So much for playing it cool. A triumphant gleam danced in Regan’s eyes.
“Why wouldn’t I think that? Come on, spill. I can keep a secret.”
Maybe she should spill? This woman wasn’t a sociopath, for God’s sake. She was actually pretty nice. If Sophie confessed her feelings for Logan—whatever they were—Regan would most likely shrug, say, “good luck,” and set her sights somewhere else. But her phone rang before she could get her words in order.
She knew a reprieve when fate sent one, and grabbed the phone from where she’d propped it on the small shelf at the bottom of the treadmill’s display console. Colt’s name showed on the screen. She hit the pause workout button with one hand and engaged the call with the other.
“Yes?”
“Hi Soph. Sorry to call so early, but Tyler and Christine are missing. Nobody’s been able to reach either of them and nobody’s seen them since…”
His voice trailed off and she realized he was listening to something Kady was saying.
Uh-oh. “When?”
“At the scavenger hunt. Apparently they both headed out on one of the trails. Julie and Reed are already out looking for them. We’re going to meet in the lobby and organize a search party, just in case Julie and Reed can’t find them.”
Had they been stuck out on the mountain all night? “Oh crap, that’s not good. I’ll be right up.” She disconnected, told Regan what she’d just learned, and got busy gathering her stuff.
She had her hand wrapped around the door handle before she realized Regan wasn’t right behind her. She glanced back as she pushed the door open, and saw a wounded look on Regan’s face. Shoot. Had she said something wrong? Probably, but she didn’t have time to dissect their conversation right now and figure out where she’d gone awry, so she offered a simple, “It was…nice…talking to you.”
“Yeah, you too,” Regan replied, but as Sophie headed out of the gym, she wasn’t convinced.
…
Logan woke to a dark room, an empty bed, and the annoying sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand.
He ignored the phone and peered into the darkness. “Sophie?” No response, but the unrelenting stillness of the space told him she’d gone.
What the hell? She fucks me blind and then bails? After the marathon night they’d spent together, he honestly hadn’t expected to wake up before noon…or to wake up alone.
The nightstand clock confirmed it was too early to go pounding on her door demanding answers. Too early for phone calls as well, but apparently whoever was trying to reach him hadn’t mastered that particular etiquette lesson because his phone vibrated again. He picked it up, read the display, and tamped down on the geyser of guilt that immediately erupted in his gut at the sight of his best friend’s name. Okay, yes, this could be one reason she’d left before dawn, so her brother didn’t get wind of them spending the night together. He’d have to figure out how to break the news to Colt, because he fully intended to spend more nights with Sophie, and days, for that matter, and sneaking around wasn’t his style.
Neither was letting a call go to voicemail because he wanted to avoid a confrontation. He sat up and hit talk.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Logan. Sorry to disturb you at the ass-crack of dawn, but we’ve got a situation and I need your help.”
He recognized the tone in Colt’s voice, one that said, I’m not going to panic the woman standing beside me by saying this out loud, but get your ass in gear.
“What’s the situation?” He flung the covers off and stood, hissing out a breath as certain muscles balked at the sudden movement. Good God, had he pulled a groin? How long had it been since he’d lost himself in a woman, fucked her forward, backward, and sideways, until they’d fallen into bed, shaking and spent? Self-conscious Sophie had charmed and exasperated him at the same time, but once he’d pushed her beyond the bounds of her self-consciousness, another Sophie had come out—an unguarded, uninhibited Sophie—and he couldn’t get enough of her.
“Tyler and Christine are MIA,” Colt explained, his voice carefully neutral.
“Sure that’s not by design?”
“Doubtful, considering it looks like they’ve been missing since yesterday’s scavenger hunt. Kady remembers seeing them head for the North Trail. Julie and Reed are already out searching that route.”
Yeah, but dozens of trails crisscrossed the mountains behind the resort, ranging from easy, out-and-back loops to three-thousand-foot ascents that would take a skilled hiker the better part of a day. Without the right equipment and provisions, even two young, healthy people wandering around unfamiliar terrain could find themselves in a world of hurt.
“Anybody talking to Beaver Creek management about a coordinated search?”
“Not yet. I’m just stepping into the lobby.”
“I’ll be down in five.” He disconnected, threw on cargo shorts, a T-shirt, a hoodie—which he figured someone who spent a chilly night on the mountain might appreciate—and his cross-trainers. Not exactly mountain rescue, but he could carry a few bottles of water, some basic first aid stuff, and his phone.
He stepped off the elevator in time to see Reed come through the lobby doors, followed by Tyler, carrying Christine, and Julie hovering at their side. The small crowd of onlookers gathered by the reception desk—mostly the rest of the wedding party—immediately swarmed them. He made his way over to assure himself everyone was present and accounted for, and got the gist of the story. Christine had fallen off a trail late yesterday and hurt her ankle. She and Tyler had spent the night on the mountain rather than risk descending the slope in darkness. Reed and Julie ran across them at dawn as they were making their way down.
