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I don’t think anyone noticed.
Except for the only person who matters.
Serena’s flushed cheeks and quivering breath tell me everything I need to know.
I want to brush her blond bangs back behind her ears, to hold her hand and tell her so many things.
But Greg’s already talking over both of us, going on about some surprise he has in store for me.
If I needed a surprise, it would be the one where Greg says he has to leave me and Serena alone in the woods for about… oh, I dunno… the rest of our lives.
The crotchety old woman’s followed us, interrupting Greg just as he’s about to announce something important.
“Oh, Mr. Blaxhall? Mister Blaxhall! I forgot to tell you…”
All three of us look over to her, and I can see she’s got a smug grin she’s trying to hide which has me figuring it’s bad news.
“Well?” Greg asks, hating it when he’s interrupted and hating surprises just as much as I know I do.
“Your other friend. She won’t be joining you after all. Left late yesterday, apparently,” she says with mock sympathy, scrunching her nose when she looks from Greg to me.
I look over to Serena, watching her sink back into her chair.
The look on her face is far more smug than the look this old cow could ever put on.
“Greg?” I ask him with some annoyance now. “What’s going on?”
Chapter Five
Serena
I don’t think I’ve ever had better news.
Not ever in my whole life.
To think, that plastic Witch Barbie isn’t even here anymore, let alone anywhere near Carter, nor will she be for the whole time we’re here.
I’m on cloud nine and don’t even care when a small sound escapes me advertising the fact.
I sink back into the heavy dining chair, watching Carter’s huge body flex under his clothes as he asks dad what’s going on.
I couldn’t have planned it better myself either, and for some reason, the old woman who runs the lodge seems just as happy.
But she’s no threat. I’ve seen the look Carter gives her already.
His eyes meet mine, filled with frustration and annoyance until I cock a brow and watch his dark, smoldering pools soften to something new.
Something else that sends as much a shiver up my spine as when I felt his huge hands on me, and that huge cock of his stabbing me in my softness.
“You mean Wendy?” my dad asks, and the old woman nods gravely this time, but still hiding a smile I know my dad doesn’t like.
“She did, I’m afraid. Paid-up though… no returns on advance payments as per our policy, you understand. But her bill isn’t your own. Can I get you your menus now?” she asks.
My dad’s slunk back into his chair too, disbelief but of a different kind of my own.
“Was… was anything wrong?” he asks suddenly. “Was Wendy alright?” he presses her.
“Humph! Looked fine to my boy when she left, according to him. Made some story up about too much snow and having other things, other places to be. All I know,” the old woman says defiantly.
“Greg? How ‘bout you fill me in on just what’s supposed to be going on?” Carter drawls suspiciously. Hauling himself upright in his chair, dwarfing all of us including the old lady who’s still standing nearby.
His eyes move to mine again but they’re firm.
He’s in charge now, I can tell. And so can my dad.
Carter obviously doesn’t like surprises, and the one my dad planned has backfired.
I watch him knead his fist with his other hand as he waits for an answer, eyeing me with nothing less than what I could only describe as…
Triumph.
“I’ll fetch your menus, folks,” the old woman murmurs, scuttling away as I notice Carter holding my dad’s gaze.
Dad blows out a huge puff of air between his cheeks, reaching for his phone.
“Alright, slick. Keep your hair on, I was trying to surprise you with something,” he says, slowing his own words and pushing the phone over to Carter; the image of that blond bimbo filling it.
“I don’t understand,” Carter observes, making my dad twitch and give a little nervous laugh.
“I was trying to do a little harmless matchmaking, Carter. That’s all.” Dad confesses, noting Carter as he shoves the phone back towards him, a look of revulsion on his face as his eyes only glance past me.
“Is this what the whole trip was about?” Carter asks dad, his voice hissing to a whisper as he stabs at the phone again with his thick finger.
He’s mad, and the vein thicker than his finger in his neck tells me his pulse is as hard as mine as I watch him in action, but for different reasons.
“Carter… I was just trying to-” my dad croaks, looking as hurt as he sounds.
“Well, I don’t need you to run my love life, Greg. Never have and never fucking will. How dare you,” he says loudly, openly scolding my dad, his dearest friend before shooting me a look of…
