Accidental Lover (Wolven Moon Book 3)

by Dany Rae Miller

  “To ask you to please put Cherie’s room and her mom’s room when she arrives on my charges.” Gabby holds her head in her hands. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I asked Cherie to arrive early and help me finalize wedding details. She can barely afford one night here.”

  “It’s already taken care of. Since she’s a new employee, or will be, I’m charging her accommodations to HR.”

  “You can do that?” Gabby wrinkles her nose.

  “I own the damn place. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

  “You rich kids sure are spoiled rotten.” Cherie laughs at us from the doorway.

  Even though she’s flushed, has pit stains and hair sweat-soaked to her head, she’s the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

  “Good morning, sweetness.” I smile at my girl. “Looks like you had a vigorous run.”

  Gabby’s eyeballs get huge. “Sweetness?!” Her jaw drops as she sits upright in the chair, looks between me and Cherie.

  Aw, fuck.

  Cherie sighs, looks up at the ceiling and then at me. She’s upset.

  It was an honest slip, mi ninfa.

  “Mr. Santana. I just want to let you know that I emailed CU this morning requesting that they fax my transcripts as soon as possible. So, if you can keep an eye out for them.”

  “I will do that. Thank you, Cherie. Listen. Can you jot down your phone number?” I hand her a pen and a sticky pad. “Your cell, please.”

  She narrows her eyes at me for a moment. Then, she takes the pad, writes down her number and hands it back.

  “Thank you.” I try to sound contrite.

  It doesn’t work. Cherie turns away from me. “Gabs, what time is the menu tasting again?”

  “Eleven. Don’t you two blow me off. What’s the hell is this ‘sweetness’, thing?” Gabby says. “What aren’t you two telling me?” My cousin sounds upset. What happened to team Vic?

  “I really need to shower. I stink.” With that Cherie hurries away leaving me to face my cousin by myself. I turn to her.

  “You’re still team Vic?”

  She nods. “Of course.”

  “Then, back off, forget you heard that.”

  “Uh, huh. Sure. Like that’s gonna happen.” Gabby glances up at me for a moment. Is that resignation in her face? All at once, she jumps up to do a little dance in place and squeal.

  I chuckle, not capable of hiding my happiness even if it confirms Gabby’s suspicions.

  “That is some fast work. You are the man, Victor Santana.” She high tens me.

  “A lucky man. Excuse me. I’ve got business to take care of.”

  “I just bet you do.” Gabby smiles. She claps and stamps her feet, again.

  I wink at her. Grabbing a calla lily out of my mini-fridge, I hightail it after Cherie. If she’s showering, I wanna be there.

  chapter eighteen

  VICTOR AND HIS damn loose lips. That’s not how I wanted my best friend to find out about us.

  I take off my workout clothes. I brought a little bottle of liquid detergent from home. It’s quicker and so much more cheaper to hand wash them in the sink after a run than send them out to be laundered each time.

  I wring out my clothes, drape them over the rod and step into the shower.

  The truth, I’ll tell Gabs the truth. I gave my virginity to her cousin. I’ll just leave out the embarrassing part about Victor being a complete stranger when it happened.

  And Jesse. I close my eyes, knowing I have to tell him, too, and dreading it. He’s going to be so jealous and angry.

  All washed, I let the hot water beat on my shoulders and down my back for a few blissful minutes. Getting out, I wrap my hair in a towel and my body in another, and walk into the bedroom — to Victor, lounging in a chair in my room and holding a calla lily.

  He just smiles. “For you, peaches.”

  I tilt my head. “Why?”

  “Just because you love them.”

  I wished he stop with the romance stuff.

  “Are you super pissed at me or just mildly pissed at me?” He asks.

  “Do I get more flowers if I’m super pissed?” I put my finger to my lips as though I’m thinking.

  He grins. “If you work it right.”

  Pumping lotion into my hand, I lift a leg onto a chair to apply it. Victor growls lightly, eyes following my hands before straying to my butt.

  “Cherie, I’m sorry I called you sweetness in front of Gabby. I was just so glad to see that you were okay, it just slipped out.”

