by A. L. Loire
People were filing in to the dining lodge, mostly older couples and families. Several caught her eye and exchanged pleasant smiles and greetings as she approached them. People must get friendlier the farther west they go, she thought. She already felt the impatience that was part of her daily New York existence waning away.
“Jess!” a familiar voice called. She tripped over her feet, then tried to recover herself. She saw Nate approach, the same bewitching, lazy smile on his face. “So glad you made it. You must be hungry after your trip.”
“I sure am. In fact, I—” She faltered. Another man was coming up behind Nate. He had dark hair and eyes, and a light shadow of stubble across his chiseled chin. He was, in a word, stunning.
A look of mild confusion crossed Nate’s face as he waited for her to continue. Then the dark-haired man clapped him on the shoulder. “This must be Jess!” he said, showing a row of perfectly straight teeth as he favored her with a picture-perfect smile.
Jess…there was something familiar about the way he said her name—something that sent a jolt straight through her. “There’s two of you?” she said, not quite sure she had meant to speak the thought out loud.
The dark-haired man blinked in surprise, while Nate looked amused. “Well, we like to think we’re not exactly the same person,” Nate said. “This here’s Spencer.”
“Of course,” Jess said hastily. “I’m sorry. I just meant—I didn’t realize—” That there were two equally stunning men in charge here, she wanted to say. “—that there were two people running the ranch,” she finished lamely.
“Perhaps it is a bit unusual,” Spencer said. “Most of these ranches are family run.”
She was grateful for Spencer for coming to her rescue—as well as for the change of topic. “That was my impression,” she said, nodding eagerly. “I’d love to hear more about how you got started here.” Then a thought dawned on her. Was it possible that the two of them were—?
“Spence and I have been buddies and colleagues for years now,” Nate said, as if reading her mind. “It’s kind of a long story, how our business partnership turned into this.”
She felt a wave of relief in spite of herself, then instantly felt a tinge of embarrassment. Why did she care about what these two studs were doing, anyway? She wasn’t here for romance, after all. That would be crazy.
“I’d love to hear the story,” she said. “I mean, if you care to tell it to me.”
“Of course,” Spencer said. “Why don’t you join us at our table? That way we can also introduce you to some of the other guests.”
“That would be lovely,” she said, but she was thinking, Don’t bother with those introductions. If she could stay in the company of these two handsome hunks all evening, so much the better. She felt a flutter in her abdomen as she followed them to their table.
At Nate and Spencer’s encouragement, she helped herself to food from the heaping platters that were being passed around. Barbequed ribs, mac and cheese, green salad, summer squash, pulled chicken—all of it smelled delicious. From the first bite, it tasted even better.
She felt Spencer’s gaze on her. She looked up and met his eye. He held her gaze for a second, riveting her with his deep brown eyes. She felt her insides knot up and the breath leave her.
Then she realized how rude she must seem, stuffing her face instead of making small talk. “I’m sorry—I promise I’m not usually this impolite,” she said. “This is all delicious. I think I was hungrier than I thought.”
“Don’t be sorry at all. I’m glad you’re enjoying the food,” he said, his eyes lingering on hers. He paused before adding, “And I appreciate a woman with a healthy appetite.”
She blushed. Could he be making fun of her? But his voice, and his look, seemed utterly sincere. She felt the silly, smitten smile that threatened to overtake her face and hastily picked up her wine glass and took a gulp. It was a crisp, cold pinot grigio—her favorite. It was like they knew she was coming.
She cleared her throat. “So tell me more about how you and Nate started this place,” she said, feeling a bit fortified by the wine.
“That is a very unlikely tale,” Spencer said. Where Nate’s grint was boyish and slightly reckless, Spencer’s was charming, like George Clooney’s. “Nate and I worked in finance together all throughout our twenties. We met when we were straight out of grad school working on Wall Street, as a matter of fact.”
“You worked in the city?” she cried, after she managed to swallow the bite she was chewing.
“Ah, yes, ‘the city,’” he said. “As New Yorkers will always refer to it—as if no other city existed.”
She laughed. He had a point. “Good catch. I’m not even from New York myself.”
“I am, as a matter of fact. Born and raised. Nate just came for the job. We met our first day there, and we’ve been friends ever since.”
This was all far from what Jess had expected. Spencer and Nate, the owners of Getaway Guest Resort, were former Wall Street financiers?
“So what brought about such a big change of lifestyle?” she asked.
Nate, who had been entertaining a chatty boy who was sitting with his family at the table next to theirs, caught the snippet of conversation and seemed eager to chime in. “Spencer had a breakdown. Went a little loony,” he said, pointing to his temple with his finger and turning it in a circle. Jess giggled.
Spencer scoffed. “If I ever have a breakdown, it’ll be because of you,” he said. He turned to Jess. “No, it was just the right moment for Nate and me to get out of the life. We had both been at it for too long, and it was wearing us down. When we had the chance to change our situation, we jumped at it.”
Hm… the right moment. What did that mean?
