Page 4

Ethan

It's dusk when I wrap around The Palmer to what looks like a small village.

Standing in stark contrast to the rustic elegance of the resort and hotel, the cabins are simple and sturdy, but large.

Young men and women who look to be teenagers and early twenties mill around, laughing and playing music.

I drive around a large grassy loop with picnic tables and horseshoe pits in the middle, following Brynn's directions and pull up to the fanciest shed I've ever seen in my life.

"Home sweet home," Brynn says, watching me.

"It's tiny," I blurt out.

"It's a tiny house ," she corrects, luckily finding my response amusing, if not also irritating. "Seasonal employees bunk together in the larger cabins at the front, but year-round employees get a tiny house on the property. And in the winter, there's a shuttle to the front of the resort."

"Ah, Bradford has found a way to willingly enslave people to their jobs by making them never need to leave the compound," I grumble, staring at the dollhouse Brynn calls home.

"Yeah, he's such a monster. Giving us free room and board, access to excursions and activities on our days off, and a gourmet chef, on top of paying better than any resort on this mountain.

" Brynn rolls her eyes. "Let me guess, Ethan.

You spent your summers staying at places like The Palmer growing up, didn't you? "

"Yes."

Brynn pulls a face at my blunt response. "Thank you for the ride, Mr. Hobbs. I've got it from here."

Cute .

I take off my seat belt as she gets out of the car, and meet her at the bottom of her minuscule front porch.

"Seriously? Go away!" Brynn swats at me when I put my arm around her waist to help her up the front stairs.

Pulling her against me with a gentle firmness, her breath catches when I lower my mouth to her ear. "If you ever Mr. Hobbs me again outside of a sexy bedroom role-play game, I'll call your boss every day, using the worst cutesy nickname you can imagine. For the rest of your life."

Brynn lets out a startled laugh. "You wouldn't."

"Try me, my little Snickle-Fruit-Bear. My Pickle-Bottomed-Squeaky-Cuddle-Bug." I grin wickedly as Brynn's mouth drops open in disbelief.

"You're threatening me?"

I shrug. "It's not a threat if you mean it. It's a promise."

"You're evil." Brynn breathes out, but a smile tugs at her lips.

"I'm evil what , my little Peacock-Tailed-Sex-Kitten?" Her eyes widen and her mouth opens like she's about to yell at me, but then she clenches her jaw.

"You're evil, Ethan ," she finally corrects through gritted teeth.

"Thank you, Brynn ," I whisper, staring at her mouth as her tongue darts out to wet her lips. She swallows hard, her eyes locked on mine, but then, she turns quickly and starts up the few short stairs.

I stand behind her, admiring the roundness of her full ass, as she keys in the code to her front door. She doesn't slam it in my face, so I follow her in.

Brynn flicks on a small lamp and then throws her arms wide. "Okay. I'm home safe."

I nod my head. "It's bigger inside," I admit. Which isn't saying much, but I'm not going to tell her that.

Her "home" is no more than 350 square feet if I'm being generous.

The front area has a couch that folds into the wall, and I can practically touch the kitchen counter from the front door.

A small set of stairs leads up to the lofted bedroom, which is directly above the kitchen and open to the rest of the space.

It fits a mattress and that's it. I'm not even sure she can stand up.

Brynn watches me as I look around and then sighs. She opens a small door to the left of the kitchen and disappears into what appears to be the bathroom. My phone pings.

Bradford Maloney

How is Brynn feeling?

None of your fucking business, playboy. I want to leave him on read, but Brynn has made it abundantly clear she wants to keep her job, and I need to convince her to trust me, so instead I respond.

Fine.

I don't have anything against Bradford specifically. I was loudly opposed to the renovation of The Palmer a few years ago, as was half the town, but it wasn't personal. I didn't want to deal with the number of tourists I knew the resort would attract.

West said you're bringing her back to the resort?