  I open my mouth to respond. He holds up a hand to keep me from talking. So, I just lotion the other leg.

  “After you get done yelling at me for that, I want to discuss you leaving this morning without waking me. I didn’t know where you were and I was worried, hence the happy to see you part of the situation.”

  “I’m not going to yell at you, Victor. Gabs is my best friend. I would have told her sooner or later anyway. Just not about the way we met.” I pause in rubbing lotion onto my leg. “Can we keep that between us? Forever?”

  He nods. “Absolutely. I know how you feel about it. That fantasy is my private memory to cherish. It’s no one’s business anyway.”

  I study his eyes to see if he’s serious. Looks like he is. Pumping more lotion in my hands, I do my arms.

  Victor creases his brows. “This is the sexiest semi-argument I’ve ever had. Can you put on lotion every time you want to punish me?”

  I unwrap the wet towel from my head and throw it at him, hitting his chest.

  He laughs and raises his chin at my body. “You should throw that other towel at me, too. I deserve to be severely punished.”

  “You’re so damn crazy.” I laugh out loud. It’s impossible to stay mad at him when he flashes those sexy eye creases.

  Victor bounds out of the chair and has me in his grasp in a split second. He gives me the lily and tangles his hands in my wet hair, tilts my head back making me look at him.

  “For you, mi ninfa. I am so damn crazy for you.” He kisses me deep and long, sighing when we come up for air.

  He pumps some lotion from the bottle. “You missed a lot of your creamy skin.” Distributing the lotion to both his hands, he slides them under the towel and rubs my rear — pulling me tight to the bulge in his pants, kissing my neck and shoulders.

  Enjoying his touch, I gurgle.

  “Mmmm, peaches.” He grinds against me. “Can I give you the total rub down right fucking now?” He crushes my mouth, his tongue hard and demanding.

  There’s a knock at my door.

  “Victor,” I whisper.

  “Ignore it,” he whispers back.

  I smile and shake my head no.

  “Can you go to your room?” I whisper.

  “Are we still hiding us?” He asks softly, kissing behind my ear.

  “Yes. I want to. It’s important to me, if I’m going to be working here.”

  Tick in his jaw, he pulls away, scratches his head. “Alright. I’ll go for now. More on this later, though, while I moisturize the rest of your hot little body.” He winks.

  Grinning, I shake my head at his pun.

  There’s another knock.

  “C.” It’s Gabs. “I know you’re in there. I hear voices.”

  With a frown, he reluctantly goes through the connecting door and closes it behind him.

  I open the main door. She looks at the towel wrapped around me and my wet hair.

  “Nice flower,” she says, smirking. “Who were you talking to?”

  “Never mind that. Come in.” I swing the door all the way open for her. “I’ll give you the scoop while I get dressed.” I tuck the lily into the water glass with the one Victor gave me last night.

  Gabs looks positively giddy, rubbing her hands together. “So, you and my cousin.”

  Sitting, I comb my hair. “Sort of. It’s a weird situation.”

  Crinkled brow, she narrows her eyes. “Either you’re sleeping together or you’re not.”


  “Yes. Victor and I are seeing each other.”

  “Oooooh,” she squeals. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

  “He’s going to be my boss, though, so I want to keep it private. I don’t want to be that coworker everyone gossips about and doesn’t trust.”

  Nodding, she says, “I get that. I really do. Does he?”

  I shrug, unsure. “I get the impression he wants to scream about his virginal conquest from the roof tops.”

  “Hey, Vic’s not like that.”

  “Aren’t all guys like that?”

  “Absolutely not. Girl, you have got to stop dumping all men in the asshole pile,” she says. “There are some decent ones.”

  Sure there are.

  Done with my hair, I get my underwear from the dresser.

  Gabs picks at nonexistent lint on her pants.

  “What about Jesse? You didn’t use the keycard I gave you?”

  “I love Jesse.” I ignore the other question.

  “I know you do, sweetie. Just not in that way, right?”

  Selecting a casual dress from the closet, I slip it over my head, dig in my makeup bag.

