She blinked rapidly and shook her head, continuing to back up. “Okay.” She started nodding. “Good to know how you feel.”
She was retreating. I’d hurt her and she was retreating. Classic Gretchen. Guilt twisted at me. I didn’t want to hurt her. But this was all too much. This night. Seeing him. Being in charge of one of my first work events, trying to prove my worth to Vincent, and then to act like a schoolgirl seeing her crush. I would have to go smooth things over. I had to prove my worth to Vincent. Gretchen would understand that. Once we all calmed down.
“Look, I just wished you had talked to me first. I have to get back to work. I’ll call you later,” I said.
She held up her arms. “Sure. You do what you gotta do.”
“You took the choice away from me, Gretchen, can you understand that?” I asked defeated.
She held my gaze for another moment, then sauntered away without another word. I waited until the urge to cry passed and went back to the table. Sanders was gone. No surprise. I didn’t look for him. We could talk next week. At work. Work we would be working together.
I kept my focus on helping people and packing up as the movie ended. Feeling eyes on me, I glanced up once to see Sanders with Gretch and Suzie, Ford, and his friend Jack. Quickly I averted my gaze, pushing down the hurt.
I still couldn’t believe Sanders was here. And he worked for Outside the Box. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around all of it. As though he could hear me thinking about him, Sanders looked up at me with worry. I swore I could hear his thoughts.
Can we talk?
Not right now. I looked away. I wasn’t ready. I just had to get through the rest of the night.
“I see your wheels spinning,” Vincent said as we loaded guests back on to the shuttle at the end of the night. He looked concerned. “Whatever is going on, I promise it’s going to be okay.”
I nodded. It would be. I had cooled off some. Maybe I had overreacted in the moment. I was just so freaked out and overwhelmed. But I would talk to Gretchen and explain how important this night was for my career. I would focus on making sure I did my job and I did it well. And I definitely wouldn’t think about destiny and the chances of seeing Sanders again. After all, I knew better than that.
Chapter 9
Sanders
It was two a.m. If I were any more wound up, I’d have enough force to shoot into space and orbit the earth a few times. I paced my room at the Lodge so many times I was covered in a sheen of sweat. A jolt of energy pulsed through me every time a thought of Roxy flashed across my mind. The insane relief at being able to see her again. The absolute solace that I hadn’t lost a chance to just talk to her again. I hadn’t realized until I saw her how scared I was. Our professional connection had to be a gift from the universe. A chance to fix whatever I had messed up.
But then, she had transformed in an instant. Holding her felt like everything in the universe had finally lined up but then, a moment later, she retreated into a shell of protection. A hard shell covering the gooey insides I had seen glimpses of. She turned quiet. Changed. Wouldn’t even look at me. Wouldn’t talk to me.
Despite the change, she was still as breathtaking as I remembered. No. More so. The image in my mind was a screenshot of a screenshot, reposted too many times. It did no justice to her breathtaking beauty. Her gaze that pierced to my chest. Those lips that begged to be sucked on.
Fuck.
I groaned out loud and turned to pace in the other direction.
But tonight she was so shut down. In Denver, she gifted me with her attention and conversation. It was like having a butterfly land on me. She danced without a care in the world. She spoke without doubting herself. Tonight her jaw was locked, her shoulders set with ever-present tension.
If I could have just gotten her alone and explained … I tried to get more information from Gretchen. But after her own talk with Roxy, Gretchen was a different person from the chatty redhead that had picked me up. Her arms were crossed across her body the rest of the night, and when she spoke, it was only in clipped words. Saying quote: “It wasn’t her business,” end quote. I wondered if I had done something, but when I shot a questioning look to Suzie, she just shrugged sadly.
If only I could have talked to her a bit more. That hug had been amazing. To hold her so close only to lose her again …
“This is not going to be good,” I groaned to the ceiling. I knew what I needed to do if I ever had a hope of sleeping again.