What's the name of the guy who knocked her off the boat? I want to talk to him.

Bradford appealed to the city, worked with the roads and highway department to regulate traffic around town, and the resort has brought in a lot of jobs.

All in all, The Palmer has proven to be a boon for an already prosperous town.

Still, he's friends with West, so I don't trust him around my girl.

Already been dealt with. Kicked off the property within hours.

Shouldn't have been working here in the first place.

Brynn told me about him. Well, she told the nurse about him, and I was right there, so it counts. How the nephew of a higher-up has been terrorizing the whole staff right under Bradford’s nose.

Let me know when you drop her off. I'll have the medic stop by.

No.

Screw that. I'm sending her a box of chocolates if she's been dealing with your moody ass all day. Dick.

If you send my girl chocolates, I will shove them up your fucking ass, Bradford.

Your girl? Since when?

I leave Bradford on read as Brynn comes out of the bathroom.

She eyes me and then licks her lips again.

The doctor said she needs to take it easy for twenty-four hours, but all I want to do is rip her clothes off and apologize for hurting her by worshipping her body all night long.

I finally pull my gaze away from her delicious curves, meeting her eyes, and she throws her arms up in frustration.

"Ethan. My dance partner didn't have an illegal medical procedure that your doctor father, staying at the inn, saved her from.

We aren't going to lose out on an important dance gig if you don't become an expert in the cha-cha anytime soon.

You are wealthy and I live here, for free, as part of my job, which matters to me.

" Brynn pauses in her rant, her hands on her hips as she stares me down.

"You've gone above and beyond. I'm not going to sue you.

You have no obligations here. So, dance away, Johnny Castle. "

"Wouldn't I be Baby in this scenario?" I ask her, equally amused and irritated she thinks I'll walk away from her so easily.

"How dare you use my reference against me," she snaps and then huffs in irritation.

Chuckling, I hold up my hands in surrender. "Okay. you're right. You've a had a shitty day."

I move closer to Brynn, and she takes a step back, but her kitchen counter traps her in place.

She lifts her chin defiantly, but her chest heaves from my proximity.

When I wrap my arm around her waist, she lets out a sigh.

Against her better judgment, all the fight goes out of her, and she slumps into my hold.

I lean down slowly, brush her hair off her shoulder, and lower my mouth to her neck.

When she doesn't shove me away, I kiss along her soft skin, sucking lightly, and she whimpers.

So responsive .

Disappointment flashes across her face when I pull back, which I take as a good sign. "I will never forgive myself for causing you physical harm, Brynn. Please let me take care of you for the next few days." And then we'll discuss you moving in with me because you deserve a fucking palace.

Brynn's eyes narrow suspiciously, as if she heard my internal monologue as well, but she doesn't push me away. Finally, she sighs heavily. "Give me your cell number. I'm going to bed, but I'll text you in the morning and let you know I'm still alive."

I nod, handing her my phone so she can enter her number. I don't move away from her, so she rests the phone on my chest and eyes me over the top of it.

"Go, Ethan. I'm getting in the shower and then bed. Nothing is going to happen to me." Brynn pushes at my chest.

“Need any help in the shower?” I ask, staring at her mouth like a man starving.

“No, I do not,” Brynn squeaks, blushing prettily.

Twenty-four hours.

I step back to give her space. As I turn to leave, I call the number she entered, and her phone rings. Brynn cocks her head at me.

"Just checking," I grunt.

She rolls her eyes but gives me a little smile. "Goodnight, Ethan."

"Goodnight, Brynn." I let the door click behind me and walk out into the dark evening. I open the trunk of my car, pulling out a thick flannel blanket and a sleeping bag that I keep there in case of emergencies.

Nobody puts Baby in the corner ...but apparently the front steps are acceptable .

I make myself comfortable, settling in against the door so I can hear if she calls out for help. And then I do something I haven't been able to do in almost a year.

I open the notes app on my phone and start writing.