Because his lame cover was blown, he went and found a stylist to cut the highlights out of his hair. It was nice having it short and normal-looking again. He wondered if Trin liked it short or long then cussed himself for caring what she’d think.
His run Friday morning was on the chilly side. He didn’t wear gloves and after an eighteen miler, his fingers were numb and stiff. He plodded up the steps to the bed and breakfast, relieved to be back. Maybe he’d let himself eat one of those breakfasts that he could smell every morning. Moriah was definitely a good cook, if his nose was any indicator. This food wasn’t on his training diet, but sometimes he wondered why he cared so much. Trin was right in a way. He was competing in elite athletic events, but who cared what his time or finishing place was. He wasn’t winning the Olympics or racing to raise awareness for some social issue. He didn’t need to run for a charity, his dad gave huge sums to different charities every year.
He was participating only for himself. Yet, he could easily justify that he needed his exercise schedule to keep strong and build himself physically and emotionally after years of drenching his sorrows in vodka and weed. Luckily, he’d never gotten into anything stronger than that. Sometimes he missed mixing alcohol and marijuana and being “twisted”. It would be nice to not deal with issues. He shook his head. No. He couldn’t let himself even think about those sensations.
The etched glass door to the bed and breakfast eased open a few inches. Zander felt like the house was welcoming him in, like an old friend who’d been watching and waiting for him. He shook his head. That was crazy thinking. It was simply someone coming out the door with their hands full.
Zander caught the door and pulled it all the way open. Trin was there, struggling with several bags of garbage. She looked gorgeous with her deep red hair pulled into a ponytail, the smooth lines of her neck revealed. Dressed in a teal t-shirt and yoga pants, he couldn’t help but admire her lean shape.
“Oh, hey,” she said, a bit breathlessly. Was it from hauling the garbage or seeing him? Probably hauling the garbage, she obviously didn’t like him.
“Hey.”
“How was your run?”
“Cold, thank you.”
She gave him a brief smile. Before he could stop himself, Zander stole two of the garbage sacks from her.
“Oh, I’ve got those,” she protested.
“It’s no problem.” He gestured for her to go in front of him. She led the way down the stairs and around the side of the house to the dumpsters. “Are you helping Moriah clean today?”
“Turk and her mom both have the flu so I told her to take the day off.”
“Oh.”
Things were so stiff between them. He didn’t know how to make it better or honestly if he even wanted to. She still owed him a pretty big apology. They reached the dumpster and he lifted the lid, waited for her to throw in her sack, then tossed his in.
“Thanks,” Trin muttered. She turned to face him, folded her arms across her chest, and sighed. “I’m sorry, okay,” she flung out.
“Are you really sorry or do you just want me to not fire you?”
Her eyes flashed at him, the dark depths sparking and he could sense she wanted to tell him off again. It made him laugh. The laughter just bubbled out of him and he could see her shoulders relax and then she started laughing too. The laughter felt so good after the coldness and frustration of the last few days. He was reminded quickly of why he’d enjoyed being around her so much.
She finally sobered and bit at her lip. Man, that was a sexy move. Her lips had been in his daydreams as he ran and rode for miles, even though he wasn’t happy with her.
“Is a little of both an acceptable answer?” she asked.
“Maybe.” He glanced away from her beautiful face and muttered, “I’ve never had anybody tell me that what I was doing wasn’t good enough. It ticked me off.” He focused back on her and surprise was the only way he could think to describe her face now.
“Surely you’ve had other people in your life who think you aren’t living up to your potential.”
He shook his head. “Well, our cook, Hannah, would cuss me sometimes if I said a swear word or gave teenage attitude, but my parents … I was an only child and they always treated me like gold. Then after my mom died.” He stopped. Had he really just brought his mom up? He rarely did that and this was twice around Trin. He cleared his throat and continued, “I’ve never gotten close enough to anyone to have them be so honest with me.” Even when he had gone through addiction recovery, the high-dollar facility was all about positive reinforcement and nobody had ever told him he was a waste of space like he assumed Trin wanted to tell him.
“Wow.” She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry you don’t have anyone close and …” She dipped her head. “And about your mom. You’ve gone through hard things, my friend.”
Zander’s entire body warmed at those words, my friend. He hadn’t had a real friend in … he couldn’t even remember how long. “Are we?”
“What?” She cocked her head to the side and her long, silky-looking hair caressed her shoulder. Zander wanted to run his fingers over her hair and her shoulder. He wasn’t sure which first.
“Friends?” He asked softly.
Trin studied him. “You’re lonely.”
Zander took a step back. “Whoa.”
“Sorry.” She heaved a deep breath. “I really am sorry. That’s not my place.”
She was right it wasn’t her place, but she was more right that he was lonely. Very. He’d distanced himself from everyone, even his father. He was a loner in every sense of the word and honestly, it was about as much fun as working to stay sober. No wonder being around Trin and Moriah, smiling and laughing, had been the happiest he’d been in a long time.
“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “If we’re going to be friends I guess you can say things like that.”