I turned the phone over and over with my fingers.
“Fuck. No. Okay.” I stopped pacing and let out a breath I’d trapped in my chest.
I unlocked the screen and dialed my best friend. It was only after several rings that I considered the time.
“Hello?” the groggy voice answered.
“Skip. Skippo. My man.”
“What time is it?” he asked.
“I messed up.” I chewed on my thumb, bracing for his reaction.
There was a moment of silence and then, “Okay. Hold on. Waking up. Just give me a second.”
My foot tapped rapidly. Shuffling sounds and then the click of a lamp.
“You messed up? You’ve been gone barely one day,” Skip said.
“Yup.”
“Okay. Back up.” More shuffling and the sounds of his steps on the wood floor of the hallway. I imagined him going to the kitchen, flipping on the light as he rubbed his eyes awake. There was the sound of the kettle turning on, right on cue. “Start from the beginning.”
I ended up talking until my voice cracked. Opening with Gretchen picking me up from the airport to the high of seeing Roxy followed by her abrupt dismissal, I told him everything.
“I thought she’d be so happy to see me.” I took a gulp of water from the bottle next to my bed. “Now I’m remembering how she left that night in Denver. Saying it had to be like this. What was I thinking?”
“You assumed that something took her away. Something that was outside of her control. You assumed the best,” Skip said simply.
A weird pain tightened my chest. “Yeah. I did.”
“You always assume the best in people,” my at-home philosopher said.
“Why does it not feel like a good thing when you say it?”
“Good is relative. Things are what they are.”
“Well, now what am I thinking?” I asked.
“And now you’re thinking that maybe she left of her own choice.”
The pain sharpened. I couldn’t seem to take in a full breath. “Yes.”
“It sounds like you need clarification. But it also sounds like she might need some time to process.”
“How so?”
“Don’t forget I met her. We actually spent a lot of time together. She was highly organized and focused. To be honest, she reminded me of myself.”
I sat on the bed. “Huh.” Wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“Yes. And she and I have similar business aesthetics,” he explained. “We collectively geeked out over the use of color-coded highlighters in our planners.”
“Nerds.”
He laughed softly. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember that I don’t like surprises. Unlike you, I find sudden change very upsetting and I need time to readjust.”
“I know, Skippo.”
“So give her some space. She might need to process things. Just don’t bombard her.”
“You’re right. I should go talk to her. I wonder if she’s awake now? How can I figure out where she lives?”
“Sanders,” his tone warned.
Skip was soft-spoken with a very slight speech impediment on some of his words. He told me once he had therapy as a kid but it still sometimes came out. He’d always been self-conscious about it and I wondered if that was why he hardly spoke. Or maybe it was because I was always the one talking when we were together. But when he had something important to say, he was firm. He was firm with me now.
I flopped back on the bed and studied the wooden beams that crossed the ceiling. �
��Fine. I’ll be patient.”
There was a sound of a deep breath.
“Hey, I can be patient,” I repeated.
“Like the time you said you would wait for me and then ran to the beach before I even had my sunscreen on?” I started to speak but he cut me off to finish. “And then you ended up getting stung by a jellyfish. Need more examples? I have plenty.”
The memory made me wince. “Point taken. Moving on.”
“You’re many wonderful things,” he explained, “but patience is a virtue that skipped you. Sometimes, this is an awesome thing, your tenacity is unmatched. Sometimes, it leads to intense talks in the middle of the night and flights to small towns in the middle of nowhere.”
“I can do this,” I said out loud mostly to myself. I felt a change happening within me. I wanted her to take me seriously.
“Make sure when you talk again, it’s on neutral ground. Somewhere she feels comfortable,” he said.
I closed my eyes and imagined Roxy’s face. Her soft, full lips. I recalled her body rocking against mine. My palms burned to touch her skin. “With her, I can be patient.”
