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“It belongs to one of my mom’s friends.”
He nods. “Of course it does. Your mom knows everyone.”
I get out of the car and grab my bag. I want to see the inside of this palace in the mountains. “I don’t know if she knows everyone, but she does know someone with a kick-ass Tahoe house.”
I push the front door open and gasp.
Rake is right behind me with our duffel bags. “Holy shit,” he says, turning in a three-hundred-sixty-degree circle to take it in. “This place is massive.”
We enter the great room and the floor-to-ceiling windows overlook a little dock and the lake. We’re speechless.
Rake drops the bags and opens the back door, the scent of pines and the mountains filling the air.
“I’m getting the food out of the car.” I’ve got some wine I want to start chilling, right away.
“Did you know it would be this big? I could invite the whole team and there’d still be room to spread out.”
“I know, it’s way too huge for only two people but I figure if you get on my nerves, I can find a spot to hide.”
“Jesus. You hide in this place and you may never be seen again.”
As soon as we’re all moved in—Rake’s right, I did bring an obscene amount of food for a short trip—I pop open a bottle of champagne and pour us each a glass.
Rake raises his flute and when his eyes meet mine, I feel this sense of… being home. That’s the only way I can think to describe it. He’s dreamy, and looking at him makes me feel dreamy.
Hell, I hope this is not a dream, because if it is, I’m going to be very disappointed.
“Thank you, Petal. For this, and for everything. You’ve put up with a raft of shit the last few weeks and a lesser woman would have fled the country.”
I smirk. “Yeah, well, I thought about it a few times.”
The entire ride today, I was trying to keep my cool, not act like an idiot. You know, like I’ve got some game or something.
I so do not have any game.
I’m thirsting over this man and that’s all there is to it.
Inching up to Rake, I press my forehead against his and inhale his scent, which is really just clean soap and man. Nothing more.
And then my stomach growls, long and low and loud.
“My God. Did those Doritos not fill you up?” He pats my tummy.
“Guess not. They’re the only things I’ve eaten today. Probably not a good move to stuff my face with crap like that.”
Rake takes my champagne and sets both our glasses down. “Pretty sure a girl cannot live on Doritos alone.”
I put my hands on either side of his face, and the way he looks back at me makes me all wobbly. “Sounds like Mister Puck Head is worried about little old me.”
He brushes his lips over my temple and I swear, I gasp. It was involuntary, and I’m a little embarrassed. To Rake’s credit, if he noticed, he’s acting like he heard nothing.
“I might be a little worried about you, baby,” he says, now running kisses along the side of my neck where he pulled my hoodie away. “Can’t have you kicking the bucket before I get you back home Sunday night.”
He takes me by the hand and leads me to the fluffy rug in front of the fireplace, which takes up almost an entire wall. “Wish we could light a fire. But it’s too warm.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “It is warm. And getting warmer.”
I step back and pull off my hoodie, then the tank top I’m wearing underneath. I leave my lacy bralette on and slip down my leggings.
