Page 18 of Claiming Her Cougar (Shifting Pines #2)

LIAM

Entering my home, I put my keys on the table next to the door and wander into the kitchen to grab a beer.

I stuck to soda through the game because I didn’t want to be the only one drinking in our group.

Mallory only had soda. Daphne gets crazy when she mixes alcohol and hockey, so she’s a teetotaler at games, saving her crazy for home, and Logan doesn’t drink a drop when he’s driving.

I take a deep swig and sigh. It was a good game, and everyone liked Mallory. I knew they would.

Walking into my bedroom, I set my bottle on the dresser as I pull my bag from the closet and place it on the bed to pack for the next week.

I start with a couple of suits, a selection of dress shirts and ties for the dinners with outlet center managers I’ll have to attend.

I add my dress shoes to the bottom of the garment bag and zip it up.

Next, I start with the business casual clothes I’ll need for my tours.

I can do this packing in my sleep, so I let my thoughts drift back to Mallory.

I don’t think it’s my ego talking when I say I don’t believe she’s not interested.

I think she is, but for some reason, she feels she must deny it.

She liked me just fine in Vegas. She seemed like she was cool with seeing me socially back here in Jersey until she learned my last name and my position in the company.

I’ll be gone for a week. Maybe my absence will make her heart grow fonder?

She didn’t say no to keeping in touch while I’m gone, so we’ll see how that goes.

If nothing else, we become friends. I know I’m not entitled to her friendship or anything else, but considering we’re close to Logan and Daphne, we’ll end up together a lot socially, so getting along with each other is for the best.

Stripping out of my clothes, I climb between the cool sheets, thinking about Mallory staying over with Daphne and Logan.

She’s sleeping in the same guest bed I stayed in the other night after Logan and I spent the evening watching football and drinking beer.

Is that the closest I’m ever getting to sharing a bed with Mallory Carter?

* * *

I toured the outlet centers in Rehoboth, Delaware and outside Ocean City, Maryland today and am pleased to see that they’re operating smoothly and looking good.

They’re decorated for the holidays, and the special programs planned to enhance the shopping experience are in place.

I had dinner at a local steakhouse with the management teams from the centers.

I’ve been working with most of these people for a couple of years, so dinner is relaxed but productive.

Tomorrow, I’ll start traveling to our other centers throughout Maryland.

Virginia is slated for early next week, and I’ll head home next Thursday.

I check the time on my phone. It’s just past 9:00 p.m. Is it too late to text Mallory? I decide to send a simple greeting and see if she responds.

Me: Hi

I wait for a response, but one doesn’t come.

I fire up my laptop and type notes from today’s visits.

When it’s 11:00 p.m. and I still haven’t heard from her, I turn off my laptop and go to bed.

Maybe she said I could text her just to appease me and get me to leave last night?

Tell me what I want to hear to avoid confrontation?

I hope not because while I want to be in touch with her, I don’t want to be thought of as the type of man you need to coddle and appease to avoid unpleasantness. I’m a grown-up. I can accept rejection.

A chime in the early light of dawn rouses me from my half-dosing, don’t-feel-like-moving state to check my phone where it’s charging on the nightstand. I can’t stop the grin that forms when I see it’s a text from Mallory.

Mallory: Hey, sorry I missed you last night. I had a headache and went to bed early.

Me: I hope you’re feeling better?

Mallory: Yeah, all good. What’s up?

I glance down at my morning wood. I don’t think that’s what she’s asking about.

Me: Went to the Delaware and coastal Maryland centers yesterday. Going to other Maryland properties today. Nothing too exciting.

Mallory: You’re gone until next week?

She cares how long I’ll be gone? Is that progress? Or is she asking so she knows I won’t be around to bother her?

Me: Yeah, I should be home next Thursday. The centers in Maryland and Virginia are bigger, so I can’t go through them as quickly. I have dinner with the management teams too.

Mallory: I hope everything goes smoothly. I need to get ready for work. Have a good day. :smiley emoji:

Me: Thanks, you too. Talk to you later.

Her message was a welcome surprise. I don’t know if she’s being polite or if she wants to talk.

Do I ask Daphne? I don’t want to make anything weird.