The silence lasted so long on the other side of the line that I pulled the phone away to check that we hadn’t disconnected.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “If you’re worried about the business stuff, don’t be. I met another perspective client tonight. His name is Ford. He’s got this amazing charity that gives teens somewhere to put all their angst. We’re already planning to take them camping.”
“Despite your impulsiveness, I know you always intend to put OTB first,” he said.
“You’re not saying something.”
“I’m not worried about the business, man. Not really. I’m worried about you,” he said. “Don’t you think we should talk about things? If this is just a big distraction from—”
“No,” I said, firmly. “It’s not a distraction.”
For a split second, I wanted to tell him everything. I felt like I could crack my chest open and share with him all my worries. I could share about Dad and Roxy’s rejection and my fears about business and how I just kept managing to fuck things up when I only want to be the best …
I waited a beat too long.
“You know, I was planning on going out there anyway. I’d been looking at flights,’’ Skip said. I could practically hear him reaching for his laptop and logging on.
“What? No, mate, you know I’m fine,” I said with an easy laugh. I was the easygoing one. I wouldn’t burden him with my shit. He had his own worries.
“You’re sure?”
“Of course. I always am. I’ll clear this up. And I will nail this account. Getting more business by the day. All good things.”
I closed my eyes again. My hand rubbed circles on my chest. I reached for the half-empty bottle of antacids.
“It’ll be fine,” I said. My eyelids felt heavy. Sleep was finally taking over.
“Okay, Sanders. Just be careful.”
Chapter 10
Sanders
I took Skip’s advice to heart. I spent the rest of Saturday and Sunday completely focused on OTB and hardly thought of Roxy at all. I went into town and schmoozed with local business owners, including a nice lunch at a place called Daisy’s Nuthouse with Ford and Jack. I avoided areas where I thought Roxy might be, which was easy enough given the size of the sprawling Donner Lodge. I wandered through the winding footpaths, and mostly did my best to focus on work and respecting her space.
Well, that wasn’t to say that I wasn’t constantly thinking of Roxy but I wasn’t doing anything about those thoughts, which was serious progress. Forty-eight whole hours of not actively pursuing her challenged me. Hard as I was trying, the inaction had taken its toll and by Monday morning I was a carbonated drink that had spent the weekend on a paint shaker.
It wasn’t my fault that the very first person I saw upon leaving my room that morning was Roxy. How could I not think the universe was rewarding my patience? I’d come down to the main lobby and found her bent over, struggling to pick up a box half her height. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun and professional gray trousers clung tightly to legs I had memorized by now.
I looked to the ceiling and threw out a silent cry, Come on. You’re killing me.
The box was slightly larger than her arm span and she couldn’t get enough of a grip to leverage the size. The lobby was deserted at the early hour, so I spent twenty seconds enjoying the view. It was wrong of me. I would never let anybody else ogle her like that. But other people hadn’t known her body intimately while dancing. Hadn’t held her hand for hours. Eventually, I did move to help her. I stepped quietly until I was right behind her.
“Can I help?” I bent forward to ask in her ear.
She shot up immediately and I stepped back just in time to avoid a bloody nose.
“Sanders.” Her gaze roamed over my face, pupils dilating. For a flash she almost looked as though she were happy to see me. But then her focus flicked to check the room around us. “Hello. Good morning. Ah, no. Nope. I’m fine.” She patted the box.
“Are you sure?” I smiled and leaned in. She smelled amazing. Her scent was different each time I’d been with her, the base the same but with different accents, like a series of wines made from the same grapes but with slightly different tones. Today her underlying scent was accented by flowery notes of … gardenias?
She leaned back. “How has your stay been so far? Your accommodations are good, er satisfactory?”
“The beds are fantastic.” I smiled.
Her eyes widened a fraction and flicked around the lobby. “Good.” She nodded.
Color rose to her cheeks and I felt myself preen. But then I realized what I was doing. I was doing the literal exact opposite of what Skip told me to do. My normal, albeit overwhelming charm, would not be wise. A wave of guilt had me straightening and taking two steps back.
