by Anya Summers
But not Emily. She called to him on a deeper level. It rankled. He couldn’t want more with her. Mason tempered his desire and yearning for her. Maintaining his focus on the task at hand, he asked, “How much of a percentage are you talking?”
“Fifty,” Emily stated, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“Ten.”
“Forty-five,” she countered.
“Please, Emily. I’ll give you twenty,” Mason chided.
“Forty or I walk,” she replied haughtily.
“Resorting to blackmail?” Mason asked, hiding his grin. She was something. Not afraid in the slightest to go after what she wanted. And it was making him question his sanity in staying away from her.
At his response, she settled back into her chair. “Nope. You need me and what I bring to the table to help keep this place afloat.”
“I say we give it to her,” Cole interjected.
Mason ignored his brother for the time being. “Thirty-five, and I want to see a full business plan first before we make it legal,” he said, liking her idea. It could work and bring about enough of a bump in interest to help them continue to tread water, attract more business.
“Done,” she said and held out her hand, the light of victory glittering in her gaze.
“Have it to me tomorrow,” he commanded.
At that she quirked a brow and cocked her head to the side. “I’ll see what I can do. Also, I think the Oktoberfest could be a big hit.”
“I’m not sure about—”
Emily interrupted him. “Look, I know people when it comes to food. We charge for admission, say twenty-five a person. Kids under five are free. That would include all the pretzels, hot dogs, brats, and other German fare I whip up. Then we charge for beer. Perhaps see if Spencer would be willing to donate a few kegs our way. Talk to Mister Hunt about offering pony rides for the kids—which we’ll charge a nominal fee for. We could have balloons and games for the kids. Maybe a face painting station.”
Fuck, her mind was fascinating. He liked the idea. Turned the numbers over in his brain. “And where would you get all these people to work it? We’d have to pay them.”
“No we wouldn’t,” she said, entirely too pleased with herself, her expression superior, haughty, and controlled. Christ, it was such a turn on. Granted, everything she did turned him on. And now that he knew how wild and undone she became beneath his hands, he only had to look at her, smell her, and he was hard.
“How?” Cole asked, interjecting himself back into the conversation and sending Mason a frustrated glance for keeping him out of the negotiations. Mason would catch hell later. When Emily was around, everything and everyone else seemed to disappear into the background. Mason tended to heft most of the weight of the responsibility for the lodge on his shoulders. He knew he should ask Cole to shoulder more of the burden, but the way they operated had worked for them this far.
“By asking the club members to donate their time, of course. It would only be a day. Maybe see if the Teton Creamery and a few of the local shops would want a booth to sell their ice cream and tourist items. We can charge them a set amount for booth space.”
Cole had a considering look on his face and said, “It’s not a half bad idea. How soon could you put it together? October’s next week.”
“Give me two weeks. We can plan the event for the second Saturday in October,” she stated.
“And if this is successful?” Mason asked.
“Then we look at expanding on it next year. Maybe make it a full weekend deal, or every Saturday in October. Perhaps look at doing other events here as well, throughout. I know that this place hosts weddings, and I wouldn’t want to detract from the revenue the lodge makes off those. So there would be some coordination and planning involved but I think it could be beneficial all round.”
“And you’re fine with leaving LA behind permanently?” Cole asked.
She smiled at his brother and said, “The place has grown on me. Granted, I know I have yet to experience winter and I might be a popsicle come January, but I’m taking each day as it comes. I like seeing a herd of elk out my door instead of traffic jams along the four oh five.”
Emily planned to stay in Jackson? She wanted to remain? It rocked Mason’s world to think she was considering the lodge, being here long term. That she was looking at building a life here.
“Get me a proposal for them both and I will consider it. Isn’t the lunch rush about to begin?” he asked with a raised brow.
“Yep. But I’ve got both Faith and Tibby trained well. The kitchen is safe in my hands, that I can promise you,” Emily said and stood. “Oh, and you both should come for dinner tonight. I have a chicken pot pie as the special. It’s to die for.” And then she exited his office, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Mason stared after her. From the moment she’d entered his life, she had started slowly upending his tightly controlled world, day by day. And he had to admit, as much as it unsettled him, he was coming to look forward to his verbal sparring matches with her. Enjoyed trying to decipher the way her fascinating, intelligent brain worked.
“Both of her ideas have a lot of merit,” Cole commented, bringing him back to the present.
“They do. How do you feel about making her a partner in the restaurant?” he asked.
“We could do worse. Besides, most days, she likes me more than you and would likely side with me if we needed a tie breaker.”
“There is that,” Mason said with a half grin. He’d been an ass toward Emily, for her protection, to keep her at arm’s length. Even after their unexpected, soul shattering night together. He couldn’t change what had already transpired. However, if she wasn’t planning on leaving and hightailing it back to the city the first opportunity she had, a potential partnership could prove extremely lucrative for both parties.
“As long as you keep your dick out of it,” Cole stated.
“I will. I fucked up, I know I did. But I won’t go there again,” Mason promised and hoped like hell it was a promise he could keep. He couldn’t let Cole down.
