Best of Luck

by Jill Sanders

  By the time they walked into the house, they were both completely covered with mud.

  “We’ll have some quick sandwiches, then shower off.” He pulled her boots off and she tossed the snowsuit into the wash, along with his. She peeled off the extra pair of socks as she watched him move around the kitchen to heat up a can of soup and pull together turkey sandwiches.

  They ate in silence, then headed up the stairs. She stopped him when he started pulling her into the shower, and instead, filled the tub with hot water, then dumped a bath bomb she’d brought along with her into the water.

  Turning, she laughed at the frown he was wearing. “That’s a mighty girlie looking bath.” He crossed his arms over his chest. They were both still fully clothed. She walked to him slowly, peeling off first her shirt, then her jeans in a slow striptease.

  “I think you can handle one girlie bath in your life,” she said, dipping a finger under the edge of her panties, and watching him swallow when his eyes followed the silk sliding down her legs.

  He nodded, then yanked off his clothes quickly. He hissed when he stepped into the bubbled water. “Too hot,” he complained.

  She sighed as she slid in, in front of him. “Just right.” She moaned and leaned back against his chest.

  His hands wrapped around her, settling on her chest and rubbing the bubbles over her. When his fingertip rolled around her nipple, she sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. She felt him grow hard behind her, and reached around to stroke him. His hands left her breasts and traveled down her ribs to her hips. He nudged her legs wider until his hand settled on the inside of her thighs.

  “Open for me,” he said against her ear. She arched back, spreading her legs wider.

  She heard a low rumble in his chest when he dipped first one, then another finger into her. She was pretty sure she was purring as he rubbed her soft skin over and over again.

  His fingers left her for a moment. Then they gripped her hips and hoisted her up, until he guided her slowly down on his length. She arched her back as his hands held her firmly.

  “That’s it. Ride me,” he moaned.

  She did; she’d never done anything so wanton before. Well, maybe once before. Still, she’d never ridden him backwards like she was now. She braced her feet on the base of the tub and gripped the sides to steady herself. Her thighs burned slightly, but the pleasure was too great to care. The water in the tub splashed dangerously close to the edge as she moved up and down on his full length. His hands were digging into her hips, holding her, guiding her.

  Throwing her head back, she cried out his name when she felt her release finally rush through her. Vaguely she registered his release at the same time. His hips jerking up, higher as his nails dug into her soft skin. She thought he called her name, but since her hearing and eyesight had completely left her, she couldn’t be sure.

  Tom carried Amber out of the bathtub and covered her with a large towel. He dried her hair and even pulled out her brush and took his time gently combing through the long tresses. She lay there, looking up at him with a worried look.

  He didn’t want to ask her what the problem was. Not just yet. There was plenty of time for regret later. For now, he wanted to enjoy the rest of their weekend together. They could deal with life later.

  “I have to say, I’m really enjoying the lighter shade,” he said, settling the last strands of silky hair on the pillow.

  “Me too,” she sighed, her hand coming up to settle over his. “What now?”

  The question caused his heart to skip a beat.

  “Now”—he smiled— “now we stay in bed until our stomachs growl, then we head down where I will make us a dinner of ... whatever Mrs. Anderson left for us.” She smiled and he noticed that some of the worry left her eyes. “Then we snuggle on the sofa and watch a scary movie.”

  She frowned. “You know I don’t”—his chuckle stopped her and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I know exactly what a scary movie does to you. That’s why we are going to watch one. So I can play protector. If I remember correctly, Nightmare on Elm Street was one of your favorites.”

  She covered her eyes and he felt her heart speed up in her chest. A chest still gloriously naked. Dipping his head down, he ran his tongue over her nipple, and by the time they made it downstairs, he was pretty sure she had forgotten all about his plans to watch a scary movie.

  Mrs. Anderson had left a fresh fillet of salmon, one of Amber’s favorites. So, he grilled it up in the oven and added a bag of frozen broccoli and rice to go along with it.

  She sat on the stool at the bar and chatted while he moved around the kitchen. He poured her a glass of wine while he downed a cold beer.

  He lit the candles at the large dining table, then sat next to her, and they ate their meal.

  When they were done, they piled the dishes in the sink, and he walked her into the living room where he stoked the fire and flipped on the television.

  She tensed when he turned on the movie. He laughed when she made the first excuse of making popcorn. He paused the movie just before the first sighting of Freddy. Then she had to use the bathroom for the second pause; by the third request, he held her down, and kissed and touched her through the scary scene, causing her to relax against him for the rest of the movie.

  When it was over, he carried her once more up the stairs. “Maybe I should invest in an elevator?” he asked, causing her to chuckle. She sounded tired and when he laid her on the bed, her eyes slid closed as she stretched her arms over her head. The motion sent waves of desire through him, but even his body refused to move quick enough and when he lay beside her, he wrapped his arms around her and he quickly fell asleep, surrounded by her soft scent.

  When he woke, he was alone in the bed. Hearing the shower running, he crawled out of bed, and hissed at the chill in the air. Deciding a hot shower was better than messing with lighting a fire, he dropped his clothes and stepped into the shower. Only to have Amber scream and jerk a very small washcloth in front of her chest.

