Now the glue seemed to be coming apart. Whisperings, odd glances, and cryptic comments. The platonic dynamic had changed.
Could men and women be just friends? The women at the office and even Rhonda always reminded her that it was impossible to remain friends without something happening. She dismissed their theories. She, Sean, and Patrick had this platonic thing down. They could be friends and not have any hanky-panky happen.
Or could they?
Did Patrick and Sean see her differently now? Maybe they considered her more than a BFF and co-worker?
“Oh brother.” She let out an exasperated groan. Burying her head in her hands, she realized the hypocrisy in her thinking. She’d thought of them in a less than a “friendly” manner lately. Masturbating like a porn star for the last couple of days wasn’t exactly spiritual thinking. She read those stories and not only thought only of Sean and Patrick, but jacked off with a vibrator pretending they were doing it. That was pathetic.
She put her suitcase by the bedroom door. Hopefully this trip would be a blessing in disguise. Being isolated from any outside interference could put their relationship back on track. Her biggest fear looked like it was coming to pass—and they hadn’t even done anything.
Chapter Seven
The drive to The Rockies was long but entertaining. Sandra and the guys sang along to the all disco channel, though none of them could carry a note. They made few stops. One, to a motel for an overnight rest.
She was glad they drove, instead of flying, for several reasons. For starters, they had some serious luggage. Well, she did. Also, everyone wanted to see the sights. And what beautiful sights! God’s Land. Several of their stops were at scenic outlooks and other photo ops.
They made one last stop before their destination. They pulled into the parking lot of the local drugstore for fattening snacks, batteries for the handheld radio, and some newspapers.
When they arrived at their destination, Sandra peered out the window, searching for a little cabin. She saw only a large, two-story log home.
Tall stained-glass windows, exotic, hand-carved wood doors and a wraparound porch met her surprised gaze. The bushes in front desperately needed cutting. Fancy, imported plants, likely not indigenous to the area. “Plants look a bit—dead,” she commented. So the place hadn’t been tended to for a while.
“There must be some mistake. This isn’t the little cabin, is it?” Patrick asked looking around.
Sean pulled out his directions and the address. “According to this, it’s right. Hang on a sec. Let me call good ol’ Uncle Travis.”
Patrick turned to face Sandra sitting in the back seat. “So, are you ready for adventure?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“That depends on what you have in mind. I told you, I plan to get my skiing on.”
“That could be fun, too.”
“Uh huh…I see. Okay thanks. Will do.” Sean disconnected his cell. “Well, gang, this is Uncle Travis’s place. He runs it, or use to run it, I should say. But he’s had it closed for the past two seasons.”
“What?” Sandra said.
“Uncle Travis strikes again. That’s what you get for not checking up on all his businesses,” Patrick said.
“The less we know about his shenanigans, the better. He doesn’t want the place, too much trouble. However, if I want it, I can have it and run it.” Sean unfastened his seatbelt.
“You’re a bodybuilder and trainer, not a bed and breakfast host, Martha Stewart.” Patrick smirked.
“Now, wait a minute. Let’s look things over.” Sean got out then reached back in the car and smacked Patrick upside the head.
“Ow!”
“You’re not serious?” Sandra laughed and stepped out as well.
“Come on, guys. If anything, once we fix it up, I’ll obtain the deed, then I can turn around and sell it.” Sean retrieved the bags and gear out of the trunk.
Patrick shrugged and helped him with the luggage. Sandra shook her head.
Inside, she was immediately overwhelmed by the size of the cabin. Sean and Patrick dropped all the bags on the floor.
“My goodness,” Sandra dropped her purse. “This place is ginormous! Check out the wood beam ceilings.”
“Beautiful.” Sean leaned his head back and turned in a slow circle.
“Dude, check out the fireplace.” Patrick ran over to it.
“You can roast a bison in that,” Sandra laughed.
“But, I can see why my uncle is letting it go.” Sean ran a hand over the dust encrusted mantel. “It’s going to take a lot of work.”
“We can worry about that tomorrow. Let’s find the bedrooms and see who gets which one. I’m ready to crash.” Patrick yawned.
“No brainer. I get the biggest one.” She grabbed her makeup bag and ran upstairs.
“Now how does that work?” Patrick climbed the stairs behind her.
“I’m a woman.”
“Whatever.”
“Hey! Are the utilities on?” Sandra leaned over the balcony railing. She grabbed onto it as vertigo hit her. The place was a castle, and her voice echoed through the foyer.
“Yeah, that’s what Travis told me,” Sean yelled back. “He had them switched on a couple of days ago, and the refrigerator and pantry are stocked.”
“Great, I’m taking a nice hot bath.”
Sandra walked slowly down the hallway. Careful not to overlook any nook or cranny, she noticed closets lining the walls and a few dusty pictures. Finally, she came to the first door. She opened it and entered the room. What a pleasant surprise.
“Hey, you guys, you should see my room!”
“I’m standing right behind you, dear,” Patrick purred in her ear.
“Yikes! You scared me.” She headed toward the open doorway to the bath. “Look at this layout.”
“Look at the size of that bed,” Patrick pointed out.
