“In my defense, no one answered the call box out front.”
“Because I was watching you on my phone.” He pulls out his phone, shows me the screen. Security camera footage. Of me. Climbing the fence. “I opened the gate when I saw you dangling because I was worried you’d fall and sue us.”
Oh my God. He watched the whole thing.
“You couldn’t have given a girl a warning?” I mutter, trying not to drown in humiliation.
“I’m not used to people breaking into my property. Usually, they just knock and wait.”
“Usually, I do too. Today has been an exception.” It’s deeply unfair how attractive he is. And how he’s just standing there, emotionless, while I’m mentally melting across from him.
His scent drifts over on the breeze. Crushed pine needles and dark chocolate. It’s divine, which is bad. Very bad. I cannot be attracted to Chris’s friend as well. That’s a recipe for disaster.
But damn, the mountain air must do something to men out here, because both of them look like they were carved by very generous gods.
“Look.” I try to gather my composure, which is difficult when I’m covered in mud and probably have it in my hair. “I’ll come clean. I’ve had some trust issues lately. My business partner screwed me over, and I needed to know that Chris wasn’t lying about the reindeer before I showed up tomorrow with no backup plan.”
Noel’s expression softens slightly. “That’s fair, actually. Trust is important.” He studies me, and I’m acutely aware of how disgusting I must look. “But you’re filthy. Come inside, clean up. I’ve got some clothes that’ll be too big but better than mud.”
“I can’t. I’m a mess. I’ll ruin your house.”
“The house has been through worse.” He’s already walking toward the front door. “Come on. Unless you want to drive home while covered in mud?”
He has a point.
I follow him, leaving my muddy boots outside on the porch. The door opens into a huge entryway, and I stop dead, staring.
This place is incredible.
The entrance opens into a huge great room with vaulted ceilings and exposed timber beams. A massive stone fireplace dominates one wall. The furniture is all dark leather and wood, oversized couches arranged around the fireplace, a bar setup in one corner with expensive-looking bottles on display.
Animal skins hang on the walls—elk, deer, what might be a bear. There’s a huge flat-screen TV mounted above the bar. Bookshelves line another wall.
The kitchen connects through an open archway, all stainless steel and granite counters, professional-grade appliances.
To the right, a wide staircase curves up to the second floor. Multiple hallways branch off in different directions, suggesting the house goes on forever.
This isn’t a house. This is a lodge. A very masculine, very expensive lodge.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
Noel glances back at me. “Yeah, Grandfather had a thing for grand gestures. This way.”
He leads me up the stairs, which are wide enough for three people to walk side-by-side, and down a hallway with multiple doors. He opens one, gestures me inside.
“Guest bathroom. Shower’s through there. Towels are clean. Take your time.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
“No problem.” He pauses in the doorway. “I’ll grab those clothes for you. When you’re done, come downstairs.”
Then he’s gone, and I’m alone in a bathroom that’s bigger than my bedroom.
I shower quickly, scrubbing mud out of my hair, off my skin, watching brown water swirl down the drain. Even my underwear has mud on it, so I rinse everything in the shower, wringing it out as best I can.
When I emerge wrapped in a towel, plush and expensive, I crack the door open and find a neat stack of clothes on the floor outside. Sweatpants, a T-shirt.
I grab them and change quickly, rolling the sweatpants at the ankles, tying the drawstring tight so they don’t fall off. The shirt hangs to mid-thigh, so I tie it at my hip, creating some semblance of a shape. It’s baggy and ridiculous, but it’s clean and dry, so I’ll take it.
