As though talk about selling my childhood home isn’t distressing enough, the next topic is their wedding.
“I’d like to get married at The Avalon.” Mom turns to me. “What do you think, sweetie? Will the hotel accept a tiny wedding?”
“Are you sure, Rose? Look what happened to Gabby,” Phil says.
“Yeah, of course, The Av accepts any size event.” I turn to Phil. “And it’s a great place to get married.” Or not. I’m thinking about the bruja’s spell, not that I believe in that stuff.
Lunch is hurried — I’m not complaining, because Mom and Phil are riding back to the Springs with Reed. Parked near the main entrance to The Av, he chats with Victor, when we get back.
“We’re loaded and ready,” Reed says.
“Bye, sweetie.” Mom hugs me and kisses my cheek. “Call and tell me all about Santa Fe.”
“I will,” I say.
She gets in the car. Phil closes her door.
The older man hugs me and I hug him back this time. “You hurt my mom, I will hunt you down,” I say. “And curse you for eternity.”
Gripping my shoulders, the man laughs. “I’d expect you to, but don’t worry. Your mother will have nothing but happiness if I have anything at all to say about it.” Phil walks to the other side of the vehicle.
Reed wraps an arm around my neck in a gentle headlock. “How about you worry about your own love life for a change?”
“Stop.” I try to pull out of his arm, but he just tightens.
“I’ll give you the same message.” He leans into whisper into my ear. “Hurt yourself or Victor and I will hunt you down.” Loosening the headlock, he kisses me on the lips.
“Don’t make me kick your ass.” Victor punches Reed’s bicep.
Reed laughs and gets in, starts the vehicle. “See ya later, kiddo, cuz.”
Victor stands next to me as we watch them drive away. “Phil seems like a decent guy.”
Don’t you all seem like decent guys?
I turn to Victor. “Can I borrow the key to your storage unit?”
“Why?” He narrows his eyes.
“Well, first of all, it’s all my stuff in it. Also, my date for tonight said to wear cowboy boots. They’re in one of the boxes. Actually, my cowboy hat is in there, too.” I feign thought. “Wonder how the cowgirl look will pair with my new teddy?”
They’ll look ridiculous. Still, two can play the anticipation game.
“A teddy, huh?” He rubs his bottom lip with a forefinger. With a twinkle in his chocolate eyes and a deep grin highlighting those killer creases, Victor hands me the key.
I slip it in my purse and walk to the portico. I feel his eyes on my backside, so I exaggerate the sway in my hips.
“Yup. The beautiful woman is a mean virgin.” He laughs.
Flashing him a smile over my shoulder, I hurry to the elevator. In my room, I take a shower. Removing the tags from the pale pink teddy, I wear just it under my clothes. The silk feels soft against my skin. I love it and I feel sexy, if a bit exposed.
If I’m to wear boots, Victor could be planning an evening horseback ride. The teddy’s built-in bra should be okay for support as long as I don’t gallop or bounce too hard. And, if I’m going to be riding, I want my most relaxed jeans. I put those on and an equally relaxed white blouse.
My hair in two super loose frontal braids, I grab my purse and slip on sandals to walk to Victor’s condo. On my way, Maria calls to say she’s at a meeting that’s running long. “There’s an extra key under the ficus tree on the landing. Go on in and make yourself comfortable.”
The extra time allows me to dig out my boots and hat in the storage area. Thanks to Mom’s OCD labeling and organizing skills, I find them right away.
Taking the elevator upstairs, I find the key and let myself in. The decor screams Victor — a modern and lightened up lodge look, exactly what The Av interior could be, should be.
The wood floor is a white washed oak. There’s a bench in the entry and plenty of room for coats, boots, skis and what not.
I set my things down on the bench in the entry way and being the nosy girlfriend I am, wander through the rest of the apartment.
An authentic animal fur rug warms the floor in front of a cozy river stone fireplace. Of course, my mind goes there, imaging a roaring fire on a snowy day and lying with Victor on that soft shaggy rug.
