Page 46 of Worth the Rush
“Alder Holloway.” She says my name like it’s an admonishment, but I don’t care how she says it as long as it’s my name she’s saying. I look her in the eyes. She’s so carefree right now. Openly teasing me and comfortable. “Do you have a crush on me?” she whispers, flirting with me. I should attempt to play it cool. Maybe I would if it were anyone but her. It is Ivy, though, so I’m blurting out the truth without much thought.
“I do,” I admit. “A big one. Huge even,” I continue. “I’ve thought about you and our night together more times than I haven’t in the last month.” My confession throws her. I can tell by the widening of her eyes and the fact that her easy smile that I’ve fallen for tonight has disappeared. She opens her mouth, then shuts it, and I try to add some levity back into our evening. “Whoa, did I render Ivy Rutherford, Queen of Sass, speechless? Color me surprised.” That earns me an eye roll.
“I’m not speechless, Search and Rescue. The problem is I have too many things to say. Most of which you already know, but maybe I should tell you again. I’m not here for very long. I’ll be gone, and you’ll forget all about your crush on me. There is no shortage of prospects who would kill for a chance with you. So please, don’t waste your time on me.”
“Any time spent on you could never be a waste, Stormcloud. I’ll take what I can get. If it’s making you orange chicken and watching a docuseries, then I’m game. If it’s showing you how you deserve to be worshiped and devoured in my bed, then I’m more than willing to do that as well,” I tell her, and I see her eyes shift from jade to a sparkling emerald at my words. She can deny it all she wants. She likes me and she likes being here. With me.
“Let’s just stick to dinner and TV tonight, hotshot,” she says quietly; her voice wavering slightly.
“I can do that,” I say, smiling.
Two hours later, we’re sprawled out on my couch. Ivy’s head is on the side opposite mine, her legs tucked up with her shins brushing against the outside of my thigh. We’ve been talking throughout our show; she finds what I do during a search and rescue interesting, and I find everything she says and does interesting. She told me about her time in SoCal, which ended up being most of her life. Her childhood isn’t painted in a very flattering light. Her mother left when she was a baby, and her father, my business partner, sounds like an absolute ass.
She hasn’t experienced enough kindness in her life. Least of all at the hands of the men in her life.
“Ivy,” I start. “I need to tell you something.” I drop my head against the back of the couch and close my eyes. “I should have told you this a while ago, but it just never felt like the right time to bring it up without it sounding like I was trying to make it sound like a jab at you.” I pause, and she remains quiet. I can’t look at her. I need to get this out before it eats me alive. “I don’t just teach snowboarding at The Edgemont—I kind of own it...er a part of it. I’m a partner in the business. With your father, it would seem.” I get it out in a rush and then just sit quietly. Waiting for the storm that I’m sure is brewing inside her at my admission. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I promise I wasn’t hiding—” My rant is cut off by a small snore. I turn my head and find Ivy asleep.
Soft nasal noises come from her. Well, shit. I guess I’ll have to find another way to tell her. I grip the blanket that’s resting at her waist and pull it up over her shoulder. I sit on the couchwith her a while longer. Unwilling to let the night come to an end. When the TV asks if I want to continue watching, I decide I should head to bed. I turn the TV off and allow myself one more moment to just look at her in the moonlight. I’ve never felt this deep tug inside me before.
If I followed it, it would always lead me to her.
I’m practically bouncing as I walk into the lodge. My not date with Ivy went better than I could have hoped. I felt like we were really getting somewhere.
When I take in the full scope of my surroundings, I’m a little taken aback by how good it looks in here. The Edgemont has been transformed into a holiday magazine spread. The trees that have been here since Ivy’s first week are still up, but now, instead of the traditional red and green, it's all golden. The bows and wreaths, the silverware laid out on the tables, the banisters leading up to the balcony that's been set up with outdoor heaters and sparkling lights; it all looks amazing. I follow them all the way up to the top, and then I see her.
She’s so beautiful. Wearing a dark-green dress that looks so soft, I want to reach out and run my hands over it, just to see what it feels like on her body. A body that looks just like it was made for studying, worshiping. The plunging neckline of her dress highlights her delicate neck that I want to lick, that I wantto bite. It’s given me and everyone here a stunning view of her cleavage.
Her hair reminds me of an old Hollywood film. It's down, and one side is pulled back with a gold clip above her ear, where a small red earring hangs. Her green eyes sparkle like emeralds, and her lips—God, her lips. They’re a deep shade of red that I want to stain my skin. I want that color all over me.
