Page 27 of Snow Bound (Odyssey #1)

“I ’m an idiot.”

“Excuse me, that’s my best friend you’re talking about.”

Anna stomped through the woods, kicking up fresh powder. Thinking it was a game, Henry was running ahead of her, trying to eat it. “ Yeah , well, your best friend is an idiot.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lola declared. “ What , exactly, has led you to this conclusion?”

“I’m an idiot—” Anna gave the snow a vicious kick, sending Henry leaping with joy, “—because I thought I could do this and walk away.”

“Ah.”

“Ah?” Anna stopped walking. “ What does ‘ah’ mean?”

“Nothing. What did you think you could do?”

“Oh, no,” Anna protested. “ You don’t get to say ‘ah’ in that lawyerly tone and then just move on. What the hell does ‘ah’ mean?”

Lola sighed. “ Fine . ‘ Ah ’ means, ‘ah, you finally figured out you’re in love with him’.”

There was a stump a few feet to Anna’s right, so she stumbled over and sat on it. Henry , wondering why the game had stopped, wandered over to shove his head in her lap. “ What ?”

“I really thought you’d snap to it sooner,” Lola continued. “ But I suppose it’s understandable you didn’t, what with the sex haze and all. When did you figure it out?”

“This morning,” Anna said numbly. Henry was nudging her hand and whining, so she gave him a reassuring pat. “ When he smiled at me over breakfast and I wanted to throw up.”

“Sure, that sounds like love.”

“I can’t believe you figured it out before I did.”

“Well, you had to work through the sex haze,” Lola allowed. “ So , are you going to tell him?”

Just the thought made her want to throw up again. “ Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I only have two days left,” Anna said and pushed off the stump to continue her stomp through the snow, Henry galloping ahead. “ I don’t want to ruin them.”

“So instead you’ll spend them in a constant state of love-sick anxiety?”

“You know, I have other friends. I don’t need to talk to you.”

“Great. Call one of them.”

“Besides, I can’t tell him.” Stomp , stomp. “ We agreed to two weeks, and what happens in Northern Michigan stays in Northern Michigan .”

“It’s sex, not an arms treaty,” Lola said, exasperated. “ You’re allowed to change your mind.”

“Yes, but you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m a coward.”

“No, you’re not,” Lola said firmly. “ Look , I can’t make you tell him. But I can tell you from experience that sharing your feelings is always better than hiding them, at least in the long run.”

“And in the short run?”

“Terrifying and potentially humiliating,” Lola admitted.

“You can see how that might kill the mood.”

“So, what? You’re just going to say goodbye with a hearty handshake and say ‘thanks for the orgasms’?, then go home with a broken heart?”

The trees were thinning, the house coming into view. Anna slowed her steps while Henry gave a happy bark and bounded forward. “ What if I tell him right before I leave Sunday morning? That way if he’s…”

“An asshole?”

“Not interested, my humiliation will be minimized, and at least I’ll have the memory of two more kinky days to comfort me while I’m eating ice cream and crying in your bathtub.”

“As good a plan as any,” Lola decided. “ Let me know if I need to stock up on H?agen - Dazs .”

“I will. Thanks , Lo . Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The call disconnected, and Anna followed Henry to the back door. She stomped the snow from her boots as best she could, then opened the door. Henry streaked inside to check his food dish. Finding it empty, he trotted out of the kitchen.

Anna moved more slowly, pulling off her outer gear and stowing it in the mudroom, then moving into the kitchen before stripping out of the jeans and sweater she’d donned for the trip outside.

She technically could’ve gone upstairs to take them off— Grant had made that clear—but she was still a little cautious after the apron incident.

Shivering a little, she carried her clothes into the living room.

Henry was sprawled in front of a fire that had burned down to embers, so she added more wood and gave it a few pokes. When it was blazing nicely, she headed upstairs to put the jeans and sweater along with the rest of her clothes in her suitcase.

She’d done all her laundry that morning—there wasn’t much—and packing had been a simple matter of transferring her clothes from the dresser to her suitcase. Her toiletries would have to wait until Sunday morning, but she’d wanted the rest of it done so she wouldn’t have to worry about it.

She had enough to worry about.

“Packing already?” Grant asked from the doorway.

“I wanted it out of the way.” She dragged the suitcase off the bed, wheeling it into the closet where she wouldn’t have to look at it. “ It’s not like I need my clothes.”

“Good point.”

She shut the closet door on her suitcase—out of sight, out of mind, please God —and turned to smile at him. “ Hi . Whatcha got there?”