Two corner windows run floor to ceiling in the living room presenting a postcard view of The Avalon and the mountains beyond. It’d be even more spectacular in the winter.
Extra large original paintings of mountain scenes done in muted tone-on-tone colors adorn most every wall in the room. The paintings are as beautiful as the real thing outside.
The kitchen, fitted with a professional style gas range and a subzero fridge, is combined with a giant eat-in space — the huge dining table a honed and highly polished slab of wood propped on three modern lucite bases. In the right light, I bet the wood slab looks like it’s floating in mid air. Counting the chairs, it seats ten.
The pots and pans hanging by the stove are scrubbed clean, but look well used, too. Huh. Who would have thought Victor cooked? Or maybe someone else did the cooking? Jen? God, don’t tell me I’m jealous that she lived in this space — in this space with Victor? I’m being ridiculous.
Moving down the hall, there are more original paintings. I peek into a powder room and two guest bedrooms with a bath between the two — all decorated with the same paintings.
At the far end is the master bedroom. It’s definitely his. I smell his spicy cologne from the doorway.
There’s a fireplace that looks to be double-sided, one side to the bedroom and the other to the deck outside. The four-poster hewed-log bed is huge — so tall and so huge that I laugh out loud at the absurdity.
“What’s so funny?” Victor’s voice says in my ear.
“Eeeek.” I scream and turn around. “You scared the hell out of me!”
He laughs, throwing his head back.
Damn stealth wolf!
“Not funny.” I move to walk around him, to go back to the living room.
“Uh, uh.” His arm shoots out, trapping me in the doorway. “You just laughed at my bed.” He nuzzles my neck. “Tell me why?”
I scrunch my shoulder to my head in a shrug. “Because I’d have to resurrect my high school gymnastics training and take a flying leap to get into it.” I giggle just picturing it.
“Gymnastics, huh?”
“Varsity.” I brag.
“I’d love to see you perform that. Naked,” he whispers to my throat. Victor’s mouth moves from my neck to my mouth, taking it with a slow, leisurely kiss.
Moaning, I twine my fingers through his hair and kiss him back.
He nips at my shoulder, kisses my jaw, my throat and back up to my ear. “I fantasize about taking you to my bed, in my bed. Have you seen the master shower?”
I shake my head no.
“It’s got heads everywhere, every wall, on the ceiling, and” — he lightly bites my bottom lip — “a nice solid bench.”
Bench? For me to straddle him like in the gondola? I liked that and my thighs clench at the thought of doing it again. “Sounds interesting.”
He pulls away. “Just interesting?” He smiles. “Your eyes look better, but still puffy.” He kisses my eyelids.
“They feel better.”
“Good. How does your head feel?”
“A little woozy.” I try to catch my breath and stare at his mouth, wanting more. God, one kiss and I’m a quivering, unthinking hussy.
“No more headache?” He searches my eyes and caresses my cheek with a thumb.
I shake my head no.
“Am I making you woozy?” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer. Pushing me against the wall, he cups my head with a hand, crushes my mouth. When his tongue retreats into his mouth, I follow it with my tongue.
He moans, dipping his legs, he presses his erection between my legs. The kiss gets h
otter and hotter until we have to come up for air.
“I am so going to pleasure you tonight,” he whispers in my ear. “Not here, unfortunately. My grandmother will be staying here another night.”
On cue we hear Maria’s voice. “Cherie? Are you here, dear?”
I push at Victor’s chest to get him off me. He growls an objection, but let’s me go.
“Yes.” I call out an answer to her.
Victor takes a deep breath and plasters a smile onto his face. “I’m giving Cherie the grand tour, Grandmother.”
“Well, don’t come out here unless you’re decent,” she says.
I can feel the heat creep from my chest to my cheeks. Victor chuckles. “You’re so cute when you blush, do you know that?”
He takes my hand, leads me back down the hall. “And here we have a nice powder room.”
As we move back into the living room, I play along. “The paintings throughout your condo are wonderful. I love the soft tonal quality of the color and brush strokes. Who’s the artist?”
