“I’m so glad I came in this morning,” Leo murmurs with glee.
I tear my eyes away from her ample hips and flick upward to see her glaring at me. Even that turns me on. And frankly I don’t care if she’s mad. I’d rather have her mad at me than out with Pat Samson, who uses his camping trips to fuck lonely women while exposing them to a multitude of dangers.
“I wouldn’t let my worst enemy go on a trip with Samson.” I stomp over to the checkout counter and slam my ass down on the stool.
“Dumbass,” Leo coughs into his hand.
“I’m your worst enemy? Is that what you’re saying?” Adelaide’s blue eyes are firing daggers at me.
“What are you talking about, woman? I never said you were my worst enemy.” I fold my arms across my chest and glare back.
“Fine. Whatever.” She throws up her hands. “Are you going to help me get the appropriate gear or not?”
“No. Samson isn’t safe, and I’m not going to help him take you out into the woods where you could be injured or worse.” The thought of her out with Samson makes me sick to my stomach.
She stalks over to the counter and slaps her palms on the polished wood surface. When she leans forward, the fabric around her soft tits gapes and gives me an eyeful of lush flesh. Before I’m able to force myself to look away, the vision of her perfect tits is burned into my brain. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go and I won’t.”
The animal in me lurks just under the skin, and right now it’s clawing at the surface, wanting out. It takes everything I’ve got not to toss her right onto the counter, whip her skirt up, and pound into her in front of Leo and any other goddamned person who could walk through the door. “You don’t belong out there,” I say abruptly.
“You’re a jerk, Cole Braxton. A good-looking guy but a real jerk.” She twirls on her dainty foot and stomps out.
When the door shuts behind her, I release a sigh full of relief and regret. I miss her already, but she’s just too much temptation to be around on a regular basis.
“Dude, she wants you. She practically laid herself out on a platter and you turned her down,” Leo says with disgust.
“I’m not going to hurt her.”
“But you’ll let her go with Samson?”
I can’t let that happen either.
2
Adelaide
Who does Cole Braxton think he is, anyhow?
I storm back to Pamper Yourself without a single bit of camping equipment, my list crumpled in my fist. So much for finding an excuse to flirt with Cole. I might as well give up. It’s like flirting with a stump. A really pissy stump.
I reenter my spa and grit my teeth as I move behind the counter to flip on the small indoor waterfall next to the front desk. I turn on the Celtic music CD and straighten magazines in the waiting room. It takes a moment before my crappy mood settles down, and even Enya’s soothing harp sounds can’t make my temper go away.
I don’t know why I bother. I’ve been in Pine Falls three years, and my business is thriving even though everyone seems to laugh at me. Everyone here is all about hiking and camping and dog sledding and all kinds of crazy macho outdoor vacation things. Naturally, that struck me as the perfect spot to set up a spa. You know, the ‘mom’ getaway. Dad gets to go hunt bear or track wolves or whatever it is they do. Mom gets pampered at the spa. Everyone has a happy vacation.
It’s worked out beautifully too. In the off-season, I get just enough business from the locals who want mani-pedi jobs. In the tourist season, I’m booked solid. You’d think that would get me some respect around here from the other business owners.
Nope. Cole, in particular, looks at me as if he wants to squash me like a bug. He always glares disapprovingly. I smooth my hands down my flouncy, flirty skirt. I should give up trying to crack him. Maybe he doesn’t like blondes. Maybe he only goes for waifs. I’m more on the pleasant side of plump.
But the thought of going after another guy makes me cringe inside. It’s not that there’s not a lot of hot guys around here. The town’s crawling with them, and they’re all ridiculously athletic. There’s something about Cole, though, that drives me crazy. Maybe it’s because his camping supply store is right across from my spa, and I get to see him on the street every day. We run into each other grabbing morning coffees. I send customers his way, and he sends them mine. Every time I turn around, Cole’s there, firing up my libido with his big, brawny arms and that fall of messy dark hair that does ridiculous things to my ovaries.
I mean, if a girl’s going to dream about giving up her virginity, she might as well pick a prime specimen, right?