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Love it, in fact.
I’m a lone wolf-type and I’m good with that.
Maybe I’d make an exception for an exceptional woman, but everything would have to be spectacular— the connection, the chemistry, the sex.
Otherwise, I’m better off alone, making money and living out my adventures on my own terms.
Because I’m a loner… and the last thing I need is a plus-one.
CHAPTER3
ASHTON
That suitat the general store was an arrogant asshole, the type of man I vowed never to get involved with again.
Cocky, self-righteous, acting like he owns the whole damn world.
Which he very well may, judging by his quality threads and the expensive cologne wafting off his perfectly stubbled jaw.
Stubble I’d love to feel beneath my fingertips as I hold him tight, kissing the smugness right out of him.
Hold up. No. Absolutely not.
I have no idea where that wild idea came from, but just no.
The last thing I need right now is to get mixed up with yet another egotistical, know-it-all man. I’ve made that mistake more than once —exhibit A, Gabriel— and promised myself I’d never make it again.
Even for a quick romp, it’s one-thousand percentnot worth it.
You hear that, Ashton? Not fucking worth it.
Shoving my unbidden fantasy of the suit out of my mind, I fumble with my cell phone, searching for the text message with the door code buried somewhere deep in the sea of information the rental company sent me.
“1-7-3-2-6-D-Q-7-1-4-! Good grief, I’m never going to remember all of that…” I depress each metal button one by one until I hear the soft click of the lock give way. “And I’m in!”
Shoving through the door, I inhale the pine scent of the wood floors and rafters, the slight antiseptic bite of cleaning agents stinging my nose. At least I know it’s clean.
I drop my suitcase on the knotty wood floor, sweeping in and checking out my new space. A huge picture window lines the entire den wall, overlooking the back deck and a mountain vista. Although it’s dark outside, I know the view will be stunning in the morning.
Plus, I spot a hot tub on the corner of the deck. Perfect, because my muscles are tight and knotted with tension from driving— and fighting over the last pizza.
Throwing my groceries in the fridge, I hurry outside, shoving the cover off the shiny mahogany tub of water and cranking the heat setting up as high as it goes. The pool sputters to life, big, white bubbles breaking the surface tension of the still water.
With the hot tub percolating behind me, I pull up the door code on my cell again and punch in the numbers —all fifty million of them— then hurry upstairs to change into my suit.
The upstairs doesn’t disappoint, a spacious master bedroom down the hall with a picture window mirroring the main living area. An all-white king-sized bed sits in the center of the room, piled high with pillows, and I’m torn between soaking in the warm bubbles outside or curling up in the feathery-softness of the duvet. Given that a huge snow storm is blowing toward us, I go with the hot tub option, even though that bed looks hella comfy.
I toss my jeans and sweater on the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed, stepping into the black two-piece bathing suit I threw into my suitcase at the last second. The bottoms are skimpier than I’d like, but who cares? No one’s going to see me all the way out here.
Snagging a fluffy towel out of the gorgeous gray-and-white marble bathroom, I skip down the stairs and head to the sleek, stainless-steel wine fridge. Not that I need to use it —I hardly have any groceries in the full-sized refrigerator— but I try to use all the amenities when I travel.
Of course there’s a fancy wine opener sitting on the marble counter above the fridge, and I make quick use of it, uncorking the chilled chardy. Carrying the bottle over to the kitchen island, I open the cabinets and search for a non-glass wine tumbler. I’d hate to break glass in the hot tub— that’s a major rental no-no. I settle on a stainless-steel Spruce Ridge cup, pouring the straw-colored liquid as close to the top as I can manage, slurping at the edge to prevent sloshing.
Delish. Solid wine for a mountain general store.
I tuck my towel under my arm, scoop up my cell and wine, and head outside. The temperature’s dropped since I got here, a cold breeze whipping at my face. I toss my cell on the side table next to the hot tub, then set the wine in the convenient cupholder on the spa before sliding into the warm, bubbly water.
Heaven.
