Page 17 of Merry on the Mountain
“Hi, I’m Ava,” she greets me. “Did you buy a ticket already or do you need to purchase a day of ticket?”
“Day of.” She asks me a few questions, takes my payment, and then hands me a paddle. “This is like any other auction. The guys will be up on stage and introduced one at a time with bidding following directly after. They’re all great, I picked them myself.”
“Sounds like a fun job.”
“A few of them are more like brothers, actually one is my brother.”
“Which one?”
“Aiden, he’s a chef at the resort.”
“I work there, too.” Her eyes light up, but I shake my head assuming she’s thinking I mean the restaurant. “I’m a ski patroller and instructor.”
“Oh.” She bounces with excitement. “Drew’s instructor?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s so nice to meet you. He mentioned you might be swinging by.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” I give her a nod and smile as a group walks in behind me.
I leave her to greet the women and venture further into the bar. Groups of women stand around cocktail tables while men walk around mingling. A cursory glance around the room shows no sign of Drew, so I turn and head toward the bar. If I’m going to do this, I need a stiff drink.
“What can I get you?” The bartender tosses a rag over her shoulder and braces her palms against the counter. “The Man Candy martini is half off as the signature drink for the auction.”
After she rattles off what it’s made of, I order one. Might as well go all out. It is for a good cause after all. Plus, since it’s a martini, I’m more likely to sip on it instead of gulping it down like a beer.
Just as I lift the martini glass to my lips, I feel the heat of a body at my back. Two hands that shouldn’t be familiar, but are regardless, land on either side of me, caging me in between his strong arms. I turn and look up into his fathomless blue gaze.
“You came.”
CHAPTER 7
DREW
Willa’s lips,painted in a sinful scarlet red, lift into a half smile. “Who could resist an auction called Hunks for Hounds?”
“Obviously not you.” I glance down at the martini in her hand. “Is that the event cocktail?”
She takes a sip, her eyes never leaving me. As she pulls the martini glass from her mouth, her tongue flicks over her lip. Desire pulses in my cock.
“It is.” She takes another drink. “And it’s really fucking good.”
“May I?” My hand lifts to the glass, bringing it to my lips when she releases her grasp. The flavor of peach and bourbon explode on my tongue. It is good.
She takes the glass back and holds it to her chest, angling away from me. “This one is mine, get your own,” she teases.
My fingers itch to touch her. I flex my hands and then make a fist to stave off the need for physical contact with her. But fuck, is it hard.
She looks stunningly beautiful. The dress she poured herself into might as well be painted onto her body. Her blonde hair cascades down her back in soft waves. I had no idea it was so long. Her boots are high heeled but still don’t bring her to my height.
“You look gorgeous.”
She looks taken aback by my words, as if they were the last thing she expected to hear. “Thank you. You’re not too bad, yourself.”
Her eyes do a slow sweep over my broad shoulders, encased in a cashmere sweater that highlights my muscled physique. My cock twitches against my leg as her eyes wander down my body to the black dress pants I’m wearing.
“Thank you,” I rasp.
