn’t treat you like a child again? I’m sorry, Bea, I know we’ve had this conversation before.” She sighed.

  “Then just let it go,” I replied, not wanting to argue.

  “All right,” she said. “Letting it go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  “For sure,” I replied.

  I hung up with Hailey and tossed the phone on the counter, finishing getting dinner ready. I wanted it all to be ready and on the table when he arrived. By the time I was nearly done putting the last touches on the table settings, Grant walked through the door, putting his briefcase down and taking off his jacket. I smiled and walked toward him, readying myself for a kiss. Instead, he looked over at the table and tossed his jacket in my arms, completely ignoring my ploy for affection. I hung up his jacket and sighed, figuring he was just preoccupied from just getting off work. I walked up beside him and looked down at the spread.

  “I made your favorite,” I said, beaming. “And it just got off the stove, so it will be deliciously hot.”

  I looked back at the large dish of spaghetti still steaming in the pan, lying next to the crispy garlic bread, and two individually plated kale salads with my homemade raspberry maple dressing. My stomach growled slightly, and I realized I had been so busy at work earlier, and then panicked to get dinner ready when I got home, that I hadn’t had anything to eat except for a piece of toast that Grant hadn’t wanted before he left for work. Either way, I was proud of my hard work, and I hoped that he would enjoy it.

  “Yes, it takes a gourmet chef to put together spaghetti and meatballs,” he said with a smirk, sitting down at the table.

  I ignored his comment, but not the hurt feeling in my chest and crossed around, sitting down in the seat on the other side of the table. I held the bread out for him, but he ignored me, going for the spaghetti and meatballs. I set it down and waited, picking at my salad.

  “How do you like it?” I asked.

  “You know,” he said, wiping his mouth. “This reminds me of a lesson I learned at work today. So many people come to my office, so proud of a project that they put together, a project that is absolute shit in my opinion. But today, watching Marcy Bower from marketing beam about her work during our conference, I realized that not everyone is me. Not everyone can work hard and produce brilliant work. I had to learn to humble myself a bit and give them props for a job well done, even if it was something I could do in my sleep. So, thank you for dinner, Bea. You did a lovely job. I can see you are very proud of yourself.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a putdown or a compliment, but it didn’t feel good in the least. We sat silently eating, with Grant occasionally asking me a question, but cutting me off before I could fully answer it. I sipped at my glass of wine, watching him across the table, texting away on his phone. He was completely in another world, lost in the digital conversation he was having with God knows who. Every once in a while, he would smirk or chuckle at the person on the other end of the phone before glancing up at me and tossing his phone to the side, just to pick it back up when the little chime would come through. I was eating dinner to the sound of cellphone rings, but I kept my irritation at bay and just enjoyed my dinner. When his phone rang, I glanced up, watching him answer.

  “Hey there,” he said, chuckling. “No, no, you’re not pulling me away. I wasn’t doing anything of importance. Yes, that does need to be taken care of… Absolutely… All right then, give me ten or so minutes, and I’ll head over there.”

  I looked up at him and watched as he took a big swig of his wine and wiped his mouth. This was just like him, always leaving in the middle of the dinner or shortly thereafter, especially lately. He took in a deep breath and stood up, straightening his clothes and glancing over at me.

  “Sorry, love,” he said. “Work calls. Like always. I promise this weekend, we will have some time, just you and me.”

  I smiled and tilted my head upward, ready for that kiss I’d been after since he got here. Instead, he leaned over and kissed my forehead before turning and grabbing his coat. He smiled at me with that charming smile that had hooked me in the first place and walked out the door. I jumped slightly as the front door slammed shut, the rush of cold air from outside hitting me in the face. I sighed and filled my wine glass, looking out the window across the room. There were small snowflakes lightly falling from the sky, and the window was fogged from the temperature difference. It looked like it was going to be just another quiet night with me and my thoughts. I was actually getting pretty used to it. but I was still unsure of whether he was completely telling me the truth or not.

  I shook my head, trying not to question his integrity. I had fallen for Grant a long time ago, with his pretty eyes and English accent. I had agreed to be in a relationship with him, which was a huge move for me. Doing that, I knew that I couldn’t question him, or have any ideas that I couldn’t trust him because trust was the foundation of a relationship. With Grant, if you didn’t have trust, you were pretty screwed because he came and went as he pleased, with little to no explanation. I had known that from the beginning. It was only now starting to get to me a bit because he no longer made the effort to spend time with me like he used to. It was more than a little bit frustrating.

  I sat there at the table and finished my dinner, and the bottle of wine, for that matter. When I was done with my food, I took my glass of wine and walked over to the doors leading out onto the terrace. I wasn’t about to go outside. It was winter in Basalt, Colorado, which meant temperatures were below freezing. I didn’t have a huge place, but like so many others in Basalt, my windows spanned my living room, from floor to ceiling. I had an amazing view, which was why I chose this place to begin with. It was white outside, and I knew that skiing had begun, bringing tourists to the area. I, myself, had never skied before, but I loved the winter wonderland around me. Luckily, I had a job that allowed me to work from home, so I didn’t have to deal with the whole issue of driving in the blustery conditions, unless, of course, I ran out of wine. Then, it was definitely worth an emergency trip.