She smiled and he had never been so drawn to a woman. How could a smile be that irresistible and just downright adorable? He smiled. Not sure if the word adorable had earned a spot in his vocabulary before today.
“Friends?” She stuck her hand out.
“Friends.” Zander grasped her much smaller hand and shook it.
“I’ll catch you later, friend.” Trin winked and his heart rate increased. “I’d better get back in there and make sure nobody’s needing anything else for breakfast. It’s going to be a long day without Moriah. Luckily no one is checking out, so there’s just the light cleaning.”
“I’ll help you.” The words were out before he could stop them, but he realized he didn’t want to take them back. He could learn a lot from spending the day working with her. The thought of spending an entire day getting to know her better didn’t hurt either.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I’m supposed to be doing this Undercover Boss thing and that’s obviously failed with my lame disguise.” He pointed to his short, dark hair. “If I help you do your work today then I’ll have more to report to my dad.”
“Let me get this straight. The ultra-wealthy, ultra-handsome, ultra-athlete wants to do dishes, freshen up towels, and wipe up toothpaste spills?”
“You think I’m ultra-handsome?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” She blushed and started to walk away.
Zander caught up to her. “I’ll try not to.”
She laughed.
“So, what’s on the schedule first?”
“I can’t get you dirty.”
“I just got back from an eighteen-mile run. I don’t think a little dirt is going to hurt this sweaty body.”
“Wow. Eighteen miles. I can’t go that far in my car without stopping for a Coke.”
He chuckled. “You’re in better shape than you think. I bet you could keep up.”
“With you? Not a chance.”
Zander tamped down the surge of pride her answer gave him. She realized what an elite athlete he was, even if she thought it was a lame career for an adult.
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They reached the steps and ascended to the front porch. “You really want to help?” she asked, still sounding doubtful about his ability to work.
“Yes, please.” He’d never done a day of labor in his life. As a child, he’d help out around the house and his parents thought it was so cute when they caught him working with the gardener, Mr. Tyler, or in the kitchen with Hannah, who was more like a beloved aunt than an employee, but it was really all for fun. Wiping up toothpaste? Definitely not. But it couldn’t be any harder than running a marathon.
“Don’t you need to eat something first? Refuel from your run?”
“Yeah, I probably should. I drank a Reliv 24K when I finished, but some real food always helps.”
“I don’t even know what language you were speaking on the twenty-four thing, but you eat then you can come help me in the kitchen if you’re really sure that’s what you want to do.”
“Sounds good.” He wanted to be with her. Even though she was probably too honest with him. He liked her and the way she made him smile. If that meant unfamiliar manual labor. Bring it on.
* * *
Trin watched Zander fill his plate and joke around with the Thompsons, one of the honeymooning couples, as he started to eat. It was ten o’clock, but she wanted to leave the food a little longer in case Zander wanted seconds. He’d just run eighteen miles? Insanity. He pushed himself physically yet he openly admitted that he’d never been put in his place and she highly doubted he knew what manual labor even was. After they finished with the kitchen and cleaning rooms, she would have him go out on the grounds with her and trim some dogwood bushes that were getting out of control by the back fence. Hopefully there were a few weeds in the garden to pull as well. This was going to be fun.
She loaded the dishwasher and then went back out to the dining room to start clearing the food. Zander saw her and jumped to his feet. The Thompsons had finished and disappeared. He stacked the plates on the table into a pile and followed her back through the swinging door. They worked in near silence, except for him asking occasionally where she wanted something put as they cleared the dining room and wiped it down then he finished loading the dishwasher while she put food in containers.
“This thing is full,” Zander said. He tried to push it closed, but he’d stacked the bottom rack too high and one of the pans hit into the top rack.
Trin smiled and pulled the pan out, setting it in the sink. “Let’s run this load then we’ll do another load later with the bigger pans.”
“Okay. So we’re done in here?”
Trin nodded, putting detergent in and starting the dishwasher. “You’re doing pretty good so far, Mr. Bachelor.”
Zander groaned. “Please don’t say you watched that show.”
“I think every single woman in America watched that show.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment to me or not. Did you watch it because I was so good-looking you couldn’t pull your eyes away or so pathetic you wanted to fix me? Because I swear every woman on there wanted to fix me.”
“I thought you said I was the first person to ever call you out.”
Zander leaned against the counter and Trin had to wonder if a man leaning like that had ever affected her so strongly. He just had the leaning thing down. “In that way, yes you were. You should feel special.”
She blushed. For some reason she felt very special with him looking at her like that.
Zander smiled at her then he looked down and continued, “The women wanted to help me get over my mother’s death, and I’m sure they wanted to help me stop being a drunk. But they never called me out, it was always this super sweet, if you love me I can cure all your ills type of thing.”
“But none of them were worthy of your love?”
He shifted his weight. “It wasn’t them. Despite what the show encourages, there were some really nice girls. I just wasn’t in a great place, probably the lowest time of my life. It was shortly after that I admitted myself to Tranquility Woods and started my recovery. Embarrassing to think I was on national television high or wasted most of the time.”