“This must be the room for the caretakers or Travis and his wife,” Sandra said from the bathroom. “You should see it in here, too. It’s sort of dated, but it has marble and gold swan fixtures!”
He peeked in and whistled low. “Well, since you claim-jumped this room, I’ll go look for mine.”
“Where’s Sean?”
“He’s still downstairs.” He stroked her face with the back of his hand.
“Patrick.” She brushed it aside, caught off guard.
He winked. “Unpack and relax.”
Sandra watched him go. Relax? Who was he kidding?
She’d thought the place would be a distraction and help put their friendship back on track. But instead, she realized how difficult the three weeks would be alone with those two. Probably a dilemma a lot of women wouldn’t mind having. Which reminded her…. She dug her cell phone out of her purse.
The phone rang three times before Rhonda answered. “Hey, girl. How’s the cabin?” Killer’s playful yaps echoed in the background.
“Great, but it’s not a cabin. It’s a full-blown lodge, a bed and breakfast to be exact.”
“Really? Cool. So what are you guys going to do up there, all alone, in that big house?” The implication hung in her voice.
“I don’t know what Sean and Patrick are going to do, but I’m about to take a bath and go to bed.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes! Rhonda, really!”
“You need to get your freak on. I would if I were you.”
“You are so ghetto,” Sandra muttered, exasperated.
“Hey, keeping it real. You are waaaay up there in no man’s land—”
“We’re in The Rockies. People are all over the place.”
“The cabins are far apart, right? Lots of space in between.”
Sandra sat on the edge of the bed. She would humor her friend for one more minute. “What are you saying?”
“You three can do all kinds of stuff, and no one would hear you. It’s perfect. It’s like that article in Just for Women, with that lady and her farmhands.”
Minute’
s up. “I’m going to go run my bath now and maybe have a bite to eat before I go to bed…alone.”
“Don’t have to be alone,” Rhonda sing-songed.
“Bye.” She disconnected, shaking her head.
Heading for the bath, she played the conversation over in her head.
They were up there all alone. The lodge was way off the beaten track. Its location, tucked away, facing a beautiful pond and majestic mountains, offered optimum privacy. Sandra rushed over to the bedroom door, shut and locked it. She didn’t know who she didn’t trust, the guys or herself.
***
“Where is she?” Sean asked, as Patrick came down the stairs.
“Talking a bath and getting ready for bed.”
“Care to hear my plan?”
“I’m all ears.”
“Have a seat on the couch. I started a fire to chase away the chill.” The flames were low, but inching higher.
Patrick sat by the fire. Sean occupied the opposite end. “We have to keep her from going to bed so early. We only have three weeks. So when she comes to say good night, we’ll sit here by the fireplace and hand her the magazine. One of the stories on the front cover is the ménage à trois. We’ll decide which one of us will make a casual comment, and we’ll let the conversation flow from there.”
“I love your plan so far.” Patrick’s voice held heavy sarcasm.
“What do you mean?”
“You really think she’s gonna sit here and chew the fat about threesomes? Haven’t you noticed the tension between all of us these past few weeks?”
“All the more reason to break the ice.”
Patrick hung his head. “I have to trust you on this, ’cause I don’t have a better plan.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Sorry, I’m so frustrated right now.”
Sean went over and patted him on the back. “I understand. But I told you last Valentine’s Day to say something to her.”
“It didn’t feel right at the time. Were you ready to say something to her?”
“No. I guess you’re right. But I think this vacation is right. It feels right.”
Sandra interrupted the discussion by coming down the stairs wrapped in a pink terry cloth robe. She even looked delicious in that.
“Hey, is there any place to order food? I don’t feel like cooking. I want something to nibble on before I go to bed.”
Sean buried his head in his hands. “Go back upstairs; we’ll take care of it.”
“Sure you don’t want to change game plans?” Patrick smirked.
Chapter Eight
Sandra joined the guys by the fire. They’d ordered cheap Chinese food from a local restaurant that offered speedy delivery.
“So what’s first on the agenda?” She opened up one of her food cartons.
Sean twirled his chopsticks in his lo mein noodles. “Agenda? As far as what?”
“Well, do you like the house?”
“We just set foot in this place, honey,” Patrick popped a shrimp into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Besides, while you were upstairs, we took a quick tour. It’s huge.”
“And it needs a lot of TLC,” Sean snorted.
“Really? Anything major?” Sandra scanned the room as she continued eating.
“Yeah. This fireplace is the only working one—out of eight.”
“Nope, the one in my bedroom works.” She grinned at them.
“Ooh weee,” Patrick said.
Sandra slapped him playfully on the arm. He countered that with a kiss on the cheek.
“So this lodge needs a lot fixing up. We’ll hire some contractors, ask for an estimate, they do the work—” She could see the results in her mind’s eye.
“Whoa, whoa! Let’s talk about the kitchen.” Sean pointed behind him.
“Let’s not talk about this for now,” Patrick broke in. “We have three weeks. That’s plenty of time to decide what to do with this white elephant.”
“He’s right.” She rubbed a reassuring hand on Sean’s shoulder.