“Please have some more food,” Nate said before she could ask. He speared another quarter rack of ribs and put it on her plate. At the same time, Spencer refilled her wine glass. She felt her face flush—and she knew it wasn’t just the wine. “Thank you,” she said, trying to sound as casual as she possible.
She was grateful when Spencer and Nate’s attention was taken by an older couple who had sat down at the table next to theirs, seeking details about a day hike that was to happen the next day. She didn’t know why she felt so beside herself. She was practically dizzy. Maybe it was just the sheer handsomeness of these men that made their courteous attention seem like something more. After all, their conversation, and their gestures, had been nothing but polite. And yet, there did seem to be something in the way Spencer had looked at her…
“We have a campfire tonight,” Spencer said, breaking her thoughts. She hoped she had succeeded in keeping her face composed. “It’s a Friday night ritual. I hope you’ll join us, but I understand if you’re too tired and just want to rest.”
“Not at all!” she said. “Some fresh mountain air sounds like just what I need.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” he said, giving her the same cool smile, while his dark eyes boring into hers seemed to say something more.
I definitely need a cooldown, she thought as she stood and joined the flock of guests who were filtering into the crisp night air. Something seemed to be awakening inside of her, something strange but not altogether uncomfortable.
She followed the crowd to a campfire several yards away from the lodge, which two men were in the process of lighting. Around it were rows of logs that served as benches, and people immediately began making beelines for choice seats. It seemed like most of them had done this before.
She took a seat on a log next to a family of four. Nate stood by the fire. “Welcome to campfire night!” he bellowed. A cheer rose from the crowd. “And to those of you who are new here”—he caught Jess’s eye, making the breath seize in her throat—“welcome to Getaway Guest Ranch, your ultimate getaway from the stresses of the busy life.”
He continued: “For the young ones, we’ll be starting with some ghost stories, told to you by Billy, our resident ghost expert. Next we’ll be grilling
up s’mores, serving up our signature hot buttered bourbon for the older folks in the crowd, and ending with our favorite campfire songs. How does that sound?” he yelled. The guests cheered with enthusiasm. Everyone really seems to get into this, she thought.
Billy, an older gentleman with a lined face and a deep, resonating voice, took up the podium. He launched into a local legend about Old Joe Robinson, a man who had died while laying railroad tracks and was said to still haunt the surrounding mountains. All the kids—and a fair share of adults—leaned in with wide eyes, enraptured by the tale.
Jess’s mind drifted away to her little apartment back home, which she had subleased to a friend’s younger sister who was looking for a job in the city. The girl wasn’t far from Jess’s age, twenty-four, but still she reminded her of herself when she first arrived in the city—and that Jess seemed like someone much younger. So much had happened in the past year and a half, and a lot of it hadn’t been good. She thought involuntarily of Todd. A dark cloud came drifting over her mood, as it always did when he came marching into her mind like a storm looming on the horizon. She had dated Todd for almost a year while things had slid from good to bad to worse. The relationship had left her feeling broken, bereft of all confidence and self-worth. It had taken her months to feel anything close to normal, and she hadn’t so much as looked at another man in that time. She shivered in spite of the heat of the flames a few feet away.
“Enjoying yourself?” came Spencer’s voice at her side, wrenching her out of the pall that had drifted over her thoughts. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all!” she said. Her voice sounded squeaky. She winced, but he didn’t seem to notice. He settled down next to her at the log, close enough so that she could feel his body heat. She felt her heart speed up and her breath quicken. That thing that was being awakened in her seemed to have a lot to do with this man’s presence.
He handed her a steel mug. It contained something hot, steamy and fragrant. “Hot buttered bourbon,” he said. “Usually we don’t serve it until later, but I have the insiders’ connection.”
“Hey, thanks!” she said. She took a sip. The hot cocktail was spicy, buttery and delicious.
“You seem to be deep in thought,” he said after a moment. It wasn’t a question, just an observation.
“I guess I have a lot on my mind,” she responded. She looked down into her cup, inhaling the sweet but piquant steam. “It’s a good thing I’m here. I think I really need the time away.”
He nodded. “I know just what you mean. When I lived in the city, I sometimes felt this need to just…run. To where, I didn’t know. Just away, I suppose.” He seemed to be lost in memories for a moment. Then he spoke again. “Tell me, what do you do?”
“I work in fashion PR,” she said. “Well, worked.”
“Is that right?” he said. “You don’t really seem like the type.”
Instantly she was stung. He was obviously referring to her weight. “You just seem way too down-to-earth,” he continued.
A sense of relief coursed through her. “It was never exactly my dream job,” she admitted, feeling surprisingly eager to talk. “I just took it because it came along and paid the bills—at least, it barely paid the bills. It seemed glamorous too, at the time.”
“Not so much anymore, I take it,” he said. “Well, you’re far from glamour in these parts. I’ll tell you that much.”
She looked out at the fire, which was now surrounded by a bevy of kids jabbing sticks impaled with marshmallows into the flames while various parents and grandparents tried to keep them in check. She burst out laughing. “Thank god for that,” she said, and she meant it.
He smiled too, and their eyes met. Suddenly she felt woozy, like she was going to faint. She put a hand to her forehead.