Trin appreciated that he would share this with her, especially after how she’d treated him. “You did a pretty good job of covering it up. I wouldn’t have thought you were drunk.”
“That’s good to know. Probably more the producers did a good job of covering it up. It makes me wonder though …”
“What’s that?”
“All those women, some of them were such harpies.”
“Scarlett O’Hara?” Trin smiled.
“Exactly. Scary Scarlett. But a lot of them were nice girls and I couldn’t understand. Did they just want to win for the sake of winning? Why would they compete for someone like me? Who would want to saddle themselves with an addict, no matter how wealthy he was.”
Trin thought he was selling himself short. He may have been an addict, but he had treated the women on the show really well and he wasn’t just insanely wealthy he was insanely handsome. It was a hard combination for a lot of women to resist. “For somebody who’s never heard a negative word in his life, you’re awfully down on yourself,” she tried to joke to lighten the mood.
He shrugged. “Just being truthful. I look back at myself then and I wouldn’t want to be around me.”
“You went through some tough times, but it looks like you’ve come out stronger on the other side.”
“You’d like to think so.” He pushed away from the counter. “We’ve got work to do. What next?”
She smiled. “You’re a gungho worker, now?”
“Hey. One day in a lifetime, should be fun, right?”
Trin thought she shouldn’t comment on that one. She led the way to the laundry room. The cleaning cart was already stacked with fresh linens and supplies. She’d done this most days of the week for she couldn’t remember how long. The novelty of cleaning rooms back when she’d followed her nana around had definitely worn off, but there was still satisfaction in a job well done and their guests were usually respectful and didn’t leave disgusting messes, thank heavens.
Zander took the cart and pushed it to the elevator that had been installed in a renovation before Trin’s time, in the spot where the dumb waiter used to be off the kitchen. It was a little awkward when a guest needed the elevator, as they had to bring them through the kitchen, but it met code, and wasn’t used often for guests as there were four guest suites on the main level past Trin’s office, so anyone who needed accommodations without stairs was booked into one of those rooms.
They rode up to the second floor then started, ironically, with his room, which was at the far end of the hall.
“This is a little awkward, you coming into my room like this,” Zander said. “We’re just friends, remember, no pushing things to the next level.”
“Oh, don’t you wish.”
“You have no idea.”
Trin laughed and had to look away from the smolder in his blue eyes.
He’d already made his bed so they didn’t have to do anything there. “I’m impressed the rich boy made his bed.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, girl.” He imitated Moriah’s nickname.
“I’m seeing that.” His room had been in good condition every time she’d cleaned it instead of Moriah.
She showed him how to switch out towels, breathing deeply of the rich cologne that she’d come to identify him with. She saw a yellow bottle on the counter that read, Acqua di Parma. “Is that the cologne you wear?”
“Yeah.”
“I like it.” She more than liked it, she would inhale it all day if she could, especially if he was wearing it.
“Thanks. I should have some on right now. I hope I don’t stink like sweat.”
“You don’t. You kind of smell … salty.”
He pumped his eyebrows. “I taste salty too.”
Oh, my. She did not need to be thinking about how he tasted as she stood in his bathroom and smelled his cologne and felt c
ompletely surrounded by his presence. “Um, do you want more shampoo, conditioner, or lotion?”
“No, thanks. I have my own shampoo and I don’t use conditioner or lotion.”
“Gotcha.” Snapping gloves on, she grabbed his garbage liner out and replaced it with a new one, tossing it into the trash on the cart. She sprayed the counter and wiped it quickly with a paper towel.
“I thought I was supposed to be doing this,” he protested.
“Watch and learn. I’ll let you take Mr. and Mrs. Gunnell’s room. One of them smears toothpaste all over the place.”
“Okay. I’ll be ready.” He smirked and did that stinking leaning thing, this time against the wall as she tried to concentrate on wiping his counter clean.
Glancing around the room, she took one more deep breath of his cologne and gestured to the door. “I think we’re good here.”
“Looks great.” He followed her out of the room with the cart.
The other rooms went quickly and she only teased him a little bit when he couldn’t figure out how to squirt the spray bottle that was turned to off and didn’t know that he needed to knot the garbage liners to make sure they stayed properly in place. Otherwise the liner would collapse into the small garbage cans and she’d be fishing someone’s disgusting garbage out later.
As they exited the last room, she turned to him. “Thanks for your help. It was fun.”
“It was. Anything else you need help with?”
She studied him. Did he really want to keep working with her? She liked being around him. Could it be possible he was feeling the same? “I have a few things I was going to do on the grounds then mostly just paperwork this afternoon.”
“Why don’t I help you on the grounds then grab a shower. After that, would you mind showing me the profit and loss statements?”
“So you do know a little bit about running a business?”
“Hey, I graduated from NYU in business. Just because I did it with a lot of help from Jack Daniels doesn’t mean I didn’t learn anything.”
“I’ll take your word for that.”
They reentered the elevator. “You’re really open about your alcohol addiction.”
The Faithful One: Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Page 6