“See that you do. I’ve never seen you willing to offer a stake in this place to anyone else. Why her, Mase? Is it because you have feelings for her?” Cole asked.
His question rocked him. His brother knew him too damn well. He didn’t have feelings for Emily, did he? They’d only been together one night. And then that other time here at his desk, but who was counting?
It was finished. He wouldn’t touch her again.
Resolved in his position to remain unaffected by her, Mason replied, “It has nothing to do with her. It’s a business deal and is about keeping the lodge above water.”
Cole leveled him with a glare, like he knew Mason was holding on to his resolve by a thread. A badly fraying thread that seemed liable to snap any moment. Cole shook his head at whatever he found in Mason’s gaze, then left his office.
In the quiet stillness as he stared at the chair where Emily had sat, Mason knew, deep down, it had everything to do with her and his feelings toward her. It was a minefield littered with emotional debris that he had no idea how to navigate.
The idea of them agreeing to a partnership worried him. Not because he didn’t think she could make it work, bring the lofty plans she had into action. No, it wasn’t that at all. The more he was around her, the more he wanted her.
But he didn’t know if he could continue to see her day by day and not cave. That his resolve to remain unaffected, to keep his distance, would crumble.
Chapter 17
Emily spent the better part of the previous night hammering her two proposals together.
Wired from a half pot of coffee and a package of Ho Hos, she trudged the short distance to Mason’s house. Her breath plumed in frosty alabaster clouds. She shivered. In the early pre-dawn gloom, deep indigo receded on the horizon to the bright golden tangerine colored rays of sunlight streaking across the sky. She stifled a yawn. Even with the caffeine and sugar humming in her blo
odstream, today was going to be a long day. One that was just getting started.
As it was, she was already tardy arriving at the kitchen. She should have been there half an hour ago and would have to fly through some of the breakfast prep. But it shouldn’t take her too long. She had her system down pat for the biscuits and pastries, the pancake and waffle batter. She’d speed through it as best she could. There was nothing else for it. She’d not climbed into bed until three, and had gotten a full two hours of sleep. She had twenty minutes before the restaurant opened at six for the early birds. Plenty of time.
Emily had spent the better part of the night creating her vision, her plans for the Oktoberfest event and the cooking classes. She wanted them. It had been a dream of hers to teach cooking classes. She’d done a few guest appearances at a local community college in Los Angeles a while back, and had loved it. Yet she wanted to expand on it. Make it fun and enjoyable, with perhaps a date night for couples where they could drink wine as they cooked. Do themes with children, like create a meal for superheroes or cupcakes for a princess tea party.
And Oktoberfest, well, she’d always enjoyed festivals surrounding food. She’d catered parties for each of her parents’ businesses with success. This would just be a teensy bit larger than that. But she could do it. She knew she could.
In the short time she’d been in Jackson, the lodge had come to matter.
And she wanted a stake in the Elkhorn, to make it a place that belonged to her. While discovering that they were short on cash flow wasn’t the ideal time for launching her bid for a piece of the pie, it was what she had to work with. If she succeeded and achieved the impossible with these events, she’d prove that this was where she belonged, demonstrate the value she brought to the Elkhorn.
She hadn’t lied to Cole yesterday. This place had grown on her. She was falling for the lodge, more than she’d thought she would. Who could have known the sense of happiness she would feel at spying a herd of elk traipsing through distant fields? Emily had never considered herself an outdoorswoman or a nature girl.
When she’d first made the drive from Los Angeles she had worried that she would miss all the activity, all the people, and yet what she found was here was more than she’d expected. She was at peace here. She enjoyed the stillness on the air, like it was now. The indrawn inhalation before the day began.
There were no car horns blaring, no screaming neighbors. The drama that had always infused her life, from her family to the staff at whatever restaurant she worked at, was conspicuously absent. She thrilled at the fresh air that wasn’t clogged with smog.
Even though being here meant she’d have to order things online and have them delivered if she needed new clothes or shoes or whatever else, in truth, Emily had never needed much. Oh sure, she liked clothes and shopping as much as the next woman. Yet she’d never been a fashionista, which was at odds with living in Los Angeles. She preferred jeans and cotton tops over heels that she couldn’t balance in to save her life.
And, okay, there was the club too. Emily had dipped her toes in the water but there was so much more she yearned to explore. She’d loved it when Mason had taken command. Had never experienced such an endorphin high as she did when she was restrained. Emily still couldn’t go into the dry storage closet in the Elkhorn without remembering her first time with Mason.
Whether she submerged herself in the deep end of the lifestyle with Mason or with another Dom, she knew she needed to explore more facets of herself. All those times she’d been intimate with a guy, and it had been just, well, yawn worthy. She’d thought it was just her, that maybe she just didn’t get aroused and get the whole sex thing. Mason had proved her wrong. And yet, even as she considered or envisioned treading further into the lifestyle, in her mind it was Mason guiding her, showing her untold, wicked delights.