“Whoa! Are you alright?” he asked, taking the cup from her and putting a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m fine,” she said faintly. “Just a bit of head rush…the wine…and the heat…”
“The bourbon probably isn’t helping,” he said. “Come on, let’s get you some air.”
He put an arm around her and helped her up, leading her several yards away from the campfire, where the air was free of smoke. Her head was still swimming, but she also dimly registered another sensation—the warm pleasure of his touch. She took a few deep breaths, her head slowly beginning to clear.
Spencer still had his arm around her waist. She opened her eyes. He was looking at her with deep concern. “Alright?” he asked softly. Suddenly she grew aware of the intimacy of his touch—and the fact that it felt better than any touch she could recall. For a moment, in the raw darkness of the Western night, everything else seemed to fall away.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. She attempted to smile. “I’m sorry to be such a damsel in distress.”
“Please don’t apologize,” he said. She felt her heart speed up when, for a wild moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Then he withdrew his arm from her waist. She instantly felt chilled. “What were you thinking about back there, before I came up?”
“Oh, nothing really. Nothing interesting, anyway,” she said, giving a nervous laugh. The sound of people singing “Home on the Range” wafted over from the campfire. His question had caught her off guard, and the intensity with which he was looking at her. There was something almost disconcertingly straightforward about him, from his dark good looks to the blunt way he spoke—as if there was a point to be gotten to, and he wanted to be the one to get to it.
“I don’t believe that,” he said.
“Well…,” she said hesitantly. “I was thinking about an ex, actually.” She paused. He was still looking at her, waiting for her to continue. “Someone I left behind in New York. I haven’t seen him for a few months, but I guess he’s still on my mind.”
“He broke your heart, didn’t he?” he said.
“I guess he did,” she said. “He did break my heart.”
“I’m sorry, Jess,” he said.
It must have been the wine, the heat—she wasn’t acting like herself. She felt drowsy. She wanted to lean into his body and sink, let everything else fall away. “I like the way you say my name,” she said softly—so softly, she wasn’t sure she had even said it out loud. From the way Spencer was looking at her, though, it seemed that she had.
“Jess,” he repeated, his voice low and husky. A ripple of desire flickered through her body. The distance between them was definitely growing smaller. “I like saying your name,” he whispered. He wrapped his arms around her waist again and before she knew what was happening, his full lips were on hers. He kissed her with a slow, languorous passion that sent her head spinning all over again.
The only other thing she was conscious of was the awareness that the thing inside her had fully awakened from a deep sleep. That thing was desire. For so long, she hadn’t felt desired by, or desire for, anyone at all. Now it was here, raging, screaming… She realized that she was kissing him back with intensity, urging him to speed up his tongue’s torturous caresses. She needed him urgently, needed to take him in and be taken in by him totally and completely.
Just as suddenly, his lips were no longer on hers and his hands were no longer hungrily caressing her body. She breathed in sharply, the air around now as cold and empty as outer space.
“I’m—I’m sorry, Jess,” he said, his voice fraught with confusion. He ran a hand through her hair, sending a shiver down her spine as his fingers scraped deliciously against her scalp. “I don’t know what got into me just there. Please forgive me.”
For a moment she was too stunned for any conscious thought to enter her mind, her knees still quivering—just like in her dream. Then she wanted to yell. Forgive you? FORGIVE you? For giving me the most body-melting kiss of my life and then taking it away, you cruel bastard?
Her heavy breathing finally slowed. “That’s okay,” she managed.
There was a brief silence as they stood a few feet away from each other, the charge of
their kiss still hanging between them. Jess tried to get through her mind what had just happened. Her now-awakened desire was throwing itself at his feet, banging its fists and kicking it feet.
“Let me walk you to your cabin,” he said finally. “Everyone’s cleared out, and it’s pretty dark. I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
It was only then that she noticed that the din of voices had stopped. She turned to the campsite. Everyone was gone, and where the roaring fire had been only a few red embers remained.
They started to walk. Neither spoke. Jess’s mind was racing, but it didn’t seem to have any real destination, like an unbroken horse galloping around a field. She glanced at Spencer. His handsome face, mostly invisible, also appeared to be deep in thought.
They reached her cabin and he put his arm around her, pulling her towards him. She felt the rush of heat and, with it, need. “I’m very attracted to you,” he said softly. “I think that’s plain.”
Her heart beat wildly. Could it really be true—could this unnaturally attractive man really be attracted to her? “Really?” she squeaked.
He laughed a low laugh. “Yes, Jess. Very.” He paused, weighing his words. “But I know you didn’t come here to have some guy hit on you. Not to mention, it certainly wouldn’t be proper, considering my role here.”
His words gave her pause. Of course he was right, on both counts. Still, though, couldn’t this just be some act that he pulled on all the women who showed up at Getaway—seducing them at the campfire and then trying to pull the nice guy act?
Part of her felt the stirrings of doubt, the other half of her wanted nothing more than to pull Spencer close to her and kiss him with as much unbridled passion as she had in her, to let out all desire that had been steadily mounting over the past months.