She starts down the stairs, and I remember that tonight she’s with me. She’s mine. If she wants me to play the part of the doting boyfriend, then that’s what I’ll do. Happily. I won’t be letting her out of my sight. I don’t think I’m capable. I lift my arm when she reaches the last step, and she tucks her slender hand into the crook of my elbow, giving my bicep a squeeze. She meets my eyes, and she already looks annoyed with me. Game on, baby.
“Is this arm of yours real, or is it actually carved from marble?” Her question makes me laugh. Then she teases me further, “Are you flexing for me, Lover Boy?” Her voice is taunting as she arches her eyebrow and gives me a flirty grin. So we’re flirting then? This I can do. This I’m good at. I’ve got charm in spades. She slides her free hand up my chest, and the small action is in danger of having a bigger reaction.
She stops at the base of my neck and smoothes my tie, leaning into me, pressing her toned body flush against me, whispering low so only I can hear, “I really appreciate you helping me. And please don’t misunderstand me when I say this.” She meets my eyes again, hand still on my chest, the other tucked in between us. She’s stealing up all the air just like a fire does to stay alive. “You’re really pretty, Alder. A literal Adonis.” She looks at my mouth, and I want to kiss those red lips until we’reboth a mess of crimson “But you’re really not my type.” She smiles sadly, like she isn’t the one who’s just rejected me. “You do look really nice in a suit though,” she adds wistfully.
I’m unsure what thoughts have her deciding this. I can honestly say I’ve never had a woman tell me I’m not their type, but more importantly, I don’t like that look on her face. I want to have fun with her tonight. I’m here to make this night easier for her. To be what she needs me to be, and if what she needs is to pretend because she thinks she doesn’t feel anything close to what I’m starting to, then I won’t push it…yet.
“You look nice too, princess,” I tell her, although nice is such a gross understatement that I immediately want to correct myself, but I bite my tongue. I’m not ready to show my hand just yet. Especially not coming off the heels of her letting me down easy—compliment sandwich. She snorts, and instead of letting her volley back, I decide to ask what the expectations are tonight. “So how do you want me to behave tonight?” I ask, lifting the arm she isn’t holding onto to move her hair from her shoulder.
It feels like silk in my fingers. “So soft…” I say before I can catch myself. She shivers, and I see goose bumps appear. So she isn’t completely unaffected by me then. She may not think she wants to date me, but I have a feeling she would be willing to do other things with me. She swallows, and I track the movement. Looking back at her eyes, I have to stop myself from pulling her into a dark corner when I notice they’re glassy and her cheeks are flushed.
“Like you’re obsessed with me,” she rasps.
Looking away from me, her eyes clear as she surveys the room before turning back to me and smiling sweetly. “So, howyou would normally act around me,” she throws at me with a smirk before a voice comes over the speakers announcing the silent auction is about to begin.
We walk over toward the entrance, and Ivy greets almost every guest walking in. She’s good at this. I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s told me time and time again that she’s capable. Before tonight, I would have believed that but in a way of her being capable of commanding an army, of bringing an army to their knees before her. This, though, this version of her, it’s commanding in a different way. A more subtle one. It feels dangerous. It’s charming and endearing. Another piece of the puzzle for me to file away for later when my thoughts are consumed by her. Just like they have been since the moment I met her.
“Thank you so much for coming out and supporting our event tonight. Please let me know if there’s anything you need tonight, and enjoy your evening,” she tells Mrs. Anderson, the town gossip, as Sue enters the main room in the lodge.
I bend slightly and whisper into her ear, “Sue will be talking about this event for weeks, possibly until next year.” She smiles at my words.
“I know,” she tells me. “She’s on the town's event committee that you put me in touch with, and I was advised to make sure she would be in attendance.” She’s pleased with herself, and I like the way it looks on her. I want to see how she would look if she was pleased by me.
“Lucky for you then that you have me,” I say, willing it to be true. She laughs at that.
“Oh yes, lucky me.” She bats those long lashes at me. “What would I do without a big, strong man to help little old me?” she asks me in an exaggerated Southern drawl. Thatcould be something I think about later as well. Why is everything this woman does so freaking sexy?
“You don’t have to find out, sugar,” I say back, doing my best cowboy impression. I even tip my fake hat to her. She laughs loudly, head tilted back, mouth wide open. With that laugh, any chance I had at pretending I’m not half in love with her is out the window. I’m screwed. A waiter walks by and offers us each a flute of champagne. I grab two glasses and hand her one.