I guess I’ll see if she reaches out to me while I’m gone and go from there.

I’m not used to sitting back and waiting.

I typically go after what I want. Like I did in Vegas.

But this isn’t a normal situation. With other women, our only connection has been to hook up.

We didn’t have friends in common or work for the same company.

If things don’t work out or turn awkward, the ripple effect will impact many areas of our lives.

* * *

After another dinner with managers, I let myself into my hotel room.

It’s Tuesday night, and I can’t wait for this trip to be over.

I’ve been doing this for a few years, and I’m tired of it.

I’m tired of traveling, and I’m tired of the talking to people.

Obviously, I care that the properties perform well.

The livelihoods of many people depend on their success.

Of course, my family benefits as well, but at this point, we have enough money for many future generations to live quite well if we stopped everything today.

We’ve always lived way more simply than our bank accounts require.

Very few people realize how wealthy my family is.

I have my own money, thanks to a trust fund, my salary, and my settlement from the accident.

I’ll have even more money in the future from inheritances.

However, I’d gladly go without that money to keep my loved ones with me.

I can’t wait to see them when I get home.

I haven’t heard from Mallory in days. That’s disappointing.

I know from conversations with Logan that she and Daphne have been extremely busy working on everything that needs to be done to close the collections department.

Daphne’s been coming home exhausted each night, and I imagine the same to be true for Mallory, since she handles so much more than Daphne does.

No shade on Daphne. It’s just that with Mallory’s legal background, I know she handles a lot of things that Daphne doesn’t.

Mallory’s also closing out all the files in the system, and that’s a lot of physical work—moving the files, doing the computer input, boxing them.

If there are any left when I get back home, I’ll try to help her.

At the very least, I can haul them out of the drawer and to her desk and then box them so she’s not up and down all day.

I loosen my tie and remove my jacket, releasing a weary sigh as I sit on the edge of the bed.

I take my phone out of my pocket and consider shooting a text to Mallory but resist the impulse.

She has my number. If she wanted to talk to me, she could reach out.

As much as I want to know her better, I can’t be the only one making the effort.

If she doesn’t want to know me, so be it.

Ding. Wow, not only can I shift, but I apparently can compel Mallory to text me. I swipe to open her message.

Mallory: Hey, what’s up?

Me: Nothing much, just got back from dinner. How about you?

Mallory: Watching hockey, Stars and Canucks.

Me: Watching your boyfriend?

I know if she went to whatever bar the Stars hung out at after the game last week, the captain would’ve chatted her up.

Mallory: Ha. The other games have already finished.

Me: I just turned it on.

Mallory: Wanna watch it together for a while? I’m bored.

Me: How would we do that?

Mallory: FaceTime.

If we’re going to FaceTime, I’d rather be doing something more…titillating…than watching hockey, but I’m not going to turn down anything she wants to do now that she’s finally reached out to me first.

Me: Sure.

I accept the FaceTime request from Mallory.

“Hey, let me switch over to my laptop. Hold on. Well, I guess you can come with me.” I carry my phone to the desk and put it down to open my laptop bag.

“Ooh, give me a tour!” she begs as I grab my MacBook and charger and put them on the bed.

“Do you stay in luxurious suites?”

I can’t hold back the bark of laughter. “Definitely not luxury. It’s clean and comfortable. Basic Holiday Inn. Here, look.”

I hold up my phone and do a slow circle around the room. “It’s a bed, couch, and desk. Nothing special.”

“Boo,” she says with a pout. “I figured you’d stay somewhere swanky since you’re an executive and all.”

“I drive a partially restored 1990 F-150. Do I seem the swanky type to you?” I roll my eyes at the thought of anyone calling me “swanky.”

“I think it’s cool you drive a truck. My Uncle Zack has one. I don’t know the exact year, but it’s of a similar vintage. They run forever if you treat them right.”

I settle on the bed with my computer and switch over so I can see Mallory on a larger screen.

It looks like she’s resting against her headboard too.

She’s wearing a pink T-shirt. I can’t tell if she has a bra on or not.

I shouldn’t be looking, but I’m a guy. It’s instinct to check.

She’s putting her long red hair in a braid over her shoulder, and it doesn’t look like she’s wearing any makeup.