Victor smiles broadly, his eyes say he’s glad I ask. “Me.”
My mouth drops open. “Really?”
“My grandson is a fantastic artist, isn’t he?” Maria walks over to examine the biggest painting. “The next time you’re in Denver, call me. You can see Victor’s progression from childhood finger paints to sophisticated oils.”
I join her in studying the work. I’m truly amazed. “I’ll do that, Maria. Your work is beautiful, Victor.” I glance at him. “You should display these all over The Av.”
Thumb and forefinger cupping his chin, he just smiles at me, his deep creases so damn sexy.
“You think so?”
“Definitely.” Then my mind wanders, wondering what he looks like when he’s painting.
“Speaking of work,” Maria says. “Come sit in the dining room. Since you’re here, you may as well see what I’m up to, too, Victor.”
On the table is a thick file that wasn’t there when I arrived. Maria flicks it open.
“As you know, Cherie, The Avalon has a certain mystique when it comes to love.”
I nod.
“I want to take it from a largely word-of-mouth myth to a strategic marketing campaign starting with a romance package for all the couples married at The Av over the years. Let’s encourage them to come back and while they’re here, capture their stories however we can.”
“Oh.” I crease my brows. “All of them? Even the divorced ones?”
Maria laughs. “That’s just it. None of the couples are divorced.”
“None?” I don’t believe that statistic.
“As far as I know. This is a copy of a file we’ve been amassing.” She pushes it to me. “As you go through it and call these couples, please feel free to double check my facts.”
“Okay,” I say.
“I’ve taken the liberty of inviting the oldest surviving couple — they’ve been married almost 50 years now. They’ll arrive in a few weeks. I want you to be their personal concierge as you document their marriage.”
Why me?
“Not sure if you know, Maria, but Amber is a TV producer.”
“Yes, I do know that. We’re on the same wave length, my dear. I caught Amber before she left this morning. She’s intrigued by my idea. Though, being based in California could make it difficult for her to work on this project with us. Please contact her for recommendations for local AV people.”
“Yes —,” I almost say ma’am. “Maria.”
Maria smiles, turns to Victor. “Perhaps one of the junior suites can serve as a studio.”
We talk more about possible backdrops for photos, what questions to ask the returning lovebirds to get them talking and the potential to package it all for marketing. Maria thinks it’d be a good idea to comp couples who agree to be featured in advertisements.
Forty-five minutes fly by. Victor looks at his watch.
“I’ve got a hot date, Grandmother. Can we let this percolate in our minds and pick it up next week when Cherie gets back from Santa Fe?”
“Of course,” Maria says. “When are you returning?”
“Um, I’m not sure.”
Maria’s expression darkens as studies me for a moment. “I’m confused, Cherie. I was under the impression that you were eager to start your career.”
Shit. I’m blowing this.
chapter thirty-five
ONCE AGAIN, CHERIE’S beautiful face and eyes hide nothing. Panic races across my girl’s face.
“Oh, I am.” My girl sits forward.
“Good. Can you manage to be on the job by next Thursday — at the latest?”
“I believe so.” She looks so scared, so uncertain.
Fuck. I can’t let her panic wedge in my gut. I’ll let her go to Santa Fe as Grandmother advised, but if Cherie chooses The Graces over The Av, all bets are off. I will pull every trick in the book and make up some new ones to thwart her.
“Excellent.” Grandmother stands. “You kids have fun on your date. I have a hot date with a bathtub.” She smiles, squeezes Cherie’s shoulder. “Take thorough notes on your tour of The Graces. We pay bonuses for useful espionage.”
“Will do,” mi ninfa says with a trace of a smile.
I stand, kiss Grandmother’s cheek.
“I trust you two can show yourselves out.” Grandmother walks away down the hall.
“Do you need to go back to The Av?” I ask.
“No. I’ll stash the file and my sandals in a closet next door.”
In the entry, Cherie sits to change her shoes. When she bends over to tug on her cowboy boots, her blouse billows out, giving me a tantalizing flash of soft breasts and lace. The scraps of fabric wrapping her tits barely cover the delicate pink nipples.
