Retreat Page 8
“Okay. I’ll head up and see if they have something I can shove in my face before my body starts to devour itself. I’ll let them know you’re running a little late.”
She nodded and moved to the sink, where she watched me in the reflection as I made my way over to my new boots and shoved my feet into them. They were unlike anything that usually graced my feet, but I had to admit the little fringe at the base of the laces was super cute. I put my hands on my hips as she surveyed me in the glass with a grin.
“You’re adorable, Leo. Thank you for trying, it really does me a lot.” There was a lightness in her tone, which had been missing ever since I had pulled the turtle move by ducking my head in my shell of misery. I ignored the rest of the world while I tried to pull together the edges of the wounds that cut far deeper than anyone realized.
I huffed out a breath and made my way to the door. “Wish me luck. I hope I don’t get eaten by a bear or attacked by a mountain lion on the way to that log mansion.”
She laughed and gave me a look in the mirror. “If you scream, I bet good money more than one of those boys in the tight Wranglers will come running to your rescue. It might be worth it just to try it out. Who doesn’t want to be saved by a sexy as hell cowboy?”
I snorted as I pulled open the door. “Well, I’m still not convinced those guys are cowboys, so the chances are I’d have to save myself.” Something I was so sure I could do before Chris had rattled the very foundation of my belief in myself. Now, I wasn’t so sure I was up to the task of keeping myself safe and protecting those places that were too tender and soft. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Em gave me a little wave over her shoulder. I winced at how loud the door sounded when it shut behind me, how clearly I could hear the tap of the heels from my boots on the wooden landing that led to the ground. It was so quiet, so soundless and still. I could hear my heart beating and each breath I took. I could hear the way my clothes moved against my skin and the way the light breeze moved through my hair as I made my way to the brightly illuminated main house. I was acutely aware now how easily any sound would travel without buildings and swarms of people to block it. My voice would carry all the way to the mountaintops when I spoke, so it was no wonder Cy and his brothers had heard my snarky comments from earlier.
Say what you mean . . . Lane’s words floated through my head as I got closer and closer to the striking and imposing house. There was a wide porch which circled the entire front of the house, with several wooden chairs covered in what looked like horse blankets spread across the space. There were antique-looking lanterns burning with a soft glow, and someone had taken the time to scorch the brand that was associated with the property on each of the pickets of the wooden railings. The setting was straight out of an old western movie but nice enough and welcoming enough to appeal to a wide range of visitors. Whoever was in charge of the setting and staging of this ranch had put in painstaking time to get things just right, with no detail missed. The line between working ranch and vacation property had been traversed perfectly, and I was having a hard time seeing any of the men I’d met so far being responsible for that kind of knowing touch. It was something the CEOs I worked with every day spent millions of dollars trying to cultivate. Knowing how to appeal to a consumer and what would get them to part with their hard-earned money was the ultimate tool in a professional’s bag of tricks. It seemed like someone here had wielded it with a deft hand.
I was running my hand over the smoothly milled wood of the railing on the steps that led up to the wood and iron front door. I was appreciating the way the wood felt, so warm under my hand. I was used to steel handrails that were sticky with Lord only knew what. It was like everything in this place had life to it, had some kind of soul that was absent from the institutionalized and severe buildings that crowded San Francisco’s skyline. I loved the city I called home, loved the quirky uniqueness of the rolling hills and dips, the varied history that came from living in a place founded by gold miners and dreamers, but it was nothing like this.
I took a deep breath and was getting ready to walk up the front steps when the front door was suddenly flung open and I came face to face with the aggravatingly attractive not quite a cowboy. I couldn’t remember ever being around a bigger man or one who was so effortlessly impactful. It was like his presence and charisma obliterated every other thing that was going on around me. For some reason, everything seemed to slow down and sharpen directly on him when he was present. The same thing had happened when I looked at his picture on the brochure. It made me uneasy. I didn’t like that he didn’t have to do anything to have every single thing inside of me, and lots of the outside parts of me, reacting to him like he was the most dynamic thing in the universe. It was startling and made my internal warning bells, which were all polished and ready to be put to use after the disaster that was Chris, jingle jangle loud and clear.
“I was just coming to make sure you and your friend didn’t get lost along the way. There are a lot of dangerous things waiting to put their teeth into pretty woman when the sun goes down around here.” I liked the rasp in his voice a little too much but I didn’t care for the seductive warning in his tone at all. I tilted back my head to look up at him as he made his way to the top step so he could loom over me.
“I’m fine. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I know when to run.” Or at least I used to know. Everything inside of me was telling me to hightail it away from this man as fast as I could. Remembering that I was supposed to be burying the hatchet, I forced a smile and cocked my head to the side in what I hoped was an engaging and friendly gesture. “Thank you for thinking of us and our well-being. That’s very hospitable of you.” I bit back the sharp, ‘finally’ that was hovering on the end of my tongue.