Page 57 of Artfully Wild
We’ve visited this resort before on several family vacations, but it’s been a few years since we’ve been back. Between my traveling and Sarah getting sick, we never had the chance to make it back as a full family again. But since we were regular visitors for years, Dad became very friendly with the owner and I think he’s probably the reason I was even contacted about buying the store. A favor for an old friend.
“Stop what you’re thinking right now,” Jacob mutters into my ear, placing a hand on my lower back. “You earned this opportunity. No one is serving you a deal on a silver platter. You happen to have a connection. But that doesn’t discredit allthe hard work you have done over the years. This isyouraccomplishment. A well-deserved one, at that. But it’s not a favor.”
I avoid his gaze, because the last thing I want to do is admit he’s right even though he knows he is. Instead, I lean into his warmth and he envelops me in his arms before we continue our short trek to the wraparound porch. He stops us in front of the door and does the familiar action I know so well. I wonder how many dead, dried out flower petals rest at the bottom of his inside jacket pocket. A large, white flower is in his hand as he holds it out to me.
“A magnolia for luck. You can do this, sweetheart.” I take the flower and embrace him tightly, silently thanking him for being here.
When we walk inside, memories come flooding back of Hudson, Sarah, and me chasing each other around the porch as Mom and Dad sat around the outdoor fireplace, stocking up on snowballs to chuck at us as we passed. We go through the wooden double doors and the scent of pine is stronger here. To the right sits another stone fireplace with a couch and a few lounge chairs surrounding it. I can almost see Sarah sitting in one closest to the fireplace, book in her lap and feet hanging over the side with a cup of hot cocoa resting on the coffee table. I pat the back of my backpack slung on my shoulders until I feel the reassuring presence of Sarah’s book. It’s been a few days since I last opened it, but I’m hoping with a weekend of no work allowed, I can get a few chapters in. It takes a lot longer to get through a chapter with all of Sarah’s notes and thoughts crammed into the margins and folded notes stuffed between the pages. I have to pause every once in a while and get Jacob’s opinion on what a word could be, because I can’t read it.
A few kids come bounding down the stairs off to the right and race through the other set of couches to head outside. Two middle-aged women follow a few feet behind, weighed downwith ski gear. “Ugh, I miss when I had their energy,” the one with light blonde hair groans. The woman next to her smiles and places a quick kiss on her lips. “Yes, but at least they look like you.”
The blonde laughs and nods her head in agreement as they follow their kids outside, pulling on their gloves and ready to embrace the cold. My heart warms at the family and suddenly I get a flash of Jacob and I coming down the stairs, exhausted from a night with two kids staying up way past their bedtimes watching movies and filling up on buttery popcorn.
“What are you thinking about now?” Jacob asks, following my gaze to the now empty stairs.
I look a second longer and shake myself out of thoughts of the future. At least, not a future that far ahead. There is one that is a bit nearer that needs my attention. Ignoring his question—avoiding it is the more accurate word—I close the distance to the front desk and make eye contact with a dark-haired receptionist. She throws her long braid over her shoulder and pushes the sleeves of her blue flannel further up her arms.
“Hello, welcome to Mountain Peak Lodge. How can I help you today?”
I glance at her name tag. “Hi, Melanie. We are checking in for the weekend.”
“Name?”
“It should be under Skylar Waters.”
Without bothering to look at the computer, Melanie grabs for the phone and dials an extension. “She’s here, sir,” is all she says before she hangs the phone up and threads her fingers together. “Mr. Camp will be right down.”
“Oh, thank you.” Jacob leads me to the sitting area we walked by a few minutes ago and we sit on one end of the sofa.
My knee starts fidgeting and I twist my hands together, which are sweaty despite the cool air rushing in from guests going outside. Jacob places a hand on my thigh to steady it,tracing small circles with his thumb. I focus on my breathing and try to calm my spiraling thoughts.
“I hope there’s a hot tub outside our room,” Jacob says suddenly.Thatcertainly gets my attention.
“Why?” I whisper.
He leans in until his lips are pressed to the shell of my ear. He places a light kiss behind it before whispering back. “Because I like to imagine you naked in the hot water, the bubbles from the jets hiding what my hand is doing underneath. I’d make you come on my fingers, but I’d make you beg for it first. You’d be screaming my name for the whole mountain to know that I’m the one coaxing those sounds out of you.”
My cheeks heat as he nips my ear lobe before pulling away with a sly smile on his face. A swoop low in my belly has me craving whatever room they have ready for us. I want to stay there with the door donned with a Do Not Disturb sign for the whole weekend.
“Ah, Miss Waters, there you are,” a booming voice sounds behind us. I jump up and try to think of anything other than the words Jacob whispered in my ear, hoping all traces of redness on my face are gone by the time I get around the couch.
“Mr. Camp,” I smile. “It’s been a long time.” He holds out his arms for a hug and I embrace him tightly. He was like a grandfather to us and seeing him again makes me feel more than I expected.
“Far too long, in my opinion, Miss Waters. And you know you can call me Nathanial. Or Camp. Whichever you prefer. You being here makes me think of the days you kids used to come and tear up the place.”
“You never could catch us,” I joke.
He moves to reach out a hand to Jacob. “It’s nice to see you again too, Jacob. The last time you were here, I think you were following this one around,” he says, giving me an affectionate squeeze with the arm still around my shoulders.
Jacob smiles. “I still am, sir.” His expression is light, but when his eyes come in contact with mine, I can see the heat behind them and I am transported back to the RV parked at Devil’s Lake under the covers with him between my legs. The corner of his lips lift like he knows exactly where my mind went. If he didn’t before, the heat under my skin gives me away completely.
Mr. Camp’s expression changes as he looks at Jacob like he’s going to ask what exactly his intentions are with me. “Well, let’s get you checked into your rooms then,” he says instead, like he’s testing the waters for what Jacob will do with separate rooms.
“Sounds good,” Jacob responds.
He walks over to the receptionist and grabs the keys for our rooms. He hands mine to me, a pine tree shaped key chain hanging from the ring along with the key. “We have you in the biggest suite upstairs. Fully equipped kitchen, king bed, balcony view with a hot tub and a stocked closet with skis and snowboards for you to use over the weekend at your leisure.”
I shake my head and avoid Jacob’s look at the mention of a hot tub. “You don’t have to do that. I just expected one of the regular rooms.”