  I sighed, taking the last gulp of my warm, red cabernet and walking back to the table. I started to pick up the dishes and take them to the kitchen, scraping Grant’s half-eaten plate of mediocre spaghetti into the trash. As I washed the dishes and put away the leftovers, I thought about the future, knowing I had reached a point in my life where I was tired of searching.

  I had a great job, that I had managed to become extremely successful at, and an amazing house. My boyfriend wasn’t always such a dick, and I knew that this was probably the best that it was ever going to get for me. I was never looking for a fairy tale, but I was looking forward to the day when Grant finally proposed and I could start building a family. This house would be a lot nicer with the sound of little feet slapping the wooden floors.

  When I was done cleaning up, I sighed and walked into the living room where I flipped off the lights, turned on the gas fireplace, and snuggled up on the couch with a warm fleece and some old black and white movies. This was the part of the day I really enjoyed, whether Grant was there or not. I could finally relax.

  Chapter 3

  Cameron

  It was Saturday, easily the busiest day of the week for instruction. Glen and I had a couple of classes the day before, but nothing too strenuous, and I spent my night sipping brandy like an old rich man by the fireplace in my room. I thought about picking up another girl at the lounge, but figured I should pace myself instead. This morning was extra cold on the mountain, but I loved it, every single bit of it. Glen and I were setting up for our first class of the day, getting the seats ready in the small building at the top of the hill where we taught basic safety and technique before trying it out with our students in the white stuff outside. We still had a couple of weeks before the Christmas crowd got here, but the classes were already booked so
lid. Knowing Glen and I would create happy guests, the hotel manager had requested that the front desk clerks recommend our classes first.

  “So,” Glen said, putting down the folders on the desks. “How did things go with that redhead the other night?”

  “Oh, you know. I wooed her with my charm.” I laughed. “She was really hot, though, with her big fake tits, freshly purchased snow gear, showing me that she wasn’t a professional skier by any means, and a body that was perfect. No doubt she was someone’s arm candy back at home, but that is none of my business. I simply did what I could to show her a good time and give her a pleasant memory to take home. I’m a hero, really.”

  “Oh, is that so?”

  “Yep,” I said, writing our names on the chalk board. “These women are missing something in their lives, and I offer them a bit of the unexpected. I bet you, they all go home feeling refreshed and a hell of a lot more confident. If any of them do have boyfriends off the slope, they should probably thank me for sending their women back more vibrant than ever.”

  “Oh, I see. So, you save relationships now. Well, the girl the other night looked like the kind of girl that you would quickly get over after screwing.” He chuckled.

  “That’s why I got a blow job, took her number, which I promptly disposed of when I was out of sight, and dipped out,” I said. “Sure, she will think of me for a couple of days, maybe even hope that I’ll call, but in the end, she’ll realize it was for the best.”

  “I think you’re giving these women a bit too much credit for thinking of sex from the male perspective,” he said. “We’re pigs. Most women are not. Mind you, I’m saying most. I’ve met a few over the years who are more distant than we are, which is both frightening and refreshing at the same time.”

  “You can’t be too careful with these girls on vacation. They’re looking for a good time, but they teeter on the edge of wanting more. I’m always courteous and gentlemanly, but I’m not here to find a wife, unlike some partners that I have.” I darted my eyes over to Glen. “Besides, they’re looking for something that I’m more than happy to give to them. Just another reason why you can call me a hero.”

  “But what if you catch feelings?”

  “I won’t,” I said pointedly. “But if I did, I’m under the comforting protection of having a career where I honestly will never have to see this woman, or any of the women, ever again. It’s not likely in the sea of people in this town, or this country for that matter, that fate would align it so that we all ended up in the same place, at the same exact time, ever again. And if we did, my feelings would obviously have dissipated again, being worn down by time and the comforting bosom of the ladies at the next resort on our list. Seriously, you put way too much thought into all of this. Can’t a guy just get his dick wet, and go on with his life?”

  “Sure, sure.” Glen laughed. “Go to town. Just don’t get frostbite.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” I scoffed, standing up and putting on a professional face as the door to the building opened and the first of my students began to enter.

  Most of the beginner ski instruction went to early twenty-something girls from places like New York City and Southern California. They were there on their mommy and daddy’s dime, taking a fun-filled Aspen vacation because that was where all the rich people flocked when it became winter time, and they wanted the appeal of the mountains, but the luxuries of home. They were always giggly, flirty, and barely any of them actually ended up skiing more than once while they were on vacation. However, from the number of pictures that they took and posted on their Instagram pages, it would seem that they spent the whole weekend swerving down the slopes. I didn’t care either way. I was there for the money, not to find the next Bernard Russi, ready to train for the Olympics.

