Mountain Cure (Stone Brothers Duet, #2)

by Jadin, Bethany

  Great. Another detour.

  I’m starting to get real fucking antsy.

  As fired up as I was last night, I was able to ignore it — and then once we had Addie alone in her room, nothing else mattered. But something about this place just stokes the embers of rage inside me.

  Maybe it’s the fact that those son-of-a-bitch Elliott brothers brought Ann here after prom, when the place was having its grand opening. If only we’d known how that situation would have turned out, we would’ve broken both their goddamn legs before they had the chance. Good luck dancing the night away with multiple compound fractures, boys.

  Or maybe it’s seeing all our custom woodworking pieces slathered with enough glitzy holiday decorations to snuff out poor Rudolph.

  Or maybe it’s the jazzed up version of Silent Night playing over the speakers. Fucking travesty, right there.

  The man in the suit speaks up as we approach the entrance of the shop. “Mrs. Foley, I have the items you selected yesterday.”

  Addie shakes her head, a curl of revulsion on her lips. “Oh, God, no, I’m not married to Mr. Foley. You can call me Miss Spencer. Or just Addie is fine.”

  “Oh, my apologies, Miss Spencer.” He holds up a finger. “One moment, let me get those for you.”

  The man disappears inside and when he returns a few seconds later, he presents her with a large, sleek, grey paper bag. It has white ribbons for handles and crisp tissue paper poking out of it like a fucking birthday present. “Our seamstress has hemmed and tailored them to your measurements, just as desired.”

  She takes the bag from him with a smile. “Perfect! Thanks so much.”

  Just like the receptionist, his eyes flit to us before he asks, “Is there perhaps any other clothing we can assist you... or your friends with?” He waves his hand at the store hopefully.

  An amused smile appears on her lips. “Oh, we’re all set. I don’t think they’d find anything in there to their liking.”

  Damn fucking straight. The guy nods and disappears back into the store. I give a sideways glance at the display window as we pass by. So that’s where the martini-sipping hipster got that scarf.

  We make it to the elevators without further harassment, and I take the menu from Addie, studying it as we ascend to her room.

  “Holy fuck. A hundred and fifteen bucks for a steak?” I blink, sure I’ve read the numbers wrong. “You know Tank sells local farm-raised beef for a fraction of this price, right? For this much you could put down a deposit on a whole fucking cow.”

  Addie leans wearily against the wall of the elevator. I see now how thoroughly we’ve worn her out. Even her smile, though still so pretty, looks tired and a little bit forced.

  She waves a hand dismissively at the menu. “Yeah, but that’s what the people who come here expect to pay. It’s a branding thing. Trust me. They’d think it was cheap ground beef if they paid anything less than a hundred dollars for a filet.”

  “Lemme see that.” Remi grabs the menu out of my hand. “Oh, hell,” he says, skimming through the offerings. “That’s just for the steak? It doesn’t even include sides?”

  “What the fuck?” Wes yanks the menu away from him and squints at the heavy matte paper. “Mountain grown rosemary, thyme, and garlic herb-encrusted oven-roasted potatoes served with fresh, home-churned sweet cream butter... what in God’s name... why not just call them seasoned potatoes? And why the hell do you have to pay eighteen bucks for fucking potatoes?”

  The elevator doors open, and we all usher out. Addie just looks at me and shrugs.

  “I know,” she says. “But it’s actually marketing genius when you think about it. Those potatoes probably taste the same as the ones Colt made us the other day, but these people want to go back to their friends and brag about how earthy and fresh and primitive the flavors were. It’s all about feeling like they’re getting this rare, exclusive experience while they’re here. It’s a status thing.”

  As she opens the door to her room, I ask, “What the fuck does eating over-priced potatoes have to do with status?”

  Amusement is still dancing in her tired eyes, but her smile is warm and genuine as she beams at us sleepily. “The fact that you’re even asking that — it’s why I love you guys.”

