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Love at Last (Last Frontier Lodge #2)

Page 3

by J. H. Croix


  Gage was silent for a long moment and then slowly shook his head. “Not to me. The details are different, but it’s kinda what I felt like after I got assigned to desk duty. Years of being a Navy SEAL and then stuck on base. When Gram died, Last Frontier Lodge was all I could think about. Back to you though, what was the lawsuit about?”

  “Huh?”

  “The lawsuit? You said you looked at the woman who’d lost her lawsuit.”

  “Oh. Right. She sued my client, the insurance company, after they denied her son’s claim for coverage after a car accident.” His answer came out flat. A sense of unease rolled through him.

  Gage’s brows hitched and he angled his head to the side. “That makes sense.”

  “It does?”

  “Yeah. Can’t believe you didn’t think of it. After you were in that car accident when you were little, mom and dad went through hell fighting with the insurance company over it. You were probably too little to remember all the details.”

  Garrett shook his head slowly. “All I remember is being in the hospital for weeks and then having to go through physical therapy forever. And that damn leg brace.”

  Gage was quiet again. When he spoke, his words were slow and deliberate. “You were six when it happened. Every night for weeks, mom slept in the hospital with you. She fought like crazy to get the hospital to let Becca stay there too.” He paused and shook his head. “In the end, you were okay. While you were schlepping back and forth to physical therapy and wearing that damn leg brace, mom and dad were arguing with the insurance company. I don’t know all the details, but I know they got something out of it, but not much. I said it makes sense because a case like that might hit a tad too close to home.”

  Garrett considered Gage’s words, trying to assess his own recollections.

  Gage spoke again. “Look, maybe it’s none of my business, but you’re my brother, so I figure it is. I’m proud of you. I thought you wanted this whole law thing, and you worked your ass off to make a name for yourself. But I’ve always wondered how long it would be before you wanted something else. It seems like you’ve been chasing the money when I don’t think you really care about money all that much. For someone else, maybe that would be enough, but not for you.”

  Garrett thought maybe Gage’s words should hurt, but they didn’t. He was suddenly tired. He met Gage’s eyes again. There was no judgment there, only concern. “I can see your point, but I’m about tapped out trying to process this right now.”

  Gage’s nodded slowly. “No problem. Let’s get back to the lodge.”

  After they packed up the tools, Garrett climbed onto a snowmobile beside Gage. “Bet I get there first,” he said with a wave before he gunned the engine. They raced down the ski slope, wind whipping at them. They skidded to a stop beside each other at the base of the hill, well to the side of where the skiers came down. The swirl of snow made it impossible to tell who made it first. He walked with Gage toward the lodge. When they reached the door, Gage turned to him. “You canceled everything for the next month?”

  “Yup. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay here.”

  “You can stay as long as you’d like. I was thinking maybe we could get those heaters installed in every ski hut in the next few weeks. Can’t do it without your help though. Whaddya think?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Garrett couldn’t help the tiny hum of pride he felt at being able to do something for his big brother. It wasn’t much, but it was rare to find something he had more experience with than Gage. Those weekends in law school earning extra cash were turning out handy.

  “Awesome!” Gage said with a grin as he pushed through the door into the ski lodge. They were entering through a side entrance into a hallway that led to the kitchen. There was a steady murmur of sound from the restaurant. Garrett had relocated to the spare bedroom in Gage and Marley’s private quarters in the lodge. With the lodge mostly booked all the way through spring, he was relieved there was room for him somewhere.

  He followed Gage into a utility room at the end of the hall. They kicked off their winter gear and washed up. Gage took off to find Marley. Garrett leaned his hands on the windowsill and looked outside. The ski slopes were dotted with people. Gage’s quick observation about the potential effect that court case had on him was niggling in his brain. He had no memory of his parents fighting with the insurance company after his accident. He’d been a mere six years old when he’d been an unfortunate passenger in a car. He was riding in the back seat with a friend on the way to soccer practice. Another car plowed into them going through an intersection. Garrett had taken the brunt of the hit. Both of his legs were broken, along with many other injuries.