  “It’s so complicated, G. I really do love Jesse. But, Victor — everything just changed.”

  She watches me put on mascara.

  “Have you told Jesse?”

  Guiltily, I shake my head no.

  “You have to, Cherie. The sooner the better.”

  Mascara wand in hand, I pause. “I know. I’m just trying to come up with the right words. He’s such a good friend. I want to keep his friendship if I can.”

  “Not gonna happen. He’s a wolf. And, make no mistake, you are going to shatter his heart into a thousand little pieces.” Gabs’ voice catches.

  Jesse stares at her when he thinks no one is watching, and she’s worried about me breaking his heart. Her marrying Baldwin is a huge mistake. I wish I could make her see that.

  She clears her throat. “Ya done?”

  I run the mascara over my lashes again for a quick second coat. “Almost. Why are we rushing anyway? The tasting isn’t for hours.”

  She smiles. “You’re sexually active now. Therefore you need some hot lingerie. My treat. Consider it your birthday present slash celebration of your blossoming womanhood.”

  I laugh. “Blossoming womanhood? Have you been reading Nietzsche?”

  “Gawd, no. Do I look like I want to be comatose?”

  “You know what I need more than hot lingerie? Running shoes.”

  She grunts. “You’re gorgeous, it’s true. But sex is always hotter with the right lingerie.”

  If it gets any hotter between me and Victor, we’ll burn down The Avalon. I slip on some sandals, grab my phone and my purse.

  “Fine. I do need to replace a pair of shredded panties.” I wink at her as we head out the door.

  “TMI!” She giggles.

  Tiny Telluride has just one lingerie shop. Good thing, because Gabs makes me try on practically everything in my size. She wants me to get black.

  “See.” I spin around in a long ebony gown. “I’m pale. Black makes me look dead.”

  She laughs. “Okay. Okay. Skip femme fatale. Sweet suits you better anyway.”

  While we shop, I tell her about last night’s dinner and how romantic it was. I do tell her we had sex. I don’t elaborate on where or how.

  In the end, we decide on a blush pink silk teddy and a pale blue lacy babydoll.

  On our way back to The Av, we grab a couple of coffees to sip as we walk.

  “Promise me we won’t lose touch?” Gabs says.

  “When you get married you mean?”

  “I get married, you go out into the big resort world. Next week marks the start of new lives for both of us.” She frowns and slurps her iced mocha.

  I stop walking, crook my pinkie finger. “Let’s make a pact that no matter where we are in the world, we’ll physically get together every other year for the rest of our lives.”

  “Every year. Let’s do it every year.”

  I laugh. “Okay. Every year — until you have a house full of cubs and get too busy for me.”

  “Never.”

  We pinkie swear and walk on.

  “We’ll make the La Mousquetaires swear, too.”

  Gabs is a Native wolf, and so, technically, can’t be in our coven. But she is a member of La Mousquetaires. It was our female equivalent of the three musketeers. Started by me, Shavone and Lauralynn in grade school. In junior high, we added Gabs, Fallon and Amber to make the six Mousquetaires.

  We walk through the portico and into The Avalon lobby. I feel Victor’s eyes on me as soon as I enter the hotel. I look for him. He’s at the front desk. He smiles and winks. When he sees the logo on the bag in my hand, his eyebrows shoot up and his mouth makes an O shape. I laugh out loud. So does Gabs.

  “You two are so cute,” she says.

  Gabs and I go straight to the main dining room for her menu tasting.

  “As I live and fucking breathe.” A male voice booms. “My Chéri amour.”

  I know only one person who pronounces my name the way a Frenchman does. Turning, I see a familiar face.

  “Moon-bow!” I shout back and give a little squeal.

  With huge steps, Michael Moon Monbeau comes closer, and I launch myself into his massive arms. The giant of a man hugs me right off my feet, spinning me and my bag around and around.

  Setting me down, he stands back to look me over. “Mon Chéri, you’re hotter than ever,” he says with his Cajun accent. He lifts the shopping bag to eye level. “And, holy hell, cher, no longer jailbait.”

  I wink and laugh at his pretend shock.