Tyler was a top-flight ER doctor, which meant Christine’s ankle was in good hands. He lowered himself into a side chair next to Brock, wincing as his muscles reminded him Tyler and Christine weren’t the only ones who’d had a busy night, and automatically glanced around for Sophie. She stood at the edge of the cluster of people surrounding Tyler and Christine, draped in a big T-shirt and leggings, her hair tugged back into a short ponytail and her temples damp with sweat. He figured she’d just come from a workout.
Her gaze darted his way long enough to tell him she’d sensed his attention. Was it his imagination, or did she blush a little? His phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it. The only person he wanted to speak to was standing three feet away. Did she suffer from any sore muscles this morning? He shifted in his chair.
“Buddy,” Brock drawled. “You’ve been spending too much time behind your fancy desk if a scavenger hunt leaves you sore.”
So much for finding a more comfortable position. Not taking his eyes off Sophie, he answered, “Yeah. It’s like somebody kicked my ass and left me for dead.”
Sophie’s cheeks turned as red as the roses in the flower arrangement on the reception desk. She sent him a flustered look before she moved to stand on the other side of the group. When the drama turned to what shoes the bridesmaids should wear now that heels were out of the question, Logan tuned out, but for some inexplicable reason, the shoe crisis sprang Brock into action. The guy was all, “Silver shoes. I’m on it,” and then he was gone.
The rest of the crowd parted to allow Tyler to carry Christine to the elevator. Sophie hurried after them. He rose to follow, but his phone vibrated again. He pulled it out of his pocket and stared at a series of panicked emails from people freaking out about his unavailability. With his attention glued to his electronic leash, he sensed Colt approach.
He must have made some kind of long-suffering noise, because Colt said, “I could throw the damn thing down a ravine for you, but it won’t solve your underlying problem.”
Sad but true. Colt’s observation was all the more pointed because his friend spoke from experience. He’d founded a private security firm, and he worked hard to make it successful, but somehow he’d managed to carve out time to find the love of his life. And though Logan couldn’t be happier for Colt and Ka
dy, a small part of him envied them. And not just them. Marriage and fatherhood had turned his oldest brother, Trevor, a hard-assed homicide detective, into a baby-bouncing, lullaby-singing puddle of mush. His other brother, Michael, a stoic Marine Corps major, was happily married now, too, and he and his wife were busy feng shui-ing a nursery for their first child, due in a couple months.
After years of superficial relationships that always took a backseat to Defy Gravity, having someone to come home to—someone with whom to escape all the commitments and obligations of his professional life and just be himself—sounded pretty damn good.
But there was no reason to give Colt the satisfaction of admitting that. “Okay, Dr. Drew, what’s my underlying problem?”
“You are. Defy Gravity has taken over your life, and now—sur-fucking-prise—you’re burned out. I don’t know if you remember, but when you started the company, all you really wanted was a better spring-locking carabiner. It was all about climbing faster and higher. But now”—he shook his head—“how long has it been since you climbed anything more challenging than a flight of stairs?”
The sentiments echoed the ones that had been expressed by his family, and his CFO, and frankly, the thoughts he’d had circling around in his head for too long now, but it irritated him to hear yet another person pegging him as the primary roadblock to his own happiness.
“I have obligations to investors and employees now, and different priorities.”
“You have an obligation to yourself, too—to have a life. How long has it been since you took a vacation? A real vacation, not a friend’s wedding,” Colt added when Logan looked around the lobby as if to say, am I not standing in the middle of a resort?
“Name the last good book you read, or movie you saw, or…I don’t know…when was the last time you got so wrapped up in a woman you forgot to check your messages?”
Something told him blurting out, “Last night, with your sister,” wasn’t the way to break that particular news to Colt, so he said, “Are you telling me if I want to get what you have with Kady, I’m going to have to make some sacrifices? Believe it or not, I do realize that.”
No shit. Especially since the woman he wanted to get wrapped up in would detest practically everything about what passed for his social life. He couldn’t imagine asking Sophie to be his date for a board dinner or a party for DG’s biggest West Coast distributors. She’d run from crap like that so fast he’d need a zip line to catch her. Unlike most of the other women he’d dated, Sophie would not fold easily into his existing life. They lived in different states, and she wasn’t interested in attending corporate events or charity functions. Getting to know her meant spending time together on her terms. Finding that time meant letting go of some responsibilities.
“Thing is, when the motivation is right, you don’t feel like you’re sacrificing one damn thing. You feel like everything is finally falling into place, and suddenly, all those obligations you had to shoulder yourself are miraculously delegable. And you realize you’ve been holding yourself back, and holding your business back, out of some misplaced sense of pride or duty.”
He dumped his phone into his pocket and looked into his best friend’s face…his smug, got-my-shit-together face. “You’re telling me to give something up.”
“I’m telling you to examine your priorities and make sure they reflect what you want now.” He shrugged. “People evolve. What seemed like a dream come true at twenty-five might seem like a grind by thirty-five. Life changes.”
Kady approached, visibly relieved that her brother and her friend were alive and well, but the twinkle in her eyes promised Colt the morning’s excitement wasn’t over yet. “Life changes,” his friend repeated, took his bride-to-be’s hand, and strolled out of the lobby.