  8

  HER WORDS ARE SO CASUAL as they slip out, but they hit me right in the gut — and my brothers, too. Three sets of eyebrows go up, but none of us say a thing.

  I think we’ve all been stunned into silence.

  My stomach does that funny tightening, fluttering thing again, just like it has half a dozen times since meeting Addie, and my heart is racing as I stare at her.

  Addie’s face flushes bright red a second later, as though she realizes what she just said.

  She backs away into the room without inviting us in. “Uh, thank you, guys. I had a great day. Now, um, I think I’m going to get ready for that massage and then probably sleep for a day straight, at least.”

  Dammit. I know it’s making her nervous as hell, but I can’t quit staring at her. Did she mean it? Or was it just a turn of phrase?

  Beside me, Wes takes her cue. “Alright, you get some sleep, sweetheart.” He leans into the doorway and gives her a soft, quick kiss.

  Remi and I follow his lead and kiss her goodnight as well.

  Once my lips touch hers, it’s so damn hard to pull away. But my brothers are waiting in the hallway behind me, and I notice Addie’s trembling a little bit.

  I can’t tell if it’s from exhaustion or something else, but either way, it’s clear she needs sleep more than she needs kissing right now.

  “We’ll be in touch later,” Remi promises.

  Her expression changes for a second, a worried look flashing across her face. “I hope so. Goodnight, guys. Thank you again for an amazing day.”

  The elevator ride back down is completely silent, and I get the feeling that my brothers are dwelling on the same thing I am.

  Without Addie by my side as we enter the lobby, the feeling of being a fish out of water hits me head-on. More stares and surprised looks, as though we’re stray dogs that just took a shit on the floor in the middle of a fancy dinner party.

  Looking at Silverthorne from a distance, it seems to fit in. The building, itself, is a monstrosity, but at least the architects of the resort made an effort to imitate its rustic surroundings.

  But inside, it’s utterly apparent what it truly is.

  Wealthy leisure at its finest, catering to the most elite snobs. No wonder the fucking Elliotts own this place. It’s just one big extension of them. A condescending clusterfuck of a resort, sprouting up from the base of our mountains like a giant dick-waving contest.

  Silverthorne is a place where the rich and privileged can parade around their pretty hiking paths and machine-made ski trails, make-believing at being nature-lovers rather than actually being in the rugged, untamed wilds of nature and truly loving it.

  There’s a big fucking difference.

  They just like looking at the scenery — as long as it’s been properly manicured and sanitized to within an inch of its life.

  They don’t know what the fuck to do with people like us, the locals who grew up here. The guys with callused hands and mud-speckled jeans.

  An inexplicable anger wells up inside of me by the time I make it out through the front doors and into the crisp mountain air.

  I steer our direction back to the truck, eager to get the fuck off the Elliott’s property as fast as I can.

  Behind me, Remi pipes up. “Hey, you think she’s gonna feel up for anything tomorrow? Or should we let her rest?”

  Something about dropping Addie off tonight has me shaken up. My mind is racing, there’s a fist twisting in my stomach, and I haven’t caught my breath since Addie said those words upstairs. Remi’s questions only further grate my raw nerves. Is he even paying attention to what’s going on here?

  “I’d like to take her with me when I go out to check the north-side property line,” he conti
nues. “And I wanna see if that motion-sensor camera picked up anymore footage of that huge fourteen-point buck. What do ya think?”

  Wes ignores his questions, because he has one of his own. “Guys... do you think she meant that? You know, what she said back there?”

  We’re still a good fifty yards away from the truck when I halt in my tracks and turn around to my brothers. They stop short, too.

  “What the fuck are we doing?” I ask.

  Wes furls his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  I shake my head, frustrated and wishing I had the words to explain the uncomfortable tension in my body right now, the way my heart races when I think of Addie, and the sinking feeling in my stomach.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, I make eye contact with Remi. Our youngest brother is balls-out, but Remi, surely he understands the issue here.