  When everyone had been seated, I noticed four chairs at the back that were empty, but paid for. I wanted to wait longer, but with the number of classes they had stacked on our shoulders for the day, I didn’t have that luxury. Glen took the lead, introducing us and diving right into an overview on safety. I sat in the background, perched slightly on the edge of a desk, following along with the syllabus that the resort had requested that we use. Of course, safety was paramount to the hotel while we were there teaching, especially with the kind of money floating around the place.

  Just as Glen was walking toward the chalkboard, the door flew open, and the four missing students came galivanting in the place, quietly giggling and apologizing for being late. They took a seat in the last four chairs, and I smiled uncomfortably, realizing it was Myra and three of her friends. She smiled at me, and I cleared my throat, glancing over at Glen to see a small smirk on his face.

  “So, you see class,” he said. “If you want to stay warm, make sure to keep your hands and other parts dry. We wouldn’t want any cases of frostbite.”

  He laughed jokingly, looking over at me and then walking up to the chalkboard. He was such an ass, but I knew there was no way I could get out of the taunting that was sure to ensue by Myra showing up at the class. I wasn’t sure how I could have missed that on the roster, but at the same time, until that moment, I had a hard time even remembering what her name was. In reality, what I remembered was her big, plump, crimson lips wrapped around my cock. To me, there was really no reason to dwell on the other details.

  The entire rest of the class couldn’t have been more awkward if I was standing naked in front of the class. Myra and the girls were giggling and obviously talking about me, and I had to present information to them that was actually important if they wanted to try to keep their skis under their bodies. On top of all that, Glen kept teasing me with sly whispers about being a hero and rescuing sad rich girls in sexual distress. I couldn’t wait until the class was over and I could get out of that situation. I knew, though, there was a very good chance that I wasn’t going to get to leave without having to talk to Myra at some point. This was supposed to be an excellent way to start my vacation, not a bowl full of drama.

  We finished up the class inside of the building and headed outside into the snow to work on minor techniques for the upcoming ski down the bunny slope. We showed everyone how to plant their feet, how to bend and move without lifting their legs, which was common since our natural reaction was to try to walk, and then had them perform the movements as we helped them get them right. I stood there staring around, trying to figure out where to start, wanting desperately to stay away from the gaggle of Myra and her girls.

  “Hey,” I said, grabbing Glen and whispering. “I’ll cover the bar tab next time we go if you will help the redhead and her friends.”

  “What’s wrong? Did your super powers wear off?”

  “Come on man, please,” I whispered.

  “Next two times at the bar,” he said, negotiating.

  “Fine, whatever, just do it.” I sighed.

  “Pussy.” He laughed.

  I couldn’t help but notice that Myra looked disappointed that I didn’t make a beeline for her and her friends. That was exactly why I sent Glen over. I didn’t want to lead her on in any way further than I felt I might have already. She was being flirtatious, batting her eyelashes and biting her lip, but at the same time, I could see the look of wanting hidden behind her stare. I needed to nip that in the bud, and fast.

  When it was time to send the class on their way, pushing down the bunny slope, I stood at the front, giving everyone a positive affirmation before they lunged forward down the mountain next to the little kids speeding past. When it was Myra and her friend’s turn, I let the three friends go first and smiled as Myra struggled toward me.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow,” she said, lightening the burning in my chest.

  “Aww, that’s too bad,” I said. “I hope that you had a good time.”

  “It was an amazing time.” She smiled. “I guess I was just wondering if I would ever see you again.”

  “Myra,” I said kindly. “I had an amazing time the other night. You’re quite the woman. That being sa
id, I find it best for both parties, that when I meet someone out here that is on vacation, I don’t get too involved. I travel from place to place, and you’re going back home. It would never truly work out in the end.”

  I stood there staring at her, trying to read her face through the scarf and goggles. Finally, she nodded and smiled, relieving the tension in my chest. I let out a deep breath and smiled at her.

  “I understand.” She laughed awkwardly. “I mean, I live in Southern California. I’m miles and miles from where you would ever be.”

  “I’m glad you understand,” I said. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, sad, or even unwanted in any way. You’re a gorgeous woman, and I’ll be kicking myself in the weeks to come for not spending more time with you.”

  “You’re sweet,” she said, relaxing her shoulders. “No, I promise. You’re absolutely right. There’s no way to make this work. I really did have a good time, though. Hopefully, we’ll run into each other again out here.”

  “That would be amazing.” I smiled, feeling a lot less awkward. “Now, are you ready to give this bunny slope an Olympic gold run?”

  “Hardly.” She laughed. “But here I go.”

  I stood back and smiled at her, watching her push off and down the mountain. When she was no longer looking at me, I wiped the smile from my face and shook my head, realizing I needed to be a bit more cautious. I turned and started back toward the building, looking up to see Glen standing with his arms crossed, smiling.

  “Shut up,” I said, looking at him.

  “You are quite the hero.” He laughed.

 

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