  His memories of the accident itself were vague. His memories of waking up scared in the hospital were tinged with pain and confusion. What was clear in his mind were the hours of physical therapy and wearing a leg brace to school. He had been teased and taunted. He never played soccer again. He’d recovered fully and regained all of his strength, but he couldn’t shake the odd fear about driving to practice. Instead, he’d thrown himself into studying and stumbled into the realization he was pretty damn good at academics. The driving force behind his desire to become a powerful lawyer was to never be the boy who couldn’t fight back when he was teased. He’d turned to pick up games of basketball and running to stay in shape.

  He couldn’t quite believe that memories he didn’t even know he had somehow affected him after he helped that insurance company fend off the lawsuit. As odd as it was, it made more sense than anything else. Garrett pushed away from the window and headed toward the kitchen. Delia had sauntered through his thoughts all day. He’d meant to tell her this morning that their kiss couldn’t go anywhere. He was smooth at that with women—making sure they knew the boundaries. He’d opened his mouth and his well-worn script had failed him completely. Instead, he’d gone and told her he’d meant to kiss her and wanted to kiss her again. Rather than worrying about correcting himself, he was half relieved. Now, all he wanted was to find her and tug her into his arms again.

  He pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen. Aromas of all varieties assailed him. The kitchen was bustling with activity. Garrett’s eyes found Delia immediately. She stood by one of the waitresses and carefully adjusted the plates on a tray before holding the door for the waitress. Her honey blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail high atop her head. Loose curls framed her face. Garrett took the moment to simply look at her. He couldn’t say what it was about her, but the sight of her knocked him right in the gut. He was accustomed to beautiful women and dated them in spades in Seattle. Delia was in her own category for him. She wore an apron over a wine red shirt. The apron hung so that her breasts curved above it, taut under her fitted t-shirt. His body responded instantly and she hadn’t even noticed he was there.

  He forced his eyes away from her. Now was most definitely not the time and place for him to get hard as a rock. The kitchen was filled with staff, all working toward the goal of keeping the food flowing into the busy lodge restaurant. He headed in the direction of the hot cider in the far corner. He opened the cabinet above to search out a mug when he felt Delia’s presence. Without turning, he knew she was there. His body tightened at the feel of her warmth and the soft hint of vanilla she carried. He glanced over his shoulder. “Hey there. Hope it’s okay I’m helping myself to some cider.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to think about his expression, but he had to force himself to keep his eyes firmly on her face and his expression bland.

  Delia held up a mug. “Thought you might need this,” she offered with a small smile. Her cheeks were flushed, and her blue eyes bright.

  “Just what I was looking for.” He turned and accepted the mug from her before helping himself to the cider. He took a fortifying gulp and closed his eyes. When he opened them, hers were on him. “Perfect. I could live off this stuff.”

  She smiled again. In spite of the buzz of activity, the spa
ce around them quieted. It was as if they were alone. Garrett could see the flutter of her pulse in her neck. He wanted to lean over and lick the soft skin there. Her breasts rose and fell with a deep breath. Someone called her name, snapping him out of his trance. She turned, her ponytail swishing as she did. “Be right there,” she called out. She swung back to him. When she bit her lip, a bolt of lust shot through him so hard he had to catch his breath. “I don’t have much time to chat. Feel free to hang out if you’d like, but it’s pretty crazy here for the next few hours. Gage keeps a corner booth in the back if you want to sit in the restaurant.”

  He nodded. “Right. I know you’re working. I’ll clear out and catch you later.” He paused to top off his cider. Delia gave him a tiny wave and hurried off.

  Chapter 4

  With a final wipe of the counter, Delia tossed the towel in the laundry bin in the corner and glanced around the kitchen. Another busy night was over. She leaned against the stainless steel table that ran lengthwise through the center of the kitchen. A loose curl fell across her eyes and she blew it away. She loved this time of night when the kitchen was quiet, such a contrast to the pace earlier. The window of light coming through the door into the restaurant darkened.