  He stares back at me for a long moment while Wes looks back and forth between us.

  “What? What the fuck are you talking about, Colt?” Wes demands to know, throwing a hand up impatiently.

  Remi sighs and looks over his shoulder at the resort, glowing brightly against the dark night sky, the shadowy outlines of the mountains just behind it. “He means Silverthorne, Addie, all of this.”

  Wes gets that curl to his lip he does when he thinks his older brothers just don’t get it.

  He flicks his hand at the massive complex. “I don’t like coming here, either. But this resort — who gives a fuck? This isn’t Addie. She’s not like these assholes, you know that. She might be staying here, but she’s different.”

  “Sure,” I admit. “But how different? I’m not talking about her attitude or her income. I mean, what she likes. What she’s used to.”

  Wes squints at me in a way that makes me wonder if I’m even making sense. Who knows at this point.

  I try again. “I mean, sure, she’s gone hiking with us and sat around the bonfire and played in the mud and all that, but at the end of the day, look what she comes back to. Room service and massages and clothes that don’t come from a farm and garden store.”

  He huffs at me. “I don’t give a fuck what she eats or what she wears.”

  “That’s not... goddamn it.” I roll my eyes to the heavens, shaking my head as I stare up at the faint stars in the cloudless sky for a minute. When I look back at my brothers, my jaw is clenched.

  “Look, I don’t give a fuck about that, either. This isn’t about clothes, Wes. Tell me honestly — do you really think a woman like her is going to be happy holed up in our little fucking cabin in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Why not? She seems to be liking it just fine so far.”

  “Yeah, well, so far it’s all new for her. It’s interesting because we’ve made it that way. We’re doing all these fun things with her. But think about a typical day in our lives.”

  Wes just glares at me, so I turn to our middle brother. “Remi, what do we do most days?”

  He shrugs. “We spend all day outside or in the workshop. We come in late, eat something, crash for the night. Do it all again the next day.”

  “Exactly.” I turn back to Wes. “What’s Addie going to do all day alone in the cabin? Take up crossword puzzles and knit us sweaters? You think that’s how she wants to spend her time?”

  Some of the wind has left his sails, but his fists are still curled angrily. “Addie’s the best thing that’s happened to us.”

  I throw my hands up. “Yeah, exactly. She is. And that’s my fucking point. We’re only looking at it from our point of view. But what about her? Are we the best thing that’s happened to her? Did you ever think about it that way?”

  “Fuck, I don’t know,” Wes snarls. “Why does it matter, as long as she’s having a good time?”

  I tap my temple then point at him. “Because I see the wheels turning every time you look at her. I see you making all sorts of plans in your head. And I saw the way you reacted when she said that upstairs just now.”

  “So?”

  “So let me lay it out for you, okay?” I begin ticking things off on my fingers. “We stay up on the mountain for days, sometimes weeks, at a time. We don’t mind it, in fact we prefer it. But there’s no phone service. No internet. How’s it going to feel for her when the roads are too bad to go anywhere — because of snow or ice in the winter, or rockslides during the Spring, or big ass trees falling across the road. How’s it going to be for her when she’s stranded in a one-room cabin for the twenty-fifth time, with no one around for miles, no one to talk to, and nothing to do?”

  Remi shoves both his hands in his pockets. “She’s on vacation right now. She hasn’t said a goddamn word about this being a long-term thing. Why are you trying to complicate this, huh? Let’s just enjoy the time we have and figure this shit out later.”

  I turn to my middle brother, exasperated. “Remi, for fuckssake, pull your head out of your ass, for once, please.”

  “Excuse me?” Remi’s stare hardens.

  “If you can’t admit it to yourself, then look at Wes. Look at him,” I say, pointing. “It’s as obvious as the day is long — he’s fucking in love with her.”

  Our youngest brother’s mouth falls open in surprise, and a moment of tense silence passes between the three of us. Wes’s nose flares like he wants to rip me apart with his bare hands, but I’m right.