  Laughing, he pulled her close as she slapped at him.

  “Don’t you ever do that again after forcing me to watch a scary movie.”

  “What? Climb in the shower with you?”

  “Unannounced!” she hissed, and playfully slapped at him again.

  “We weren’t watching Psycho,” he joked.

  “Does it really matter? Remember the bathtub scene.” She shivered and he chuckled.

  “Okay, fair enough.” He took the small cloth from her and dumped some soap on it, then moved the cloth over her entire body slowly. “I could get used to this.”

  She moaned and rolled her head back. “Hmm ...”

  “Too bad real life starts again tomorrow.” She nodded and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Filming starts Tuesday,” she said against his chest. “I’ll have full days. We don’t usually know when the next break will be. They’re hoping for good weather, but if our outside shooting gets called on that account, we move inside.”

  He listened to her talk as he ran his hands over her slowly. Leaning down, he rubbed his lips over her and thought how perfect the weekend had been. After another very long and very hot shower, they made their way downstairs where they worked on making French toast together, then sat by the fire and talked until his phone rang.

  Having to deal with work on a Sunday morning was nothing out of the ordinary, but having to step away from Amber and climb back up the stairs to sit behind his desk for an hour-long phone call had practically killed him.

  When he came down, she had her nose buried in a thick notebook.

  “What’s this?” he asked, reading the title as he sat next to her.

  She set it down and sighed. “Still trying to learn all my lines for this project.”

  “Roommates?” he read the title.

  “Hmm”—she set it down— “it’s about a man and a woman who can’t stand each other but are forced to live with each other.”

/>   He cringed inwardly. “Bet they fall in love.”

  She smiled. “You’d be right.”

  He felt a stir of jealousy in his gut. “Who plays lead with you?”

  She glanced at him. “Kevin Day.”

  The knot in his stomach doubled. Kevin Day was easily Hollywood’s biggest hunk and bad boy. Amber turned her entire body around until she straddled him on the sofa. When she started raining kisses over his face, he relaxed slightly.

  “Are you jealous?” she said between kisses.

  “Maybe.” His hands moved to her hips, and he heard her giggle.

  “I like that,” she said, moving down to his lips.

  “What?” He used his hands to push her back slightly. “You like knowing that it drives me nuts that another man will be kissing you, pretending to be ...”

  “Pretending”—she broke in— “is the key word.” She rested her forehead on his. “It’s just pretend, Tom. Nothing more.”

  He sighed, knowing she was right. “Still ...”

  “Will it make you feel better if I told you that I’d be thinking of you during those scenes?”

  He smiled slightly. “Yeah.”

  “Good ...” She leaned down and placed another kiss on his lips. “Good—to practice, why don’t you help me run some lines?”

  He tensed. “I’d rather practice the kissing parts.” She leaned back and he could tell she was worried about knowing her part. “I ... I’m not any good—”

  Her chuckle stopped him. “Just read, that’s all. I’ll do the rest.”

  Chapter 8

  Sunday dinner at her parent’s house had always been a joy. But this time, after walking in holding Tom’s hand, she felt the room sizzle. Her mother smiled and winked at her. She even knew that Aiden and Kristen were on their side, but her father’s scowl had been almost immediate. Ashley had eyed them with suspicion, and she knew instantly that she should have texted or called her sister with an update.

  Still, no one actually said anything until after dessert was done. Leave it to Aiden to blurt something out.

  “So, how did you two enjoy the cabin this weekend?” he said, his eyes moving to her father’s.

  “What the hell? Am I always the last one to know what’s going on around here?” Her father shifted in his seat. Eric Scott was Amber and Ashley’s father, and Aiden’s stepfather. Aiden’s real father, Gordon Harvey, was a former Colorado senator who was battling some serious health issues. The last Aiden had mentioned, they had moved him into a nursing home in Vail. Still, Eric had been there more for Aiden than his real father.

  “Daddy, we spent the two days at Tom’s place,” she added. “We just came from there—”

  “Mr. Scott ...” Tom started, but stopped when her father raised his hand to stop him.

  “I need a cigar.” He stood, then looked down at Tom. “You coming?”

  Tom glanced over at her quickly, then stood and followed her father out of the room. The room grew silent and Amber realized she’d never been this nervous before. Not even when she’d been trying out for her first role in her teens. It seemed that everyone in the room was holding their breaths.

  Then she heard a burst of laughter from her father, and relaxed slightly.

  “Did you expect him to kill the guy?” Aiden laughed and wrapped an arm around his wife, who looked very comfortable reclined on the sofa.

  “No”—her eyes moved to the back door and she bit her bottom lip— “well, maybe maim him. Like you did.”

  “What did you do?” her mother asked, glaring over at Aiden, who said he needed some fresh air and quickly excused himself.

  “Well?” Her mom turned to her.

  Amber rolled her eyes. “What Aiden always does—protected his little sister, even if I didn’t need it.”

  Her mother waited.