  Harry, the supervisor for the floor staff poked his head through the swinging door. “Lights out. I’m the last one left, and I’m heading out. I’d better not hear you decided to stay late and bake again,” he warned with a smile.

  Delia grinned. “You have my word. I’m just checking on a few set ups for the morning, and I’ll be right behind you.”

  Harry gave a quick wave before turning away. She listened to his footsteps become more distant as he made his way out of the restaurant. She remained still. The bright lights had been turned off, leaving the kitchen softly lit from a light in the corner and light spilling out from the office door. She mentally ran through what she needed ready before tomorrow morning when Garrett flickered in her thoughts. He’d practically taken up residence in her brain. About the only thing that kept him out of her mind was when she was too busy to think about anything beyond the task at hand. She recalled the moment earlier when she’d walked over to give him a mug for cider. It was as if they’d been in a bubble—of heat, of hot desire sliding through her veins, making her pulse run wild and her breath catch. She’d wanted to feel his lips on hers so badly, she’d almost forgotten they were in the middle of the kitchen with an entire roomful on observers.

  Restless, she pushed away from the table and walked to the massive refrigerator. Swinging the heavy door open, she peered inside. Her staff had already left tidy trays of dough prepped for pastries in the morning. The hum of the refrigerator masked other sounds, so she felt rather than heard Garrett enter the kitchen. The hair on the back of her neck stood, a frisson of awareness racing up her spine. Her belly clenched and her breath became short. She carefully closed the door to the refrigerator and slowly turned.

  Garrett leaned against the table behind her, his hands curled on its edge. Even in the dim light, the blue of his eyes was evident. His arms were muscled, curving into broad shoulders and a hard planed chest. Her hands itched to stroke up the lines of his muscles, to feel the strength of them around her. Her heart pounded so hard, it bordered on pain. She forced her eyes to his face. His glossy dark hair was rumpled. He wore a faded blue t-shirt and sweatpants. The angles of his face were shadowed. His sensual mouth, looking as if it was always on the verge of a teasing smile, hooked up at one corner. Somehow, when he smiled at Delia, she felt as if he must save those smiles only for her.

  Don’t be silly. He’s used to women falling all over him. He’s a flirt and he’s damn good at it. Don’t fall for it. But maybe… She swatted her hopelessly romantic thoughts away. Even though she knew better, there was a tiny corner of her mind that clung to pointless dreams—that someday the right man would come along and she’d learn what it felt like to be loved. It would be a man who loved her and didn’t bat an eye at the fact she was a single mother. In fact, this dream man would love Nick as much as her and be the father he needed.

  Garrett’s voice cut through her mental wrangling. “Busy night, huh?”

  “Always.” Delia met his eyes and forced herself to hold his gaze. Which was hard because every second she looked at him, her pulse raced faster.

  She stood a few feet away from him, and the space between them sparked to life. A flush spread through her body. She felt helpless against the tide of pure need cresting through her. A motion caught her eye, and she looked down to see his hand uncurl from the edge of the table and reach for her. He caught the loose tie of her apron and slowly tugged it. She couldn’t have held still against his gentle tug if she’d wanted to. In two steps, she stood in front of him, the heat his body calling to hers. Liquid desire pooled in her center and dampened between her thighs. That was how desperately she wanted him—he hadn’t laid a hand on her and she was slick with need.

  In slow motion, he twirled her apron tie around his hand and tugged her another step closer. She could hardly hear for the roaring of blood in her ears. He slipped his hands around her waist, deftly untying her apron and tossing it on the table behind him.

  “There. Now you’re done for the night.”

  His words were soft. She could barely focus, but she noticed his pulse throbbing in his neck. The sight eased her, if only because she thought he might be half as affected as she was. She dared a glance at his eyes. The blue had darkened almost to navy. One of his hands had fallen to her hip after he’d tossed the apron away, the heat of it burning through the denim of her jeans. He lifted his other hand and slowly, oh so slowly, brought it up, brushing a loose curl away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. Her skin prickled in the path of his touch. A fine shudder ran through her when his thumb traced the edge of her ear and down along her neck, dusting over her racing pulse.