  He knows I’m fucking right.

  “Fuck you, Colt,” he finally snaps. “You’re the one who’s been talking about her like she’s ours.”

  “Hey, I admit it. I’m just as guilty, alright?” I say, tapping my chest hard. “I get it, I really do. I’ve let myself get caught up in the daydream of us having her all to ourselves. Just whisking her away from all this shit and making a life with her up there in our little corner of the world. But you said it yourself, Remi — she hasn’t said a word about this being a long-term thing. We’ve let ourselves get carried away with these ideas. It’s time to reel that shit in and have a reality check, boys.”

  Frowning hard, Wes stares at the pavement beneath our feet, his lips curling up briefly now and then. I know he’s trying to find some argument to counter what I’m saying. But I’ve been through the same debate in my head and this is where it always ends up, with us saying goodbye to Addie.

  Remi isn’t saying much, as usual, but I can tell he doesn’t like any of part of this conversation.

  None of us do.

  Wes draws in a deep breath and crosses his arms as he lifts his gaze to me. “How do you know she wouldn’t be happy?” he challenges.

  I shrug. “I don’t. Maybe she could be. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking, for guys like us.”

  Remi growls and stares off into the distance, the muscles in his face tight.

  “But I do know what’s fair,” I tell my brothers. “Ask yourselves this — would you be willing to trade lives?”

  Wes eyes me warily. “What do you mean?”

  “Would you be willing to give up our cabin, our life up there, and go live in an apartment in the city for her?”

  He stares at me, his jaw flexing, and Remi gives me a surly side-eye glance.

  “Because if you aren’t, then it’s damn sure not fair to expect her to do that for us — to give up everything she knows.”

  Wes swallows hard and glares at me silently, but I see that fiery spark in his eyes grow dim.

  I hate myself for being the one to cause it.

  I fucking hate everything about this.

  “She’s gonna be leaving soon, and we need to get our heads straight about that,” I tell them, but the words are for me, too.

  Remi still has his hands buried angrily in his coat pockets, and he keeps them there as he gestures, making the bottom corners of his coat point this way and that. “You know, the other thing is... say we somehow convince her to stick around. How long before people are looking at her like she’s got three heads? How do you think that’s going to work out? She won’t even stand a chance, not if she’s fraternizing with the
Stone boys.”

  “Fuck. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” Wes rumbles out a growl and begins stalking toward the truck.

  Remi and I look at each other uneasily for a moment, but there’s not much else to say.

  Our mood is glum as fuck as we follow Wes through the parking lot. The air I draw into my lungs is so heavy it feels suffocating, and my legs are numb, but I just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  When we get close to the truck, that fucking torpedo-looking sports car beeps, its lights flashing as someone unlocks it from a distance.

  Then I hear his voice from up ahead, calling out to us. The fucking voice that makes my blood boil.

  “What the fuck are you three doing here?”

  9

  FUCK. WE WERE SO DAMN close to being in the truck and on our way. We almost made it out of this godforsaken place.

  Of course this is the exact fucking time that asshole turns up — when all of us are already feeling the itch to punch someone in the throat.

  Perfect timing.

  I barely turn as I respond to his question. “Leaving, that’s what.”

  Brad Elliott gives us a smug grin as he leans on his sports car. “Couldn’t resist coming to take a look at it, could you? Pretty sweet, right? Special ordered it, just got it in.”

  Colt snorts as he makes his way to the driver’s side of the truck. “We don’t give a fuck about your little toy.”

  “Nice ride,” Brad says, tipping his head at our big dually. “Who’d you steal it from?”

  Wes stops at the tailgate and gives him a long stare before saying, “We bought it, asshole.”

  Brad smirks with disbelief. “What idiot within a hundred miles would give anyone in your family a loan, especially for a truck like that? It has to be worth more than that piece of shit house you grew up in.”