Page 5 of Beck & Coll
I awoke in the late afternoon, a little after four o’clock. I grabbed my phone and quickly navigated to the resort’s website to reserve a ride for my seven o’clock dinner reservation.
I couldn’t resist going out onto the back deck of the cottage. There was a table set up with seating for four in the center, but off to the side, with a perfect view of the rushing waters of the river, were two wooden Adirondack chairs.
The sun was still holding court in the sky, keeping the late midday temperatures mild, even with the cool breeze coming off of the fast-flowing water. I sat down, taking a deep breath as I made myself comfortable. My first thought was to grab my phone and check my social media.
“You paid all of this money to experience nature. Experience nature.” I chided myself, sitting back in the chair and really taking in the majesty of my surroundings.
From my perch, I could see the racing river below me. I could see miles and miles of evergreen trees dotting both thevalley below me and the hills above me. I looked up at the great expanse of baby blue sky overhead and couldn’t help smiling and taking another deep breath. The Caribbean might have been paradise for my sisters, but this… the Pacific Northwest was paradise for me.
Looking around one last time before I went and hopped in the shower assured me thatManor at Sienna Sunset Resortwas the perfect place for me to make some big decisions about my future.
Sundays hadthe potential to go either way for me as far as reservations for guided adventures went. Sunday was a day that many of the resort’s guests checked out. Those people were typically concerned with packing, making sure they didn’t leave anything behind, and making their flights back to wherever home was. They weren’t typically interested in booking packages.
Saturday was a heavy check-in day. A lot of those people wanted to hit the ground running and start their vacation as soon as possible. They were the people who scheduled Sunday activities.
While summer was my busiest season, autumn certainly wasn’t far behind. There were plenty of adventure types whosedesire was to see this part of the country while the leaves were changing and when the weather was cooler, though the climate around these parts was generally mild right up until December.
It had been a busy day for me. I’d taken a group of eight family members and friends up to one of the most popular points in Cascada Noir National Park—Blackberry Lookout. From there, I took two different groups for guided hikes along the Treetop Trail, which was a moderately difficult twelve-mile hike. After that, I took a group on an eight-mile hike up the west side of Mount Paradise for gorgeous views of both glaciers and wildlife. Lastly, right before sunset, I took a group of feisty, flirty octogenarians on a quick two and half mile (there and back) hike to see Christina Falls.
I was tired, but when my mom texted me and asked if I would be willing to drive one of the Town Cars to pick up a new guest and bring her to dinner atGood Ashes, there was no way I could say no to my favorite girl.
I shrugged out of my hiking clothes, took a shower and threw on a pair of black slacks and a cream-colored polo with the resort’s logo embroidered right over my heart. Then I sat at my dining table and ate a quick meal, prepared for me by the chef atGood Ashes, my brother, Brewer. Before long, it was a quarter to six and time for me to pick up the guest.
I drove out to the Sunset Cliff Cottage. It was probably my favorite cottage on the entire property because of the way it sat on a cliff that overlooked Pakpa’kli River. It was definitely peaceful. The guest obviously had good taste.
I pulled next to her rented Subaru and chuckled to myself. Subarus were the official vehicle of the Pacific Northwest. There were more Subarus per capita in the states of Oregon and Washington than there probably were anywhere else.
I wasn’t there long before the door to the cottage opened and out walked a beautiful little, fucking teapot—she was fine, short, and stacked. I couldn’t remember if that was how the nursery rhyme described the teapot, but that was definitely how I described her. She was so pretty that I actually got out of the car like I was the chauffeur instead of the owner’s son who was doing her a solid.
“Damn,” I muttered but maybe not softly enough because her eyes flew to my face.
I couldn’t help it. The cargo capri pants she had on were somehow baggy yet fitted at the thighs and ass. Her bright pink toes were on display in a pair of sandals that wrapped her ankles and up to her lower shins. On the top, she wore a cropped sweater. The sweater was covered by a leather bomber jacket that hung loosely off of her shoulders. And her hair was green, a striking emerald green. She looked like fashion and a snack.
“Hi.”
She was shy. The way she said that one word told me everything that I needed to know. I could be pushy. If I didn’t reel myself in, I was liable to scare a woman like her, and I couldn’t chance possibly scaring her off before I got to know her. While I didn’t make a habit of fucking the resort’s guests, I wasn’t opposed. So, I was about to be on this woman.
“What’s good? I’m your driver for tonight. My name is Beckham, but the beautiful ladies get to call me Beck. And according to your reservation, your name is Collins.”
She blushed. She was beautiful when she blushed. The tawny skin of her cheeks glowed pink, making the scattered smattering of freckles on her face even more pronounced.
“What’s up, Beck?” Her fingers pushed a few errant strands of her hair behind her ear as she glanced down at the ground.
Well, that was endearing. As I stared at her, the only thought running through my mind was…soft.
Soft.
Soft.
“Get in the car, beautiful. It’s chilly out here. Let me get you to the lodge.”
“Thank you.”
I held the handle of the door while she slid in. As I closed the door behind her, I couldn’t help shaking my head at myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I held the car door for a woman. I was a fan of women and held them in high regard, but I also had rude boy tendencies. Holding car doors open wasn’t something I was into.
“So, are you the same Beckham who gives the guided tours?”
“One in the same,” I admitted before it dawned on me. “You’re Collins Kingsley, the client I’m taking hiking tomorrow, huh?”