  Victor, eyes molten topaz and jaw ticking, strides fast through the restaurant foyer. “I could hear you all the way in the lobby, Chef Monbeau.” Victor’s voice is a bit deeper than usual.

  Gabs steps sideways, putting herself in between the two wolf-men.

  “I apologize, sir.” Michael’s tone isn’t at all sorry. And keeping an arm around my shoulder is a borderline challenge — in both wolf and employment terms. “I’m just excited to see an old friend.”

  I move away to set my bag down, and to defuse the situation.

  “See, friend.” Gabs raises her eyebrow at Victor.

  “This little girl is single handedly responsible for my career,” Michael continues.

  I bark out a laugh. “I am not. I burn water, remember.”

  We both crack up at the memory of the exploding coffeepot.

  “Look at you.” I stand in front of him and tap his name tag. “Chief of Catering.”

  Michael bows proudly. “At your service, Mon Chéri.”

  “You did well, Moon-bow.”

  Moon-bow, a combination of his middle and last names, is a nickname I gave him when we worked together at The Broadmoor. It was my first real paying job the summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school.

  As the only two night reservation employees, most of our tasks were paperwork –– mail, rosters, fire box maintenance. Although, in the hospitality biz, we never ever say the word fire out loud. That would cause wide-scale panic. Instead, we say ‘evolution’, a word borrowed from firefighting terminology.

  Every hotel has, or should have, evolution boxes in strategic locations around their property. Inside the box are walkie talkies with extra batteries, evacuation maps, important phone numbers and a nightly print out listing in-house guests and on-duty staff. The boxes would be used only in an emergency — like an evolution.

  Anyway, our paperwork was usually done within an hour at the start of our shift. All Michael and I did after that was sit and wait for the phone to ring. There was a lot of down time, and we used that time to enjoy gifts that happy guests sometimes give hotel staff as gratuities.

  One night, a guest gifted Michael a bottle of Grand Marnier. We got a little tipsy on it and boldly declared our big career dreams. I said that I’d grow up to build my own destination resort. He s
aid he’d be a superstar chef with restaurants around the world and branded product lines.

  Looking at him now — fit, handsome, personable, and running the catering department for a five-star hotel, he’s making it happen.

  “All I did was encourage you to go to culinary school,” I say, a little teary with happiness for him.

  “You also introduced me to the executive chef at the Cliff House which led to my first job. I can never thank you enough, Chéri.”

  Michael kisses me on the mouth.

  Victor growls. He seriously growls!

  Despite that threatening sound, Michael hugs me — his light laughter in my ear. He thinks Victor’s jealousy is funny. I don’t. I push out of Michael’s embrace.

  “As much as I’m enjoying your walk down memory lane” — Victor scowls, his wolf eyes shoot daggers at Michael — “let’s get on with the tasting.”

  “Yes, sir.” Michael chuckles. He really is amused by his boss’s anger.

  When Michael turns to lead the way, Victor grazes my lower back with his fingertips, ushering me toward a row of chafing dishes.

  This display of jealousy is not a nice look on Victor. His perpetual smile has morphed to a menacing glower, eye creases went from sexy to brutal.

  Damn. Is Michael in trouble? This is crazy. Victor’s behavior is crazy.

  Lifting the lid on the first chafing dish, Michael turns his bright smile and hazel eyes to Gabs — who glances between me, Victor and Michael.

  “Let’s start with the light appetizers you selected.” Michael hands Gabs a small plate and fork.

  Right through to the sweets, Michael describes the ingredients and prep methods for each item as we taste. Every single bite is five-star worthy. Gabs signs off on everything and the wedding food is done.

  “I’m going to the pool. Join me?” Gabs says to me.

  I nod, still worried what Victor will do to Michael.

  “But first,” she leans in to whisper as we gather our purses and bags. “You best soothe Vic’s ruffled feathers. He looks ready to shift right here in broad daylight.”

  My thoughts exactly.

  I gather my purse and shopping bag, and take a step toward the door.

  “Hang on there, Mon Chéri.” Michael takes my hand to keep me from leaving. “How long are you in Telluride?”