She climbed the wooden painted white steps up to the front porch and his navy front door. Mason and Cole lived in an antiquated, Victorian style farmhouse, very unlike the rest of the buildings on lodge property. This place looked almost out of sorts with its style and color, painted ivory with a deep navy blue trim and shutters. Emily wondered why the main house was so different from the rest.
It was one of those little mysteries she hoped to uncover.
She knocked on the front door. It was early but most days both Mason and Cole began at first light. Emily shivered in the cold as she waited. Someone was up because there was a light on inside.
The door opened. It was Cole, dressed in a forest green plaid flannel shirt and blue jeans, his hat conspicuously absent. A slash of dark brow lifted as he spied her. Emily hated to admit she was disappointed it wasn’t Mason at the door. She had to push past her relentless need or she would get nothing accomplished around here.
“Emily, didn’t expect you this morning. Come on in out of the cold,” Cole said. He held the door open and then ushered her into the kitchen. She liked their kitchen; the dark cobalt walls with golden pine cabinetry and gray slate countertops. Against one of the walls was a dining table with bench seating along one side of it. The stove and fridge were stainless steel and a bit older but still worked well.
Cole picked up a coffee mug he’d left on the kitchen table and asked, “What brings you around so early?”
“I wanted to bring these by for you and Mason before I started my day. Included is a list of insurance companies with regards to adding liability coverage for the cooking classes. And, for the Oktoberfest Event, a list of prices—what we should charge versus expected operating costs, and potential revenue.”
“You’re that serious about this place?” Cole asked. His mocha gaze delved deep as he studied her. As much as she had come to like Cole, she’d never considered his role in the lodge as part owner. But that was mainly because his brother tended to dominate her thoughts and the very air whenever he was around. Cole might be a hunk of spectacular cowboy, but he wasn’t a pushover. And his charming smile held a depth of knowledge he only seemed to let people see on occasion. Interesting. Wonder what kind of woman it would take to truly turn his head?
Was she serious about the Elkhorn, about making it her place? “Yep. Absolutely certain.”
“And is that because of Mason?” Cole prodded. She couldn’t blame him for this question. If it was her and this was her place, she’d want to know the answer.
“No. These two proposals have nothing to do with him. I realize, after the other night, that you know about us. But it’s not serious between us. Nor will I allow what happened between him and me to harm our business relationship in any way. Besides, I think whatever it was is done, now we’ve moved past it and we can both walk away. No harm, no foul,” she explained, even though the sinking pit in her stomach declared her words a total lie. But Cole didn’t need to know that.
And then the hair on the back of her neck prickled to attention.
Mason sauntered into the kitchen. His hair was damp, he hadn’t bothered to shave, his feet were bare and he wore a pair of jeans. Only a pair of jeans, and without a belt they rode low on his muscular hips. Emily felt brain cells expire at the expanse of his finely hewn chest, the dark fur covering his pectorals and forming a single dark happy trail over his ripcord belly, only to disappear beneath the low-slung waistband of his jeans.
Her body electrified at his presence. Her nipples hardened. She pressed her thighs together.
“Emily? What can I do for you?” Mason gruffly asked, his voice reminding her of dark molten molasses. Yet his face was set in a stonewall. Mount Rushmore was infinitely more expressive than he was at the moment. Then she sucked in a ragged breath when the full brunt of his gaze met hers. The rest of him might not be showing any emotion, but his caramel eyes blazed, glittering with fury and desire as they took in her appearance.
Dammit. He had heard her conversation with Cole. But instead of acknowledging that, she side-stepped the potential minefield and said, “I have the proposal for you for the cooking classes and the Oktoberfest event. Both of
them can be tweaked as needed.”
“Leave them on the table and I will get to it when I can,” Mason said, pouring himself a cup of coffee before he asked, “Shouldn’t you be in the restaurant preparing for the breakfast rush?”
And that was how it was going to be between them. It was clear to Emily that the words he’d spoken the other night when they’d been intimate hadn’t meant all that much. It had all just been the heat of the moment. While Mason might want to sleep with her, he didn’t want anything outside the bedroom.
It hurt.
More than she was ready to admit. Emily was accustomed to men passing her over for other women. But there wasn’t anyone waiting in the wings for Mason that she knew about. This was just him, showing her that theirs was a business arrangement only. That their night together was the abnormality.
That was what she wanted, right? To keep things strictly business between them. He was surly and rude. Emily’s focus should be to make this place more than simply one where she worked but one where she built a life. And if there was a part of her that ached because she’d hope Mason would be a part of that life, she ignored it. Not that she thought about building a life with Mason—more that he would be in it, perhaps in an intimate capacity.
But he didn’t feel the same, apparently.
It stung. She blinked back the sudden onslaught of moisture.
Firming her resolve and her shoulders, she masked her hurt behind a steely gaze and sarcastically replied, “Yes, Sir.”
“Catch you around, Cole.” She nodded.
Then Emily swiveled on her heel and stalked out the front door. Mason kept on tossing barriers between them. If he wanted nothing more than a business arrangement, even when she knew he wanted her, that was fine. The restaurant was what mattered. Her dream was what mattered.