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“It’s different because we won’t see each other for weeks, maybe months at a time! You’re going to walk around all wound up from the kink going on around you, and there’ll be women chasing you, and I won’t be close by to work out your frustration on.” Her eyes had grown very serious and a little sad. “We probably should keep our relationship open so you have options.”
“I don’t want options. I’ve had nothing but options all my life. Why would I push for an exclusive relationship with you if that wasn’t what I wanted?”
She leaned in and brushed her lips over his, but pulled away before he could deepen the kiss.
“I think you’re not thinking things through.”
“I think what happened with Nigel is making you doubt me.”
She shrugged. “Maybe,” she admitted, “but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“I would never betray you.”
“You wouldn’t mean to. Sometimes things just happen.” She cleared her throat and looked away. “I guess if you wanted an open relationship later we could always renegotiate when it comes up.”
Anger flared, but he tamped it down. Losing his temper wasn’t going to lead to a satisfactory resolution when it came to this conversation. It wasn’t him she was so sure would cheat, it was just her instinctive reaction to being exclusive again, right?
“Well, I’ve been faithful to you for the past year or so without any agreement between us about exclusivity. I think that’s got to count for something.”
She nodded, gnawing on her bottom lip but still not able to meet his gaze.
“I could sell it,” he blurted.
Her gaze snapped back to him and she glared. “You think I’d let you sell this place because of me? We started dating five milliseconds ago, Ellis. That doesn’t make any sense. You were looking for something of your own to take care of—something to do with your life. I’ve seen how happy you are here. I wouldn’t take all of that away from you. It’s an awesome business concept and I think you’re going to make a shitload of money.”
“If I have to choose between this place and you, there’s no competition.”
“If you sell this place because of me, I’ll never speak to you again.”
“Sounds like every man’s ideal relationship,” he said, winking at her.
“I’m serious! If you sell this place because of me our relationship is over. You can’t make your life all about me. That’s just as bad as me making my entire life about you. Relationships end. Building your life entirely around another person isn’t safe.” She glared at him with earnest ferocity.
Although he wanted to argue with her, he couldn’t come up with any examples of long-term couples who were still happy together. Lord only knew his own parents hadn’t been happy, and even his father and Kim had a cold, distant relationship by the time he and Will had left home. That was probably to be expected, considering the fact that their father was an asshole and Kim was worse. Sure, they had friends who’d been together for a few years, but that wasn’t the same as having some elderly couple to point to as evidence of long-term true love being possible.
“We’ll make it work.” He finally said, hoping he was right. With things between them being so new he had no way of knowing whether even a week apart would end their relationship. If things ended, though, it wouldn’t be because of him. Not after he’d been hoping for so long to wear her down and get her to agree to this.
* * *
* * *
After a few days spent cataloguing the supplies he’d need before opening the lodge to the public, Grant had to admit there wasn’t much missing aside from getting signs made and some kink equipment brought in.
Oh, and hiring staff.
In the evenings, while Arabella talked with Andromeda through long, dreary details about Evil Pixie’s beer garden plans, he worked on job ads and posted them online. Surprisingly, he’d received many responses right away even though it was seasonal work—teachers, college students, and various types of self-employed kinksters were only too eager to make some extra money over the summer at a vacation spot with free room and board.
When dark fell on their last night alone together, and the Dread Queen of Mosquitoes had called her minions home, they ventured out to the huge stone patio. Grant wrapped Arabella in a blanket and sat her in one of the big Adirondack chairs as though she was a doll that needed to be taken care of, then worked on remembering how to go about setting up a proper campfire.
“I can’t believe the mosquitoes are gone again,” Arabella said for maybe the fifth time since they’d ventured outside. “They vanish with a swirl of their evil cloaks, twirling their tiny mustaches.”
He chuckled, loving that she got just as ridiculous as he did sometimes. “Maybe the Dread Queen has imposed a curfew. It seems like they’re at their worst around sundown.”
“Like the little vampires they are,” Arabella replied. “Maybe we should be shopping for bug repellent laced with spray-on silver. Although, the stuff from the gift shop here seemed to work really well compared to what I picked up at the pharmacy back home.”
“Back home we don’t have mosquitoes that regularly dine on moose. I think it affects their DNA.”
“I bet mother moose have to hide their babies at sundown to make sure the mosquitoes don’t carry them off.”