  “I wanted…to do this earlier,” he said, his words coming out raspy.

  Before Delia could ask what he meant, he leaned forward and licked—licked—the soft skin of her neck right where her pulse beat. His startling touch, combined with the burning need she felt, elicited a long, low moan from her throat. If she’d been able to think rationally, she’d have been unable to recognize herself. He licked in a tortuous path down her neck and back up again, his lips nipping at her ear. She arched into his touch, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. He tugged her into his body, its hard planes serving to ratchet up the desire streaking through her.

  His lips made their way to hers. He suddenly paused and whispered her name. Her eyelids were heavy, but she dragged them open to find his navy gaze on her. She saw a question in his eyes, but he was quiet. The moment was heavy with need and a driving sensation she’d never experienced. All she wanted was more. Thought didn’t stand a chance against the depth of her sheer want for him.

  Garrett’s thumb coasted across the beat of her pulse, the soft strokes like flames on her skin. She could barely breathe. Every breath drew the need tighter in her core. Swiftly, he captured her lips in a bruising kiss. She opened instantly, her tongue tangling with his. His hand gripped her hip tightly and pulled her closer against his arousal, the hard heat of it pressing into her. Frantic, she flexed into him. She was hot, tight and achy, desperate to be closer, to find release. His hands moved over her roughly, one threading into her hair and freeing it from its loose knot while the other slipped up under her shirt. The rough, calloused skin of his palm struck sparks against the prickly heat of her skin. He stroked through her hair, fisting it in his hand as he tore his lips free from hers and dragged them down her neck.

  She shoved her hands up under his shirt just as he flicked his thumb under the clasp of her bra and curled his hands around to cup her breasts. Another broken moan fell from her lips at the feel of his hands on her. Her nipples ached, so tight with need. His touch was rough and soft at once. He thumbed her nipples. Suddenly, there was a rush of motion as he tore her shirt off and she shoved his up. Hers floa
ted to the ground, his following in seconds. She had a second to absorb his sculpted body, all hard muscle with a smattering of dark hair across his chest and narrowing down until the tempting trail disappeared into his waistband.

  Garrett’s breath hissed through his teeth before his lips closed around a nipple. Delia fell straight into the hot cauldron of need and sensation. He drew her nipple in between his teeth and tugged before dragging his mouth away to do the same to the other. Desire rushed through her. She couldn’t get close enough, twisting herself against him. His knee slid between her thighs, the subtle pressure sending sharp spikes of pleasure through her. His lips made their way back up her neck to her mouth. Another deep, wet, drugging kiss, and she shifted restlessly against him. She dragged her hand up over the hard, hot length of him.

  He took a step back and tore her jeans open, his hand slipping inside to stroke across the wet silk of her panties. He pulled back, his lips a whisper away from hers. He said her name, a soft command. She dragged her eyes open. Under the navy blur of his gaze, she was held tight in a rush of intimacy and sensation. He drew his finger back and forth across the drenched silk. Her breath fractured. She was so close, her pleasure spun higher and higher with each drag of his finger. When his name finally fell from her lips in a broken plea, he shoved the silk out of the way and delved into her folds. Need clawed at her as she arched into his touch. When he finally slid his fingers into her channel, she was so close to release, she began to throb around him. His touch was rough and swift, two deep strokes and she cried out, her climax rocking her.

  When she finally drifted down, pleasure eddied through her. As consciousness began to sift through, Delia flushed, mortified she’d abandoned herself so completely. Though she barely had the nerve, she pulled her eyes up and found his waiting. She tried to remember the last time she’d ever had an orgasm with someone other than herself and couldn’t. But Garrett had made her lose herself so easily. She didn’t doubt he had far more experience that she did. An unplanned pregnancy and single motherhood didn’t offer up much opportunity for sexual encounters.

 

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