“I see,” Dexter says with an impressed nod. “Very inventive.”
Why does it sound like everything coming out of the guy’s mouth is just part of his schtick? He doesn’t understand this place or why I care so much to build a resort out of it. He doesn’t see a cabin set on the water as the treasure it is. He doesn’t see the beauty in his natural surroundings. No, Dexter Van Clark is a greedy man in a fancy suit who cares more about his bottom line than the camp he’s been hired to save.
My judgments might be harsh, but I can’t picture Hope working for the man. I certainly can’t imagine her bending to his rules. Hope is a woman who writes her own rules.
“She’s right this way.” I lead Dexter through the main building, past the front desk, into the staff room then out into the hall that leads to my office.
I push open the door, halfway expecting to find Hope long gone. I would have covered for her. But she’s there, eyes wide, with a dazzling smile on her face.
“Mr. Van Clark, what a pleasant surprise.” She stands and walks around her desk to extend a hand.
He takes it and shakes it slowly. An intimidation tactic, I’m sure. “I was heading out for a business trip when I thought to stop in on my favorite up-and-coming project manager and meet my new client.” His gaze settles on me again while his hand remains gripping Hope’s. An ugly feeling snakes through my chest, but I can’t quite make sense of it.
“I wouldn’t have known that Hope is an ‘up-and-coming’ anything with the way she’s been handling things around here,” I say. “Seems to me she’s already arrived. I am impressed with her ideas and execution.”
Dexter gives me a curious smile, like he’s onto the fact that I just had my face buried between Hope’s thighs. “As you’ve mentioned several times today. Believe me, I’m very happy to hear that hiring Urgency has been beneficial to your needs.” He releases Hope’s hand and smiles. “I’d love to see where we’re at with everything.”
“Well,” Hope starts while making her way back around the desk. Her entire demeanor has reverted right back to the day she got to camp. So poised and professional. All traces of my former bubbly employee are gone. “Branding has been approved, which was the most important step last week. The website refresh is almost complete. I’ve also prepared a social-media plan for the next three months that Mr. Bexley and I will review today. Now, we’re focused on ordering signage, putting together direct mail and online advertising campaigns, and finalizing the plans for the grand reopening event. It’s all been smooth sailing.”
Her brilliant smile that follows triggers my own smile. She’s always been quite stunning, but there’s something otherworldly about her when she’s passionate about something. That’s why I’d always relied on Hope when it came to event planning. It was like she could read my poorly formulated thoughts and make them come to life in a way no one else could.
Dexter begins to look through everything as though there’s time for him to change what I’ve already approved. It’s insulting to both Hope and me, but Hope seems to be taking it all in stride. She must be used to the micromanaging prick, which explains the hard shell she wore when she stepped onto camp.
Another alert comes through the speakers, drawing my eyes to the security monitors once again to reveal a delivery truck making its way through the gates. “Excuse me while I sign for a delivery. Mr. Van Clark,” I say, turning to him. “We have other offices if you’d like one.”
Dexter looks around the room, his eyes settling on the couch pressed against the window. “No need. I can set up my things in here with Hope.” He checks his watch. “I’ll need to take off again tonight, but how about dinner before I go?” He looks between us both.
I can’t help but look at Hope first, assessing her reaction. She looks uncomfortable even though she’s wearing a smile. The faster I can get her douche of a boss out of here, the better. But I also don’t see the harm in having dinner with the man. It will only give me more time to provide Hope with all the glowing feedback she deserves.
“Dinner it is. If we eat early enough, we can get you on the nine o’clock ferry before the storm blows in. The last one runs after eleven, and they might shut it down if the weather is bad enough.”
Dexter waves a hand. “I’d rather not rush tonight. I leave from SeaTac in the morning, so I have plenty of time.”
Great, my mind rumbles.
“You don’t happen to have a spare cabin I could stay in?”
A quick shake of my head comes next. “No, sorry. Nothing else is ready right now.” I’m doing my best to contain my eagerness to get him out of here so Hope and I can continue where we left off.
Dexter grins. “Then the nine o’clock ferry it is.”
With a final look between them and a subtle nod to Hope, I turn and walk back out the door. As I start to walk, I slip my hand in my shirt pocket and run my fingers against Hope’s panties that have been burning a hole there all day. Knowing she’s without them drives me mad. I can still hear the rip of the fabric after she asked me to fuck her. My briefs are still soaked from her juices. Her scent still lingers in my mind.
The only thing anyone can say I’ve ever been addicted to is running a successful camp. But with Hope, I’m all kinds of messed up over her. She’s worse than an addiction. She’s a temptation beyond my willpower. Even before she confessed that she didn’t have a boyfriend, that she had just been seeing someone casually, it wasn’t enough to stop me from obsessing over the woman who was always meant to be mine.
Knowing that the possibility is there—that we can finally have our chance—and that every kiss, every touch, every moment together is just one step closer to our forever… I’ll never stop dreaming. I’ll never give up.
Chapter Fourteen
HOPE
It’s hard to meet Dexter’s penetrating stare, but when I do, he’s already speaking.
“Surprise.” A wicked smile blooms on his face while he extends his arms out to the sides, like he’s offering me a gift.
“Is this a work surprise or a personal surprise?” I must ask the question, considering Dexter’s weakness for intercepting all the milestones of my projects so that the final decisions are always his.
Dexter looks at the door Anderson walked out of and goes to close it. When he turns back around, his gaze darkens. “I’ve missed you, Hope. Far more than I anticipated. After last night”—he bites his bottom lip, his eyes slipping to where my thighs are still wet from Anderson’s mouth—“I simply couldn’t stay away.”
My chest constricts as panic sets in. I understand Dexter well enough to know what he expects right this very moment. “I’m flattered.” I push out a smile and take a seat behind the desk to deter him from misinterpreting my signals. “I’m glad you could make it and see the place for yourself. What do you think about camp?”
Dexter wrinkles his face a little. “Would I vacation here? Not a chance in hell. Am I impressed with what Bexley did with the place to turn up the charm? Immensely. And he seems to be overwhelmingly happy with your services.” He says this last part with a rise of his brows, as though there’s hidden meaning in his words.