She clinked glasses with me, and we both took a sip of wine.
“Wise words,” Delaney said, her fake accent fully intact. “I do hope they’re true.”
“Not mine. Shakespeare’s. And I mean to prove to you later this evening that they are very, very true.”
“Quoting Shakespeare? You are just full of surprises, Parker Scott.”
“I’m just gettin’ started, cupcake.”
21
DELANEY
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Doubling down on the whole anticipation theme, Parker didn’t so much as touch me as we shared a glass of wine in front of the fire, watching as snow continued to fall outside. When we shared leftovers for dinner with no hope of ordering out in this storm, he answered all of my questions. Asked some of his own. But was, unfortunately, the perfect gentleman.
At one point I considered making the first move myself, but it became almost a test of wills. I could restrain myself as well as the next guy. Parker being the next guy in this particular situation.
But enough was enough.
“What do you think?” I asked him as we cleaned up the kitchen. “Time for that spiked hot cocoa now that the sun is down?” Before he could answer, I bolted from the kitchen and up the stairs, calling down, “Last one in their suit is a rotten egg.”
Nothing like a bikini to push the balance of power a bit.
Changing into my suit, I took a peek in the full-length mirror. As much as I wanted to cover up with a towel, that didn’t jive with my goal of getting Parker to make good on his chair lift promises. Instead, I grabbed a towel and carried it out of the bedroom with me.
His bedroom door was closed across the hall. Peeking over the balcony and not seeing Parker downstairs, certain he was inside, I walked to the door and lifted my fist to knock. At that exact moment, his door opened.
Standing in front of me with nothing on but his bathing suit, Parker also carrying a towel, whatever I’d planned on saying to him fled straight out of my head. He looked me up and down, as I’d just done to him.
Remembering the sweet torture of the past few hours he’d put me through, I decided a taste of his own medicine was in order. Spinning from him, making sure to give Parker an unobstructed view of my backside, I hurried away and smiled to myself, hearing Parker’s mumbled epithet.
“Hot chocolate and Baileys?” I asked, pulling two coffee mugs from the kitchen cupboard.
“Something tells me I’m being punished,” Parker said as he emerged from the stairwell into the kitchen. I’d lit a candle on the center of the island, and with just a few lamps and the fireplace for light, the place was even more romantic now than it had been with a view of the storm.
“Maybe a little,” I admitted as I made our hot chocolates. “I think I want a ski chalet. I’ll admit that was never on my bucket list, but this place just has such a vibe.”
“A multi-million-dollar log cabin with a clear view of Crystal Peak? I’d say that’s probably on most people’s bucket list, skier or not.”
“Would you rather this view or the one at Heritage Hill? Of the lake?”
Finished with our drinks, I turned to catch Parker staring at my ass.
“Can I suggest a third option?” he said as I handed him a mug.
“No.” I laughed. “Has to be one of those two.”
He made another sound, and maybe, just maybe, Parker was regretting his “anticipation of pleasure is often as good as the pleasure itself” stance.
“I’d choose the lake.”
With what I was sure was the biggest smile on my face, I grabbed a towel with my free hand and made my way outside, immediately regretting not having wrapped it around me first. It was freezing, but thankfully the porch roof kept most of the snow away. Stepping through stray flakes, I made it to the hot tub.
It was only after we both scrambled into the tub that I realized it had magically uncovered itself. “When did you take the cover off?”
“When you were in the bathroom, just before you suggested coming outside,” he said, taking a sip of spiked cocoa.