  Sighing, Amber told them what Aiden had done and how Tom had allowed her brother to punch him.

  By the time the men walked back in, laughing loudly and reeking of her father’s cigars, everyone in the room was glaring at Aiden.

  “Okay, what’d I do?” He stopped short when he noticed all eyes were on him.

  “Did you really hit Tom?” Her mother chimed in. To which Aiden surprised them by laughing.

  “I deserved it,” Tom added, smiling. Actually smiling and throwing his arm around Aiden’s shoulders. “Besides, he hits like a girl.” At this point, all three men were smiling.

  Rolling her eyes and leaning back in the chair, she shook her head. “Men.”

  Since she’d driven her own car up to the cabin, when it was time to go, Tom pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly in her parents’ driveway. Everyone had already driven away, leaving them alone in the dark. When she looked up at the sky, she could see millions of stars and sighed. “I missed this too. You can’t see the stars in the city. I have a little place, at the base of the hills, but still”—she shook her head— “there are too many lights to really see the stars.”

  His breath floated over her neck. “Do you like living in California?”

  That question and others had been running over in her mind all weekend. Ever since he’d mentioned he’d wanted to live at the cabin. It wasn’t as if it was so far away from civilization. Genesee, Colorado, was less than an hour’s drive away from Denver in traffic, and roads free of snow.

  “I like acting.” She avoided the question since she still didn’t know most of the answers she’d been searching for herself.

  He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “And you’re very good at it.”

  She sighed and relaxed into him, knowing he wouldn’t push her further that evening.

  “You’re schedule’s pretty insane?”

  “Yes. You?”

  He nodded, then kissed her again. “Text me when you have some time.”

  She smiled up at him. “Ditto.”

  As she drove back downtown, the snow started falling again and she felt a small piece of herself that had been missing in California return. The lights, the soft sound of her windshield wipers clearing the white flakes off the glass, the smell as she got out of her car and made her way towards the elevator. She’d missed home. And for the first time in her life, she realized that home was Colorado.

  Tom was buried in paperwork. It wasn’t as if he minded working; he actually liked it, but his idea of work was on the main floor of the showroom. Being with customers, helping a family with finding that perfect addition to their home. He’d started working on the floor of his grandfather’s store when he was a teen. Of course, he’d been back in the delivery area. Storing and pulling furniture from the stock rooms until he’d felt his back would break.

  Then, when he’d graduated high school, he’d been moved to the sales floor and quickly moved up the chain from there. Even though his family owned the business, he’d had to claw his way up the ladder just like everyone else. Well, okay, so after his grandfather had passed away, he’d moved up higher than most. And after his father had died of a stroke on the sales floor, he’d risen to the very top.

  Still, he missed those days on the sales floor when his only worry was making his sales quota for the week. Instead of setting those sales quotas and figuring out which employees deserved another chance to stick around and which ones deserved a raise.

  Even the stack of paperwork on his desk couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back over the wonderful weekend he’d had. He’d retreated into the memories of being with Amber so much he’d almost lost track of time and, before he knew it, three days had passed.

  She’d texted him a few times, filling him in on when they had started filming and where they were shooting downtown. She’d even sent him a picture of her and the small dog that was her character’s pet.

  She’d looked good holding the dog. Which had gotten him thinking about getting a dog of his own. He’d held off for years. Knowing he spent too much time at the store to leave a dog alone at home that long. He’d been holding off gettin
g an animal until he could be up at the cabin full-time. Which had caused his mind to wonder and daydream about the day he could live there. He had even conjured up an image of Amber, there with two dogs—labs, a black and a yellow one. She’d been wearing worn jeans and it was spring. The dogs were chasing birds as they hiked in the hills above the cabin.

  Jenna, the secretary who had worked for his grandfather and father before him, interrupted his daydream with a meeting request. For the next two hours, he sat in front of his computer, met with the new manager at his Aurora store, and went over the winter line requests.

  By the time he crawled into bed that night, all fantasies of Amber, the cabin, and dogs had left his mind. Replaced with sheer exhaustion. Had his grandfather worked this hard to start the business? Surely not.

  By the next morning, he was thinking that opening two more stores had been the stupidest, craziest, half-brained idea he’d ever had. One store already had its doors opened; the other was due to have its grand opening in less than a month. Which was the reason for his sleepless nights of late.

  The Arvada store opening had run smoothly. However, Aurora’s location was proving to be a bigger challenge than he’d imagined. First, there had been issues filing the permits. Sure, Aurora was bigger than Arvada, which meant dealing with a larger staff and more demands from the city for permits.

  Then there had been problems with the actual building he’d purchased. He’d picked the spot out himself. It sat right along Highway 225 and Iliff. A perfect spot. Really—except that after the building permits had come back, a long list of items needed repair or replacements. No big deal—he’d set the budget for the renovations high enough that he was still in the green. That was until the flooding hit one day, and he quickly found out that the parking lot water drained directly into the front door of the building. So, they spent a few weeks adding large drainage and regrading the parking lot, then re-pouring the asphalt, and repainting the parking spots. Now he was lucky if the place finished under budget at all.