She smoothed her cream-colored silk blouse. I was slightly disappointed to note that I couldn’t see any of the art decorating her body that had been visible the night we met. I would love to spend hours memorizing each once. Tracing my fingers over the patterns … seeing where they led.
I cleared my throat. How long had we been standing there just staring at each other?
“Well, if you got it handled. I won’t bother you.” I turned to leave.
“Ah, actually.” She hesitated. “This delivery was supposed to go to the back entrance but somehow there was a mix-up. I was trying to move it out of the way.”
She was fixing her fringe when I turned back around. “Bit of an eyesore,” I hedged cautiously. Patience, I reminded myself.
Her hand dropped quickly. “I wanted to move it to the back office before any guests came down. It’s for a wedding this weekend.”
“Happy to help.” I hefted the box into my arms in one smooth movement. Showing off slightly. The bugger was heavy. I was sufficiently rewarded when her eyes flicked to my biceps. I flexed them as the box slipped and I readjusted to grab the bottom. She sucked in her lips and looked away. Thankfully, the box hid my cocky grin.
“Follow me,” she said.
Unfortunately, the box also blocked most of my view. The soft sounds of her heels clipping along the floor guided me. I risked my balance by looking around my burden to glimpse her retreating backside. My knuckles smashed on the corner as we turned and I almost dropped the box.
“Shit,” I swore. Served me right for not paying attention.
“Are you okay?” She helped me set the box down in a back room.
“I’m fine. Karma.” I mumbled the last part to myself.
She grabbed my hands and winced at my knuckles. It wasn’t anything bad but the skin was peeled back and there were little dots of blood along each knuckle.
“’Tis but a flesh wound,” I joked.
“Come here.” She didn’t drop my hand as we walked a few more feet to a small janitor’s closet. She set me down on an overturned bucket and opened a first
aid kit on the wall.
“It’s fine. I’ll just rinse it off,” I half-heartedly said. To be honest, there was nothing sexier than her nursing me in that little suit.
She ignored me as she took out a few things, reading the backs and reaching for the next package.
“Some help I am.” I kept talking because, boy, it was quiet in that little room. “Now, I’m keeping you from your work.”
She ripped open a square packet and shook out a damp sheet. She crouched down, balancing on her heels and gestured for my injured hand.
“Really, if you need to get back to work. I’m fine—oh, ouch!” My hand shot back but she didn’t release it.
“It’s an alcohol wipe,” she said.
“It burns like the dickens,” I said.
Her eyebrows shot up behind her fringe. Her mouth was a flat line but a little light teased her eyes. “Like the dickens?” she repeated, staying focused on her work.
I sniffed haughtily. “Nah. This is fine. I’m totally fine.” My arm tried to pull out of her grip again when the next wipe burned even more.
Now she was definitely trying not to smile.
“I’m glad my pain brings you joy.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she said lightly.
I leaned in closer and just about died when her mouth pursed and she blew a soft stream of air on my fingers. She may as well have been blowing on my cock for how hard I became in that second. I swallowed and began to mentally list all the states in America, a nearly impossible and terribly unsexy task. Don’t misinterpret things again. Just because I found her every single action sexy as all hell didn’t mean she was making a pass.
I was stock-still, too afraid to breathe or move for fear of pulling her onto my lap.
She looked up at me through her luxurious lashes. Her face was unreadable. But she wasn’t pulling back either, was she? Her gaze flicked between my eyes, dropped to my lips and then quickly shot back up. Our faces were only inches apart. My mind screamed a thousand reasons why it would be a great idea to close the distance between us. But then Skip’s dour expression popped into my head. Arms crossed over his flannel shirt and his face turned in a frown. Talk about a bucket of ice water dumped on my head.
The One That I Want (Scorned Women Society Book 3) Page 7