Fuck. I’m going to have a hard-on all evening.
My girl bends over even more, digging in her purse on the floor. She produces a keyring, singles out a key I presume is Gabby’s.
“Oh. Here are your keys.” Cherie pulls two keys from her jean pocket. “Storage and front door.” She holds them out to me.
“Keep ‘em,” I say.
There’s that panicked look, again. I take the two loose keys and her keychain. I slide my keys right next to Gabby’s.
“Victor.”
“Silencio. I want you to have them. You’re welcomed in my place anytime. I trust you.”
Trust me back, sweetness.
“You know, just in case you ever feel the need to slip into my bed in the middle of the night.” I wink at her. The humor works, eliciting a small smile. “Or sprawl across my bed in nothing but stockings and a robe.” I moan at the image and a fuck that I’ll never forget.
She stands. “I’d have to take a flying leap to get in, remember? That could do damage to both of us.”
The double meaning isn’t lost on me. I pull her close. “I promise the risk is minimal.” I kiss her lightly.
She goes next door to put her things away while I change into jeans and boots myself. The last item I put on is my black cowboy hat before I open the front door. On the landing stands Cherie, hat on her head. She hasn’t noticed me. Her right hand is inside her blouse adjusting her left tit.
Using my best cowboy drawl, I say, “Hey there, little filly, need some breast assistance?”
She looks up with a giggle. “I’ve got it, cowboy.” She scans my all black attire. “Or should I call you the man in black?”
The right hand comes out of her shirt; the left goes in to adjust the right tit.
“Ma’am, I’m nothing if not willing to help a damsel in distress.”
She laughs louder. “I believe you’ve got cowboy-lure mixed up with white knight-dom.” She takes her hand out, pulls at the lace inside. “Beside, nothing will help. This teddy isn’t proper foundation wear. Fair warning, my boobs may spill out at any moment, especially if we’re going to be on horseback.”
“What?” I shake my head to clear it. “All I heard was teddy, boobs and spill.�
��
“You are so funny.” She smiles.
I wink at her. “We won’t be on horseback. Did you bring a jacket?” Better to have a cover up ready, just in case those lovely tatas do spill free. My cock swells a bit more at the thought.
“Nope. I didn’t think about it.”
“Cherie, this is the mountains. Bring a jacket in the evening — year round.”
“Yes, Mr. Santana.” Mi ninfa teases me with a sultry voice and smile.
Fuck. She’s getting really good at teasing me. My body responds every time.
I open my condo door, pull my leather jacket from the hook. We take the elevator to the underground parking. My girl pauses in front of my 4x4.
“I can’t function in your super tall world.”
“C’mon, mi pequeña.” I open the passenger door, link my hands together to give her a step up. I make a mental note to get runners installed for her.
Once I have her trapped in the seat, I reach for the seatbelt to buckle my girl in.
“I’m perfectly capable of putting on a seatbelt,” she says, trying to take it from me.
I swat her hand away, lean over her to snap it in. “I’m certain of it. But when I do it, I get to take a peek at that sexy improper foundation wear under there.” Pretending to adjust the belt, I pull her blouse open a little, see nothing but miles of creamy globes with a bit of lace.
“Hey!” She smacks my hand, laughing.
I chuckle. Pretending to straighten the strap across her chest, I brush a nipple with the back of my hand as I do. It’s meant to tease her. But the little gasp through her lips and sweet beading pebble make my cock pay attention.
Her small hands clasp around my neck, fingers in my hair, she pulls me closer. “Maybe we should forget about horses and go back to The Avalon.” She nibbles on my bottom lip.
I give in for a few moments, pulling on a braid and kissing her deep. With a quick peck as a chaser, I force myself away from her mouth.
“Nope.” I slam the door, walk to the driver’s side. “I’ve been looking forward to your reaction to this all day.” I start the Hummer.
“Oh, god. That sounds ominous. For the record, I don’t ride bulls or broncs.”
Accidental Lover (Wolven Moon Book 3) Page 25