Going to the Chapel Page 2

  “We’re supposed to cut the cake,” he said with a sigh.

  Ivy pushed off the bar. “Now? Why are there so many rules about weddings?” she asked, looking to me as if I could answer.

  I shrugged. “Don’t ask me.”

  Owen chuckled. “I’m told if we don’t do it soon, they’ll need to move it back into the kitchen.”

  I followed them, meandering over to the back of the guests surrounding the table where the cake was displayed. I caught myself searching for Max. I wanted to know more about him, and that was bad. Because when I got curious about a man, that was when I did stupid things. Just as I was telling myself it was a good thing he wasn’t around, I sensed his presence.

  He strolled to my side. I couldn’t keep from peeking looks at him. He was obscenely handsome with his midnight black hair and ice blue eyes. I wanted to dive in and take a swim. He held a glass of scotch in his hand. Even his hands were sexy, strong and slightly rugged as if he’d worked with them. My mind flashed to a vision of his hands on my body, heat blooming through me in response.

  Restless, I took a gulp of my martini. Mistake. It burned my throat, and I started coughing.

  “You okay?” Max asked.

  His voice was low and sent a shiver over my skin. I tried to say I was fine, but I just kept coughing. His hand slid down my spine. My dress was open at the top. The heat of his touch sent fire shimmering under the surface of my skin.

  He turned, guiding me away from the small crowd gathered around Ivy and Owen. My coughing outburst was drawing attention. Max walked me back to the bar where Garrett was now serving drinks. Max paused by the corner of the bar near the windows. His hand rested on my back, the heat of his touch filtering through the silk of my dress. I slowly managed to stop coughing.

  Glancing up, I found his blue gaze watching me. “Went down the wrong pipe?” he asked.

  With a sigh and another breath, I nodded. My eyes watering, I reached over to snag a bar napkin. Dabbing at them, I set my martini down. “I’m not fit for company at things like this,” I said with a little laugh.

  Max was quiet for a beat and then his mouth hitched at the corner. Oh sweet hell. He should not smile. My belly felt funny and heat spun through my veins. He looked away, glancing over his shoulder towards the cake cutting. “I think we missed the fun.”

  I chuckled. “The most important part already happened.”

  “How long are you staying?” he asked, his gaze swinging back to me.

  His question took me off guard. “I’m at the hotel until tomorrow. You?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s beautiful here.”

  As I looked up at him, my body—my traitorous body—sent naughty thoughts through my mind. The view of Max was quite beautiful. He was ridiculously handsome. Yet, I knew that wasn’t what he was talking about. I managed to keep those thoughts in my head and nodded politely. “It is.”

  Garrett came to the corner of the bar. I’d been here two days now and met most everyone in Ivy and Owen’s circle. I’d quickly come to learn that the Hamilton family was comprised of beautiful people. Garrett was no exception with his glossy dark hair and blue eyes. His gaze was sharp and assessing as he looked between us.

  “Another drink?” he asked, his eyes flicking to my almost empty martini glass.

  “Yes, please,” I said quickly. I needed something to take the edge off. Having Max nearby made me restless and prickly all over.

  “You?” Garrett asked, his eyes shifting to Max.

  Max shook his head. “All set, but thanks. I’m the shuttle, so no drinks for me.”

  Garrett chuckled as he prepped another pomegranate martini for me.

  The rest of the evening was a blur. I drank too many martinis, danced, and felt the burn of Max’s gaze on me every time our eyes collided. I wanted him. Badly.

  Even in my tipsy state, I kept reminding myself that whenever I wanted someone, it was usually a bad decision on my part. I didn’t do casual well. I never had.

  I tended to fall hard and fast, confusing attraction for something else. My therapist, the one I saw after my last relationship blew up in my face, had gently pointed out that perhaps I was looking for the love I’d never gotten from my father.

  I’d been looking high and low for love most of my life. With my mother gone and a father who approached parenting as something to pencil in on his calendar and hand off to others, I’d craved love for too long. As such, I misinterpreted cues and read far too much into small gestures.