“Let’s talk about the fun we’re going to have. Three weeks of doing nothing.” Patrick leaned back, stretching.
“Speak for yourself. I’m hitting the slopes, remember?”
“Besides that.” Patrick leaned over, and reached into one of the bags from the drugstore. “We need to put these batteries somewhere, before we misplace them. And here is your Snickers.” He tossed it to her.
“Mmm, dessert.”
Sean laughed. “Hand me the paper.”
“Here you go. And I didn’t forget reading material for you, lady.” Patrick pulled out a Just for Women and handed it to her. “Here’s your favorite magazine.”
“Thanks…I….” She was stunned.
“What’s wrong? That is the magazine you subscribe to, isn’t it?” Patrick looked confused.
“Yeah, it’s just that…I already have this issue.” She tucked it under her arm. “That’s okay. I appreciate the gesture.” She put her empty containers aside and stood. “I think I’m ready for bed now. Good night.”
“Wait a minute.” Patrick grabbed the arm that held the magazine.
“What?”
“I happened to catch this one headline ‘Ménage à Trois. How taboo are they?’”
“Oh that.” Sandra switched the magazine to the other arm, out of eyeshot.
“Did you read it? I bet it’s eye opening.” Sean bent closer, squinting at the folded pages.
“Umm…. Yeah, I read it.”
“And?” Patrick folded his arms over his chest.
“It wasn’t all that.”
“Excuse me?” Sean’s brow shot up. “I can’t believe that reading about threesomes is not ‘all that.’”
Sandra shrugged. “I really wasn’t interested in the article. It bored me.”
Now the men both had their arms folded over their chests, staring at her.
“What?”
“Oh, come on, Sandy.” Sean moved closer to her. “You’ve never thought about two men? Even fantasizing?”
“What makes you think I have fantasies?” Sandra folded her arms over her chest.
Sean made an incredulous face.
“Okay, I admit it. I fantasize as much as the next person. But not about that.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said. “Every woman does at some point.”
She stared at him. “Why such sudden interest in the ménage article anyway?”
“You brought it up, talking about the women in your office,” Patrick sat on the chair nearest the fireplace.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Actually, I find the feature about where to buy Jimmy Choos at seventy percent off more interesting.”
Sandra ran upstairs, closed the door to her bedroom, and locked it. She leaned against it for a minute, wringing her hands, half-expecting the guys to try to burst in. But that was silly.
“They’re probably not even thinking about those stories now,” Sandra murmured. “No guy is that interested in a woman’s magazine.” She blew out a breath and threw the troublesome thing on the bed. She needed to sleep. Full of food now, she should have no trouble getting some shuteye.
Shivering in the freezing cold, she moved to stoke the fire. Soon satisfied with the height of the flames, she headed for bed.
Three whole weeks alone with Sean and Patrick. She needed to rethink the whole setup. Not good at all, no matter how she looked at it.
The only saving grace was that this place needed major renovations, so they would occupy themselves with that. Nothing to break sexual tension like a hammer in your hand.
She wiggled between the sheets and blankets. First thing in the morning, she would mention all the work the cabin might need. Then she would go skiing.
She would see how long she could keep that up.
***
“That conversation really flowed,” Patrick quipped.
“Don’t rub it in, Mr. Cynic.”
“Got a plan B?”
“I agree. I don’t want to scare her so she clams up. Or worse yet….” He let the sentence fall away.
“I feel you, trust me. We have three weeks here, uninterrupted by the outside world. By the end of this vacation, we’ll know for sure.”
***
Early the next morning, Sandra came running down the stairs with ski boots in hand, ready for the day. But first she had to make a pit stop. Breakfast smelled good.
“Mmm, don’t tell me you guys cooked again.” She stopped in the kitchen doorway in amazement. A chef’s dream. “Whoa, this is so cool. You can cook anything in here. I forgot to even peek last night, I was so tired.”
“This is more than what the average homeowner needs. I betcha Travis had a staff.” Sean set one of the tables in the eating area.
“I bet this dining room can seat forty, fifty, maybe sixty people, easily.” Sandra put her boots down and settled at the table. Sean set a plate of food in front of her. “This is the second fattening meal in as many weeks.” Sandra kissed him on the cheek and reached for her fork.
“You’re going to work it off today, Snow Bunny,” Patrick remarked from behind her.
She spit out her juice. “Why do you always sneak up on me?” Grabbing a napkin, she wiped the table.
“Sorry,” Patrick dropped into the seat beside her. “So, you’re going to hit the slopes?”
“Fresh powder fell overnight. Yes!” Sandra fist-bumped him. “My skis are waxed, and I am ready. Why don’t you guys join me? I can show you some moves, or maybe you can go on the bunny slopes and have a real trainer teach you.”
Sean and Patrick gaped.
“Or maybe not.” Sandra smiled sheepishly and continued eating.
“Patrick might be able to go with you and at least watch. I have to stay here.” Sean joined them at the table with two full plates. He set one in front of his friend, who immediately started chowing down. “I have a contractor coming by to assess how much it’s going to cost to bring this little cabin up to snuff.”
Cabin Fever Page 4