“Good, I started to get a little worried. It didn’t look like there were many shopping options in town.” He leans in and drops a quick kiss onto my mouth, which causes my knees to go a little weak, and I sag into the wall behind me. “I’m gonna grab the rest, I’ll be right back.”
“’Kay.” I push off the wall, closing the door behind him so we don’t let too much cold air inside.
I move from the entryway and go deeper into the house. Even though the house is flooded with natural light from the abundance of windows, I still flick on all the lights as I go. Where the outside is flawless, the inside is a little dated. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s still beautiful, but I can’t help but slip into a daydream where this is my house and I imagine all the changes I would make. The wood-burning stove would definitely stay, but the floors would be gone. I picture the window treatments I would hang to frame this perfect view and the comfy couch I’d put in the living room. I see me and Maxwell getting our Chip and Jo on as we gutted the kitchen.
“How’d you find this place?” Maxwell walks over to me, slowly unwrapping his scarf from around his neck. Something this normal is not meant to be sexual at all, but he looks so damn sexy that I have to pinch my arm to force myself to focus.
“I come up here every year and I always see this place. I was pretending I wasn’t the boss at work the other day and looking at Airbnb. When I saw it was available, I couldn’t pass up my opportunity to stay here.”
This story is only half-true.
I was bored and wasting time on the Internet. But I wasn’t at work since it was Christmas.
Maxwell spent the day with TK, Poppy, and Ace. I know this not only because I was invited, but also because Ace got an iPhone—something TK now owes Poppy for—and Ace spent the entire day flooding my phone with selfies and videos. It was almost cute enough to thaw my frozen heart.
Almost.
“Thank you for bringing me along.” He tosses his scarf and jacket onto the recliner in the corner, and his bare feet pad across the tile until he reaches me. He brings his face in so close that I just know he’s going to kiss me again. My eyes flutter shut in anticipation and my lips part. “What are we doing today?” he asks instead of kissing me.
“Ummm . . .” I blink a few times, trying to get myself together and remember the answer, because we really do have an itinerary. What can I say? I love planning vacations. I glance at the clock and realize it’s later than I thought. “Shoot! Go get changed! Warm clothes and snow boots.”
Hopefully having him dressed in layers will lower my need to jump his bones all the time. But I seriously doubt it.
Thirty-four
“Hi! I’m Brynn, we’re here!” I slam my door shut and run to the bearded man standing outside a nondescript log cabin that I totally would’ve missed if not for my handy navigation. “So sorry we’re late, the roads were worse than I expected.”
And also, Maxwell got carsick from all the twisting and turning up the mountain roads, but I figure that’s a detail he’ll want to keep between us.
“Not a problem,” he says, his gruff voice exactly what I was hoping for from the mountain man. “During this season, we actually put you on the schedule for thirty minutes after the time you booked for that reason.” His eyes glance over my shoulder, and his posture changes instantly. “Holy crap! You’re Maxwell Lewis!”
Figures.
I had hoped he would go unnoticed in the small mountain town, but the Mustangs are an integral part of Colorado culture.
“I am, but please, call me Max,” Maxwell says, his voice a little weaker than normal as he extends a hand to greet our tour guide. “Nice to meet you . . . Sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”
“Cary,” he says, introducing himself to Maxwell even though I’m the one who set up the freaking tour. “Sorry, man, we’ve never had a Mustangs player up here before. I’m a little starstruck. But lucky for you guys, the dogs don’t watch football.” Cary laughs at his own joke.
“Dogs?” Maxwell’s eyes widen and he looks at me with a mix of excitement and fear plastered across his perfect face.
“Dogsledding!” I yell, jumping up and down, little bursts of snow exploding beneath my feet. As much as I love surprising people, I suck at keeping secrets. It’s why I do most of my shopping last minute, because there’s no way I can wait an entire month before giving someone their gift.
“Seriously?” I see apprehension cross his face, and he’s probably thinking about how well he didn’t handle the car ride and imagining that same thing . . . but with dogs. Even I have to admit that sounds terrible.
“I’ve never done it before, but I’ve heard great things.” I move closer so I can talk to him without Cary being all the way in our business. “I think the cool air will stop you from feeling sick like in the car, but if you do, I’m sure they’ll know how to handle it.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods his head anyways. “All right, Cary,” he says. “Show us these dogs.”
“Let’s do it.” Cary turns on a booted heel and starts power walking up a narrow path that someone did the very minimum to shovel. Not that I can blame them, shoveling is freaking hard.
The sounds of dogs barking are audible long before the sled and team of ten dogs come into view, but when we see them, I think even Maxwell’s reservations are forgotten. Ten dogs, all different colors, lose their minds when they see us. Their tails are wagging like crazy, as if we’re doing them a favor by letting them pull us around the mountain. The sled behind them is surprisingly small and vaguely reminds me of a shopping cart that’s been chopped down with its sides covered in fabric.
“So, Max, I’m going to have you climb in here first, and once you’re comfortable, we’ll get Brynn right in front of you,” Cary instructs, putting his fandom aside to get us all set.
Maxwell grabs the glasses we picked up at a gas station on the way up here and settles them on his face. It’s true that everyone looks hotter in sunglasses, but it’s extra true in Maxwell’s case. I spend more time than I’ll ever admit trying to find a pair of sunglasses that don’t screw up the dimensions of my face, and this jerk just snatches a pair off the rack and looks like a freaking sunglasses model. Aside from famine and war, this might be the most unfair thing in the entire world.
“Are you all good?” Cary asks Maxwell and breaks my sunglasses trance.
“All good.” Maxwell pats his thighs. “Climb on in, Boss.”
I roll my eyes at the nickname to hide the thrill I get at the thought of sitting in Maxwell’s lap for the next hour and a half. But when I sit down and feel him already hardening against my ass, I realize I’m not the only one excited by the thought.