  Max was particularly tempting with his dark hair, the strong lines of his face, and his eyes. One look from those cool blue eyes, and it felt as if he was undressing me, his gaze lighting little fires on my skin everywhere they landed.

  Somewhere along the way, I ended up in his arms out on the deck. Seeing as he was one of the groomsmen, and I was a bridesmaid, it only made sense we would dance at some point. Not many men enjoyed dancing, and I loved it. Max surprised me. While he gave off a somber, controlled air, he danced like a dream, twirling me easily around the deck. When the music shifted into a slower song, he pulled me close, just when I was thinking I needed to make my escape.

  With the heat of desire sliding through my veins and the feel of his strong embrace, my body reassured my mind that it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy it for a few minutes. He smelled good, crisp and musky at once. My head barely reached his shoulder. With one of his hands gripping mine and the other splayed on my lower back with his fingers teasing over my bottom, I could feel the moisture building between my thighs, the silk of my panties wet.

  “So, Harlow, tell me what you do?” he murmured.

  A rather common question and perfectly expected. Yet, these questions were loaded for me because they reminded me of how I let my father down over and over again.

  I shoved those thoughts aside and answered. “I just finished my training to be a hotshot firefighter.”

  Max’s steps stuttered slightly, and I couldn’t help but laugh, glancing up at him. “Did I surprise you?”

  His eyes canted down to mine, and my breath caught in my throat as butterflies spun in my belly. This man was too much.

  He was quiet for a beat, his gaze searching mine as a slow grin stretched across face. “Yes, you surprised me.”

  Between his grin and the slightly rough edge of his voice, a shiver ran through me. I ordered my mind to ignore the crazy signals of my body. Manners, I had manners.

  “And what you do?” I managed to ask.

  I felt the shrug of his shoulders, the motion making me aware of his muscled chest pressing against my breasts. My nipples tightened, giving me away. He appeared to be considering his words.

  “Business,” was all he finally said.

  I was just tipsy enough to be less than polite. “Vague much?”

  He smiled again, sending my belly into a series of flips. “I’d rather not think about work tonight.”

  The song ended and a more upbeat song began. When Max stepped back, I felt bereft, my body nearly following him like steel to a magnet. I managed to stop myself. Conveniently, Ginger Nash, Ivy’s sister-in-law, was approaching with two glasses in her hands.

  “Champagne?” she asked, pausing at my side.

  Ginger was funny and smart. Her blond hair was up in a twist, and her brown eyes were twinkling. She squeezed my arm as I accepted the proffered drink and took a gulp. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said with a wide smile. Ginger seemed to have decided we were best buddies even though we’d only met days ago. She was easy to be around with her sly sense of humor and warmth.

  She glanced to Max, arching a brow. “Aren’t you handsome?”

  Max barely reacted, his lips quirking.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t flirting. Just making an observation. I’m happily married,” Ginger said dismissively.

  Max merely arched a brow this time, his eyes glinting with mirth.

  “It’s a wedding though,” she continued. “Maybe you should find someone
to sweep off her feet.”

  Max threw his head back with a laugh just as Cam Nash, Ivy’s brother and Ginger’s husband, approached. Cam was a totally nice guy and dreamy. He’d retired from being a world-class skier and was a ski instructor here at the lodge.

  Cam slipped his arm around Ginger’s shoulders, nodding in my direction and grinning at Max. “Ignore Ginger. She always wants to set everyone up.”

  Ginger nudged him with her elbow and took a sip of her champagne. “What’s wrong with being romantic?”

  Cam, who shared Ivy‘s coloring with amber hair and eyes, cast a smile her way. “Nothing at all, but not everyone wants to be set up.”

  Unabashed, Ginger shrugged, her eyes bouncing from Max to me. “You two match. Just saying,” she offered with a wink.

  3

  Max

  Later that night, I pulled up in front of Midnight Sun Lodges. Glancing over to Harlow, I found her sound asleep. I took a moment to absorb her. Her hair was mussed from the evening of dancing and socializing. Her dark lashes curled against her cheeks, and her face was relaxed in sleep, the lines of tension gone.

