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“Open it and find out,” she says and I do, gasping when I see an all-expense paid spa package with my name on it.
“Um…Claire?” I ask, confusion knitting my brows as she hugs my shoulders.“It’s for you. We had a little extra spending in the books for this month and everyone agreed that you needed to get away for a little while. You’ve been working your ass off since you got here Ali, and you deserve it,” she says, but I shake my head in refusal.
“No, I can’t accept this. The men and you work harder than me. You guys deserve this, not me,” I say, but she shakes her finger in my face, pointing at the package.
“You pay us weekly for the work we do, a handsome amount as well. Do you get paid for the work you do?” she asks, and after thinking on it, I really don’t.
I’ve been trying so hard to get us caught up after my dad’s death, that I haven’t really been able to see a flow of money coming in.
“You leave tonight and come back Monday morning. It’s this nice place out in Yellowstone. They have massages, a library, even horseback riding and lessons,” she says with a wink and I laugh.
They’ve been trying to get me back on a horse since I’ve been here, but I’d much rather pet and walk with them.
“Claire, I don’t know what to say…” I start, but she just grabs me and pushes me towards the stairs.
“Don’t say anything. Just get packing and get going. Check in is in an hour.”
“What about Beau? What about the horses and the gardens?” I protest, but she just crosses her arms and stares at me.
“Marley has help at the clinic now and I am more than capable of watering and taking care of a dog. Rob has already agreed to help with the horses,” she says and I sigh, climbing the stairs slowly as she scoffs behind me.
“Go!” she shouts and I do, running up the stairs to pack for the little getaway that I more than need right now.
* * *
The drive to the lodge isn’t long, but it’s all the way up in the mountains. Claire told me to pack warm clothes, but I didn’t expect to see snowcaps this early in the fall. When I hop out of my truck, suitcase in hand, I walk to the large, wooden lodge and inside the glass doors, staring at the prettiest crystal chandelier I’ve ever seen. There’s fireplaces and comfy couches, people lounging and drinking. I walk to the check-in desk and hand the girl my information. She checks me in, hands me my keycard and says that I will take the elevator all the way up to the penthouse suite. My eyes widen, but I do as instructed.
When I get to the top and open my door, I gasp at the sight before me. The suite is large, set with a living room, a large bedroom with a log, canopy bed and a bathroom that not only has a double door shower, but a jacuzzi tub as well. I squeal and drop my bags, running to the wall of windows and staring out of them in wonder, the snowcap mountains smiling back at me.
Before I can even get settled in or catch my breath, there’s a knock at my door and I wonder if I left my license down at the check-in desk. I wouldn’t put it past my stressed-out brain. “Sorry, did I leave something?” I swing open the door, freezing as I lock eyes with Hunter’s black and shiny boots before my gaze travels and locks with his.
He holds a bag of Chinese food up, a smirk on his lips and the smell of wontons wrapping around my nostrils, making my stomach growl in excitement as my brain spins in confusion.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, skeptical.
“Figured you wanted some dinner after your long trip,” he says, his eyes roaming over me.
“And how did you know about my long trip?” I ask.
“I followed you,” he says simply, walking past me and unpacking the food on the counter as I shut the door and stare at him in shock.
28
“You followed me?!”I gasp, walking behind him and pulling my cardigan across my chest, shielding my cleavage from his wandering eyes.
He meets my gaze with such dark intensity, I tremble from it.
“Yes. Now sit down, so I can make you your plate,” he orders, getting two plates from the counter and piling on rice, orange chicken and wontons as my stomach growls.
I sit across from him, eyeing him as he pulls a bottle of red wine from a bag, along with two wine glasses from the liquor cart, before he fills them and hands me one with my plate of steaming food as well.
“Do you like Merlot?” he asks, swirling his wine and sniffing it before sipping it slowly, eyes locked with mine as he swallows, and I shift in my seat to ease the sudden ache from between my thighs.
“Do you?” I ask, wondering how in the hell he knows how to treat an expensive bottle of wine.
“I prefer a nice cab, but I’ve had this since my last trip to Napa, so it will do,” he says casually, shoving a forkful of rice past his full lips before devouring the rest of his meal.
“You go to Napa?” I ask, eating slowly as I watch him with careful eyes.
