Page 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Royal

I pull my rental SUV to a stop in front of the secluded resort and pop open the door, drawing in my first full breath in what feels like an eternity.

The crisp winter air, the dusting of snow on the conifers, the deep blue waters of the lake visible in the distance.

Tahoe is a special place, and it never fails to settle me.

I wish it was closer to southern California, and yeah, yeah, I know all the SoCal natives will say that we have Mammoth, but it’s not the same as…

I inhale again.

It’s not the same as here.

I unbuckle and hop out, moving over to the porch of the main house to meet Dave, who runs the place.

I’ll grab the keys for both cabins—a pair that’s farthest away from the rest—and get everything ready for Jade when her driver drops her off.

She’s busier than I am, Hollywood wanting their piece of her now that she’s the hottest thing on the planet, and she’s still struggling to find the balance of yes and no.

Of course, for me that default is set at no and more no.

Easier that way.

“Royal,” Dave says, extending his hand for me to shake.

I do, even as I hate the reminder of my accident.

Dulled sensation, fingers that struggle to work, far too much focus to complete a simple task I never used to think about.

“Good to see you,” I tell him before I pull back. “I appreciate the favor. I know this place is booked up this time of year.”

A shrug of his flannel-covered shoulders.

This is a man who thrives in the outdoors, who hikes and snowboards and boats, who chops wood and scares off bears with only his bare—no pun intended—hands and shovels driveways.

He’s not afraid of hard work, is down to earth, and lives a simple life.

And running this place helps him keep doing that.

Especially now that he caters to the wealthy.

“I’m just glad we had that cancelation and could accommodate you.” He claps me on the shoulder. “You know I love having you here.”

I smirk. “Just not enough to kick out another paying customer.”

He taps his nose. “Got it in one.” A tilt of his head to the door of the main house. “I’ll just run in for the key. Want a cup of coffee for the road?”

“Just the keys,” I tell him.

He nods and disappears inside, the door slamming behind him.

I turn to soak in the view of the valley, the granite mountains and the rows and rows of pine trees. The lake that draws everyone in, the narrow stretch of beach that’s not, by any stretch of the imagination, warm, even in the middle of summer.

The door opens behind me, and I rotate back to face Dave as he comes out with an envelope and keys.

“I warned your assistant when she called to make the reservation, that there’s a big storm coming in. It might take a few days for the roads to be cleared enough to get back to the airport.”

I look up, see that the sky is a dark gray and, yeah, the air’s cool enough to indicate snow, but everything’s so carefully manicured here—trails designed to look natural, but someone would have to be a complete idiot to not be able to follow, along with heated driveways and carefully sloped roads—that I’ve never felt anything but safe and comfortable.

A little snow?

All the better.

It means more people will stay away.

And a few days is perfect—make some music, scratch this perpetual itch that Jade has created in me, and go back to normal.

“We’ll have power, though,” he says, “every cabin has a generator if the lines go down and plenty of firewood. I even checked that the cabin’s fireplaces were ready to roll.”

“That works for us,” I say. “Less distractions and more time writing music.”

“Can’t wait to hear it.” He passes over the keys and envelope. “I’m sure it’ll be just as big as ‘Forever in Rewind . ’” A grin. “That shit’s catchy as hell.”

I snort. “Well, I’ll take my streaming residuals all the way to the bank.”

“Damn right you will.” Another clap on my shoulder before he nods at the hillside. “I put you in cabin six as usual.”

The farthest away from the others.

Perfect.

“And the other cabin’s five?”

There’s a blip of quiet that has my stomach sinking.

“Other cabin?”

Yeah, that sends the sinking… sinking further. And adding some knots alongside it.

“We asked for two cabins,” I say slowly.

Dave’s brows shoot up. “Royal, man.” His words are quiet, but firm and confident. “I took the call from your assistant myself. She asked for one cabin—which I could accommodate. If she’d asked for two, I couldn’t have done that. We’re full and everyone’s hunkering down, getting ready to enjoy the snow and quiet.”