  Harlow was all kinds of temptation. Right now, I needed to get her to her room.

  Parking the car, I rounded it and carefully lifted her into my arms. She didn’t even stiffen. I held her against my chest. She sighed softly, her head tucking against my shoulder. My heart twisted sharply. I didn’t know why Harlow affected me this way.

  There was desire, but there was more under the surface. I had a burning curiosity about her. She’d shocked the hell out of me when she announced she was a firefighter. Ordering my body to behave, I carried her inside.

  I had to wake her up just long enough to find out her room number. She mumbled it against my shoulder. She was out like a light again by the time we got there. I laid her down on the bed, intending to make my exit. But then I looked at her again. Mistake.

  Her dress had ridden up around her hips, a glimpse of blue silk teasing me between her thighs. Her hair fell in a tousle on the pillows. My eyes flicked to the valley between her breasts. Her eyes opened and caught mine in the dim light of the hotel room.

  “Don’t go,” she murmured.

  She was tipsy, and I knew that. Yet, I couldn’t seem to refuse her. Not when her gaze held mine, and she beckoned me with her hand.

  Next thing I knew, I’d kicked off my shoes and shrugged out of my jacket, telling myself I would stay until she fell asleep. She started to try to take her dress off. Fuck me. This was some kind of penance I didn’t know I owed. When she got it twisted around her waist, I shackled the lust rampaging through me and helped her shimmy out of her dress. She was beyond tempting in a blue silk bra and matching panties. I yanked the covers over her.

  Clinging to my restraint, I leaned against the headboard, outside of the covers, and listened as she mumbled something about hating hotels and sleeping alone. My heart gave another twist. Any kind of emotional baggage typically sent me running when it came to women. Yet, sensing the vulnerability in Harlow only heightened my response to her.

  I meant to leave.

  The following morning, I came awake slowly, startled to realize I’d fallen asleep. Harlow was curled up against me. My cock was hard, my body very aware of the delectable woman right there for the taking. I took a deep breath, grasping onto my control.

  There weren’t many situations where my control was tested. Yet, just now, I nearly ached with need for her. Harlow was a close friend of Owen and Ivy’s, and I didn’t like things to be messy. Getting skin to skin with Harlow smacked of messy.

  There was that, and the fact that I wanted her more fiercely than I’d wanted anyone for as long as I could remember. The only woman who’d ever called to me like this had illuminated just how shallow the idea of love could be. That woman was the reason I treated relationships almost as professionally as work.

  Sex was a transaction, but as much as I wanted Harlow, I couldn’t quite think of her like that. I carefully shifted, intending to roll out of bed and make my exit quietly. The moment I started to move, Harlem shifted against me. I felt when she came awake. She sat bolt upright, her eyes flying wide open. She stared at me, her cheeks turning a delectable shade of pink.

  Her hair was a tangled mess, falling down and partially masking her breasts behind the blue silk of her bra. As I looked at her, because my eyes had a fucking mind of their own, I saw her nipples tighten, playing peekaboo with me through the dark locks of her hair.

  Fuck me.

  She gasped. “Oh my God! What are you doing here?!”

  She snatched the sheet up and tucked it under her armpits.

  Swinging my legs off the bed, I was relieved I was almost fully dressed.

  “Nothing happened, Harlow.”

  My cock strained against my fly.

  Harlow stood, turning with the sheet and wrapping it around her. I almost burst out laughing, but she looked so damn mad, I bit my tongue.

  “Why are you here?” She stood before me, looking like a fucking queen in a bed sheet, her gaze shooting daggers, and her cheeks rosy red.

  “You fell asleep on the ride back. I carried you up, and you asked me to stay.”

  I raked a hand through my hair, leaning my elbows on my knees. It bought me a moment to get my body under control. I didn’t usually have this problem. But then, I didn’t usually spend the night with women. I had sex, I went on dates, I even had a few long-term arrangements, but I never spent the night.

  I’d broken my own rule, and I hadn’t gotten anything out of it.

