Page 25 of Wrapped in Winter


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Reuben checks an expensive-looking watch. “There’s time for one,” he claims. “I could murder a whiskey.”

There’s a rumble of agreements, so I collect some ice from the freezer and get pouring. Between Luca and I, the bottle has already depleted, but two spares wait in the cupboard in readiness for the extra guests.

“Have one too,” Luca encourages.

Reuben watches our exchange with failingly obvious intrigue, incapable of subtlety, while Brecken regards me more dispassionately. Still, their weighted looks feel too knowing, too anticipatory. They’re also handsome men, men I would be flirting with if they weren’t Luca’s friends, or if I had met them by chance in a bar.

Despite most of my years in this industry being behind the scenes, I’ve learned to work people out quickly. And with some help concerning group dynamics from Emily and Betsy, I think I’ll have these men all worked out over the next few days.

Already, I’m guessing that Brecken, with his light brown locks and intellectual gaze, is the sigma of the group. He’s an alpha in his own right, overseeing his group of one. More distant than the others, his detachment doesn’t make him any less charismatic, or weak. He’s probably extremely discerning and patient, a man entirely comfortable in his domain. And while his face is less sharp when compared to Luca’s, his eyes cut from couch to door to antlers to light fixtures as he absorbs every tiny detail. And his hair falls onto his brow a lot, something I find endearing. It’s almost boyish, though there’s nothing youthful about the way he carries each and every pound of trim muscle.

Yeah, he’s gorgeous. Indifferent, but stunning.

And then there’s Reuben with his glowing, light brown skin and proud stature. His amber-hued eyes are like quicksilver, bright and engaging, his mouth a perfect cupid’s bow that could one hundred percent tempt me. Square-jawed, he has a super-hero vibe coming off him and it makes me hella hot.

Fuck yeah, I’d do him too.

With a secret smile all for me, I pour myself a small whiskey and drop in an ice cube to water it down. Keeping my head is going to be important with these hotties roaming the rooms, and I don’t need to get loose-lipped, or start ogling the guests. Luca and I have an understanding, one that ensures my job survival—my job prospects—and I’m keen not to lose the ground I’ve made. Still, I can’t ignore the atmosphere that seems to tighten and tighten. And it’s not the strained, angry kind, but the sexual kind, my body responding to it. Damp heat floods my core. My nipples tighten. And my breasts feel ridiculously full and heavy.

When I let my eyes hop from one to the other to the next, all I see is a trifecta of beautiful masculinity. Luca seems to be the most relaxed amongst the three, sharing conversation with Reuben that sounds work-related. And while Reuben seems to watch me with bated breath, it’s Brecken whose approval I feel I need.

Quietly, I watch him move around the space, peering through the doors outside before he wanders back towards his friends. Towards me. Trying to catch his attention leaves me toxic with nerves and inappropriateness, my specialty. But damn, I want those steel-blue eyes on me, appraising me, liking what he sees.

Suddenly, those eyes slice towards me, searing me with an intensity that has me rocking back on my heels.

Fuck. I feel like a pin at the bowling alley, knocked flying.

Luca casts me a curious look. I smile away my discomfort.

“Cheers,” Reuben toasts, that tension thankfully breaking, but it lingers, like smoke. “To some epic skiing.”

“To epic skiing.”

“To some fun,” Luca tacks on, my eyes flying to his. He arches a brow as he returns my probing gaze.

Taking control of the situation, I start, “I hope you have a great stay. The prospects lookreally good.”

For the first time in a long time, I blush. My cheeks burn hot at the innuendo. “The pistes are in great condition,” I continue, because thatiswhat I was thinking of, nothing at all about their tall, muscular bodies hovering over mine. “And we’re due snow right up until Christmas.”

“According to my app, there could be as much as fourteen, maybe sixteen more inches by Christmas Day,” Reuben says, a mischievous look on his face.

My heart balloons with shock. With want. Luca swallows a smile, so I know I’m not misunderstanding Reuben’s intentions or innuendo. It’s an icebreaker. A show of interest rather than a threat, unless I want to view it as one…

Which I don’t. At all.

Still, I don’t want to come across as easy. “Weather reports tend to misinform,” I say, holding his eye.

“My information is one hundred percent accurate,” Reuben replies, those dimples showing.

Spinning the bowl of ice, I tell him, “Well, we’ll see if your confidence was warranted in a few days.”

“Yeah, we will,” he says, leaning across the counter, closer to me, and ensnaring me with a panty-melting look. “It’s going to happen. Inches deep in snow.”

It’s difficult to tuck away a frisson of nerves. There’s some blatant, immediate interest, but I’m not entirely sure if consent features here. I mean, I’m pretty sure it would, based on my interactions with Luca so far, but it seems that Reuben is up to party, and is expecting me to be as well. And the idea of consent being a gray area shouldn’t make me feel so excited.

But I’m confident that Luca has been talking about me. Sexually. Maybe that’s what he and Reuben discussed last night—I did only hear one side of the conversation.

Finishing his whiskey, Luca says, “We’re going to explore. Do you want to come?”

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