Fuck.

“There are no other cancelations?” I ask. “Not even here at the main house?”

He shakes his head. “That could change, but I doubt it. You’re the last one to check in.”

A throb pulses through my temple. “Shit,” I mutter. “This isn’t what we planned. I promised Jade?—”

Curiosity slides across his face, and I shake myself.

What the fuck am I doing saying that shit out loud?

Being a goddamned idiot is what.

I open my mouth to spin some bullshit, but he beats me to a reply.

“I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Steady eyes on mine. “And if push comes to shove, you can sleep on my couch.”

The tangle of my insides loosens.

Dave’s a good guy.

“Not offering to share your bed with me?” I say lightly.

He snorts. “You pretentious Hollywood types are never satisfied, are you? I offer my couch and only my couch.” His mouth twitches. “You want in my bed, you’d at least have to buy me dinner first.”

“Noted,” I mutter.

He grins. “Shoot me a text or call with any problems.”

“Like one cabin instead of two?” I can’t help but saying.

He winces. “I’ll make it up to you next time you’re here.”

Nodding, I head back to my SUV and start to get in just as I see the black sedan head up the road. Catching the driver’s eyes, I indicate that he follow me, and hop in, winding through the trees until we get to my usual cabin.

I park, grab my bag from the trunk, then wait as they pull in beside me.

“Hey,” I say to John, remembering him (and his discretion) from the after party a couple weeks back.

“Mr. Ewing,” he replies, pulling open the back door for Jade before heading to the trunk.

And then…

She’s climbing out of the car.

Fuck.

She’s wearing jeans and a sweater, her hair piled up on top of her head?—

And yet she’s more beautiful than when she’d been all dolled up at the awards.

Though, certainly not more beautiful than when she’d been naked and coming on my cock.

Her cheeks flush when she realizes that I’m watching her, and I hate the uncertainty that creeps into her eyes, hate it enough that I remind my cock that this retreat isn’t about sex.

It’s about finding all the reasons to not want her, and to give her enough that those pictures don’t follow her.

“Hey,” she says, spinning in a circle and sighing softly. “This is a beautiful place.”

“One of the best,” I agree.

We’re quiet for a moment, and I wonder if it’s going to always be like this—tinged with awkwardness, with my mistakes.

If the chemistry from that night, the hours’ long conversations that felt like seconds, are gone forever.

But then she turns to me, her smile small, her expression content, and I feel both in my cock, wrapping slender fingers around me, squeezing firmly, and pumping.

Jesus.

I shove that down, open my mouth to tell her about the problem with the cabins.

“I put your bags on the porch, Ms. Cantrell,” John says. “Will there be anything else?”

“No,” she says and I don’t miss her passing him a folded bill. “Enjoy your vacation and I’ll see you in a few days.”

He nods. “I’ll be in town if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” she murmurs, and then John’s in the car, turning around and driving away.

Leaving us alone.

And leaving me to break the news.

And no, don’t ask me why I didn’t tell her before her ride left—that would involve me having to examine the bullshit in my head far too closely.

“Where’s your cabin?” she asks softly.

“I—” Well, fuck, there’s no easing into this, is there?

She frowns at my hesitation. “What is it?”

“There was a problem with the cabins.” I explain about Briar’s mistake making the reservation and Dave telling me the resort is full up. “So…” I clear my throat. “We only have one cabin.”

Her eyes go wide as she squeaks. “ One?”

Fuck, she’s cute.

But I focus and nod in confirmation. “Yeah,” I say. “But there are two bedrooms. We’ll keep it strictly to music. I promise.”

Her expression tells me that she doesn’t buy this in the least.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t plan this, I swear.”

Gray eyes study mine for a long, tense moment before she sighs.

“Fine,” she mutters, pushing past me and bounding up the stairs to the cabin. “But there will absolutely be no hanky-panky.”