He laid the garment bag over the foot of the bed. “ Something I had delivered.”

Eager for a distraction, she eyed the bag. “ For me?”

“If you’re up for something a little extra.”

She looked up. “ What kind of extra?”

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t even get a hint?” she asked, adding big eyes to a pout.

“You’re getting good at that, but no. I need to know how you feel. Are you sore at all? Any raw or bruised spots I need to be aware of?”

“I don’t think so. We haven’t played too hard for the last couple of days. I don’t think I even have any rope burn left.”

He nodded. “ What about mentally?”

“I’m good,” she said and told herself it wasn’t enough of a lie to count.

“Okay. I’m not going to tell you anything except to say that it’s edgier than the play we’ve done so far. But you have it marked on your list as a yes, and I’m going to keep it straightforward.”

Her nerves were tangling with excitement now, the flush of it heating her skin. “ Okay .”

“I am, however, going to push you. We’ve talked about having someone watch us play, to add to the sense of embarrassment you enjoy.”

Oh, boy. “ Seriously ?”

He smiled. “ Nobody will actually be here with us, but they will be able to see you.”

“Who?”

“Someone I trust,” was all he said. “ Are you okay with that?”

“It makes me nervous,” she admitted.

“Good nervous, or bad?”

She took a second to examine the feeling in her belly. Roller coaster, with a side of butterflies. “ I think good.”

“If it helps, you can be as bratty as you want,” he said. “ In fact, I insist on it.”

“Well.” Anticipation bubbled in her blood, fizzing like champagne. “ Okay , then.”

“I want you to dress. Put on everything that’s in the garment bag, and do a full makeup job. Everything you need should be in there.”

She glanced at the black bag, not a hint of its contents showing, and the butterflies kicked into high gear.

“I need you downstairs, dressed to go, in half an hour. Can you do that?”

“Unless there’s something in that bag that’ll take forever to get into, yes.”

“Good. I’ll meet you in front of the fireplace.”

“Okay.”

He winked and flicked his finger down her nose in a now-familiar gesture, then he was striding out the door.

She turned to eye the garment bag with trepidation, then let out a slow breath. “ Well , I wanted a distraction,” she murmured, then unzipped the bag.

Grant pulled out his phone and fired a text off to Michael : ETA five to ten .

He’d already checked and double-checked the set up in the basement.

The portable heater was running to take the edge off the damp chill, the table was set up with all the instruments he wanted on hand—with a couple more he had no intention of using, but had laid out just for scare.

Cuffs , zip ties, knives, and the large hook hanging from the ceiling that he’d installed himself while she was out walking with Henry .

He’d dressed in the tuxedo he’d had delivered with the clothes he’d had Zach buy for Anna .

He’d hung it in one of the spare bedrooms, and the wrinkles had mostly shaken out.

The classic tux with the single button jacket and black bow tie didn’t get a lot of wear, but it came in handy when he had to escort a client to a formal event.

It was custom made, barely a year old, and there was a good chance he’d have to replace it when the night was over.

He turned his wrist to check the time. The gold watch was another piece of the costume, as were the cufflinks, the polished shoes, and the expensive cologne he’d splashed on in the downstairs bathroom.

He’d shaved, and though he hadn’t been able to figure out how to get a haircut without Anna noticing, he’d managed to tame his unruly hair into a semblance of a sophisticated style.

He’d wanted to set the scene, to make it as realistic as possible for both of them. He’d chosen her clothes just as carefully, and knew they’d add to the fantasy.

If she’d ever get here, that is. He rechecked his watch, noted that she had two minutes left on her allotted thirty. He fought down impatience, reminding himself that he needed a cool head to pull this off. When the click of heels sounded on the stairs, he turned.

“Well, well,” he murmured when she came into view. “ You clean up good, sugar.”

“So do you.” Her lips, painted a deep red, curved in pleasure. “ You’re wearing a tux.”

He shot his cuffs. “ This old thing?”

“You look...wow.” She laid a hand on her chest and mimed a thumping heart. “ Very James Bond .”

“Speaking of wow.” He took her hands and spread her arms wide with a little rumble of appreciation. “ I knew that color would be amazing on you.”

The dress was the same deep shade of red as the lipstick, and clung to that bombshell body from breast to knee like it was painted on.

It sat off her shoulders, narrow little straps that were more decorative than structural wrapping around her upper arms, and the sweetheart neckline dipped low between her breasts, leaving what seemed like acres of cleaving spilling over.