Yeah. Logan’s phone vibrated again. Whatever waited on the other end of that call wouldn’t be life-changing. It would be more of the same. He headed for the elevator and pressed the button for the sixth floor, because the best change to hit his life in the last year currently occupied room 612.
Chapter Eight
Sophie stared at her laptop and reread the email at the top of the screen. The one from her boss that started with the word “Congratulations” and ended with a reminder to order updated business cards to reflect her new title as lead web designer. In between was a whole bunch of stuff about how happy the client was with her proposal, and how eager they were to kick off the project when she returned.
She hugged herself and did a booty-shaking version of a happy dance while a fireworks finale of pride and happiness exploded inside her. Yes, there were a couple fizzles of nerves in the mix, but those were normal. New Sophie hadn’t hatched overnight, but she was slowly emerging from the confining cocoon she’d called home for so long.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the bureau and grinned at the bright-eyed woman staring back at her wearing workout clothes and a rosy glow from her early-morning stint at the gym. Check you. New look, new job, and, after last night, a few new experiences to store in the “passion and excitement” file.
A few? What an understatement. Hopefully it would last her, because she probably wasn’t getting any more new experiences with Logan. She’d heard the irritation in his voice loud and clear when he’d made that snide comment to Brock that morning in the lobby. He was pissed that she’d left without so much as a “See you around.” Who could blame him?
Not that he’d spend a whole lot of time thinking about her behavior. Regan had him in her crosshairs, and she’d smooth out all his irritation. They were probably cozied up together at this very minute, getting to know each other better.
The notion depressed her enough to make her want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head, but a knock at the door cut the impulse short. She crossed the room, looked through the peephole, and nearly collapsed from shock. Logan stood outside her door.
Her knee-jerk reaction to slump down and pretend to be out was strong, but she shoved the instinct aside. Hiding behind the door was a little too cowardly—even for her. She dried her damp palm on her shirt, silently ordered herself to calm down, and then opened the door.
“Logan.”
“Sophie.”
His expression gave nothing away. The Mr. Perfect mask was firmly in place. “Do you…um…need something?”
“Yeah. I do.” With that he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him. Before she could say a word, he had his hard thigh between hers, one big hand splayed over her butt and the other curved along the back of her neck. She was holding on to his shoulders like he was the only solid thing in her world.
“Why aren’t you with Reg—?”
She didn’t get to finish the self-defeating question, thank God, because his mouth was on hers, and that’s all it took to drive thoughts of Regan, and bridesmaids’ bets, and every other darn thing right out of her head. Her eyelids fluttered like flags of surrender, and then lowered completely, and all she could do was feel. Him. His mouth moving over hers, fast and rough—just a little bit punishing—and she knew she hadn’t imagined the annoyance she sensed earlier. She wanted to apologize, to explain she was ill-equipped to handle a morning after a night like last night, but as soon as her lips parted, his tongue slipped between them and proceeded to lay claim to every susceptible part of her mouth.
Vaguely she felt his thumb press the corner of her jaw, coaxing her open even more, but his coaxing was unnecessary. She tightened her grip on his shoulders, tipped her head back into the support of his hand, and gave herself to the kiss with abandon.
She wanted it to go on forever—the slick slide of his tongue over hers, the scrape of his teeth against her lips—and so she groaned when he started to draw away. As if he understood, he ended the kiss in stages, withdrawing by degree so as not to leave her plundered mouth suddenly empty and aching for him. Still she chased his departing lips, going up onto her tiptoes for one last, clinging contact.
Now he groa
ned, too, and cupped her jaw to keep her in place as he eased away. “What are you doing right now?”
You, she hoped, but she shook her head and replied, “No plans. I was checking my emails. I’m still in a state of shock because I just found out I got the promotion at work.”
His smile was immediate and genuine. “Congratulations. This calls for a celebration. Come with me.” He took her hand and tugged her out the door.
“Wait. I need my room key.”
He let her go and held the door open while she retrieved it from the nightstand. Her body hummed with anticipation for the celebration. Primed to the point that she could barely stand the thought of walking all the way down the hall to his room. She didn’t know what was wrong with her room, considering it was virtually identical to his, with the added benefit of being right here…but whatever. She quickened her steps, brushed past him into the hall, and turned toward his room. Maybe Logan liked the home court advantage? Except…he didn’t take it. He clasped her hand and led her to the elevator, away from his room.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” He nudged her into the elevator when she hung back. Then followed her in and hit the button for the lobby.
Okay, that was a surprise, because she somehow doubted he intended to have sex with her in the lobby. The hormone combustion his kiss had lit inside her fizzled as concern set in. “Logan, I’m not dressed to go anywhere.”
“You’re dressed perfectly for what I have in mind.”
She glanced at him from under lowered lashes. Was this “surprise” some kind of payback for sneaking out of his room? He didn’t look upset. In fact, he looked relaxed and…pleased.
When the elevator stopped he took her hand and led her across the lobby. Within moments they were out the double doors of the resort and following an “Adventure Trail” that the signage indicated led to a whole bunch of stuff that made her palms sweat. Destinations included the Corkscrew, Bear Trap, Half Pipe and something called the Wall. None of them sounded like the kind of adventure she would survive.
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