  “I think you should go,” Harlow said, her voice tight.

  I managed to get my cock under control by keeping my mind firmly on the numbers on my latest balance sheet from a company we’d recently acquired. They’d done a piss poor job of management, so the numbers were memorable.

  I stood on the heels of a deep breath and turned to face her again. Holy hell, she was fucking gorgeous. I’d noticed last night that she didn’t even bother with makeup, not even lipstick. Her plump, pink lips were twisted sideways as she worried the bottom corner with her teeth.

  My eyes were drawn there like a bee to honey. My cock threatened to ignore my mind again. I shifted gears, keeping my eyes locked to hers and envisioning the lines of red numbers.

  “I’m leaving now.”

  Rounding the end of the bed, I slipped my shoes on. I snagged my jacket off the back of a chair and picked up my tie.

  “Thank you for the ride,” she said, her voice stilted.

  She seemed tense and that only made matters worse. I would love to see all that tied up energy let loose. I had a feeling Harlow would be wild in bed. Too bad she didn’t fit my requirements. First and foremost, I wanted her too much. She was also a friend of a friend, and I didn’t need the complications.

  “How much longer will you be in Diamond Creek?” I asked, pausing by the door.

  Harlow held my gaze. I supposed she didn’t notice the sheet was pulled tight across her breast. I could see the tight points of her nipples. I didn’t think she would appreciate me filling her in on that tidbit.

  “Maybe a few days. You?”

  “Same. I suppose I’ll see you at the lodge then.”

  She nodded tightly. “I’ll be up later for the breakfast.”

  I bit back the urge to ask her if she wanted a ride. Leaving the hotel, I figured it might be best if I steered clear of Harlow. She was too tempting.

  4

  Harlow

  A few days after the wedding, I rolled my rental car to stop in front of Ivy and Owen’s house. I’d decided to take Ivy up on her offer to stay at their place. Aside from craving the peace and quiet, I planned to follow up on a job lead. A position had opened up on a hotshot firefighting team in a town a few hours north of here.

  I needed something to help me cut loose from my father. Being in his vicinity made it hard to withstand his constant criticism. I had no doubts about what I wanted. I didn’t want to work for his company
. All he cared about was money. The only reason he wanted me to work for his company was to control what happened to it after he died.

  I wanted no part of it.

  When he’d learned about my hotshot training, he’d scoffed at me. Maybe it was half crazy. But I loved it. I loved the hard work, the immersion in the wilderness, and how strong it made me feel. I doubted I could do it forever. It wasn’t that kind of job. Yet, I couldn’t rely on my father for support. I didn’t want his money. I just wanted to be free of him. A job in a town about five thousand miles away might do the trick.

  Climbing out of the car, I snagged my bag out of the trunk and dug in my purse for the keys. I fit the key in the lock to the side door, only to discover it was unlocked. With a laugh, I let myself in. Kicking off my shoes, I dropped the keys on the coffee table before tossing my bag on the sofa. Their home was all space and light and comfort. It was an octagonal shape with the middle floor where you entered wide open with the exception of a door to a bathroom and laundry room at the back. The kitchen occupied one side with a curved island counter facing the living room. The master bedroom took up the entire upstairs of the home.

  I meandered downstairs to leave my bag in the guest room and returned upstairs to ascertain if I needed to make a trip to the store. Ivy had assured me I should help myself to what they had. The kitchen was well stocked, so I could settle in for now.

  After a quick shower, I elected for nothing but comfort. No one was here to see me, so I could wear whatever I wanted. That consisted of a long T-shirt that hung just past my hips, underwear and fuzzy socks. I felt like I was living on borrowed time. I had a lovely home with a spectacular view of the mountains and ocean all to myself. Heaven.

  I snagged a bottle of wine from the wine rack, reminding myself to restock it before I left. I made myself a quick dinner and stood by the windows. The mountains were stark against the sky as the sun slid down the horizon, leaving streaks of scarlet and purple in its wake. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. The tension I’d been carrying started to unwind.