Page 4 of Come to Me

He frowned. “I didn’t mean to offend?—”

She waved a hand. “I was just messing with you.” She led him to the back. “Here is the bedroom with a king size bed.” She sized him up from his expensive loafers to his short dark hair. He was over six feet for sure, but he should fit.

“This cabin has the nicest bath, even better than the honeymoon suite.” She opened the door to show him the room. A garden tub big enough for two sat under a window overlooking the lake. “The one in the honeymoon suite doesn’t have a window. Probably just as well though, huh?” She waggled her brows.

He looked at her like she was from another planet. Inwardly she rolled her eyes and thought, what a waste. He had the looks and money but didn’t have much of a personality. Then again, for many women, looks and money were all that was required. Micki preferred men with a sense of humor and good hearts, or she did. These days, she was too busy working to keep the resort open to date.

She handed Dr. Andres the key and took the empty water glass from him. “I’ll let you get cleaned up. My mother will have refreshments on the deck if you’d like to join us. I know my father would enjoy meeting you.”

He took the key. “Thank you.”

When he didn’t say anything further, she made her way to the door. “Welcome to Kincaid Lake, Dr. Andres.” She exited, shutting the door behind her. With a shake of her head, she went back to the main cabin to help her mother. On the way, she wondered how long Dr. Andres would last before the peace, quiet and snakes sent him back to New York City.

CHAPTER 2

As Patrick scanned the cabin, he thought of the line from the Wizard of Oz about not being in Kansas anymore. He’d clearly stepped into a netherworld. One he wasn’t sure he’d be able to adapt to.

He’d been frustrated by the flat tire, more so when a 1950’s bombshell stepped out of the bright red truck and offered to help him. The first thing he’d seen from where he was crouched behind the car were red Converse sneakers. His gaze drew up over coveralls rolled up to the calves, a white tank top, and a porcelain skinned woman with her dark hair piled in a messy knot, a red bandanna tied like a headband, and red sunglasses. The red lipstick completed the annoyingly alluring package.

There was no doubt she was amused at his ineptitude, which only heightened his frustration. It was male pride, he knew, although his pride wasn’t the only part of his maleness that responded to her. The man in him didn’t miss the smooth curves of her body, even under baggy overalls. That frustrated him too. He’d been pretty sure that part of him had died, or at least gone dormant.

He shook his head of the image of his host and took in the place call home for the next six weeks. As he stood in the middle of the rustic cabin with his shirt plastered to his skin with sweat, oil under his fingernails, and a certainty that his sister, Julia, was right; he wasn’t cut out for the woods.

Sighing, he tossed his bag on the bed as his visit to Julia earlier that day came back to him. The worst part of his life these days was going to Bedford Hills Correctional Facility for Women. It wasn’t simply because his sister, Julia, was convicted of shooting and attempting to murder their best friend, Sydney’s boyfriend now husband. That was bad for sure. What added to the burden was that being a psychiatrist who was often called as an expert witness in criminal trials, Patrick had missed that his sister was mentally unstable.

Julia had always been shallow and flighty. She had a strong desire to keep the Three Musketeers, as she referred to her, Patrick, and Sydney, together. But to kill to make that happen? He hadn’t seen it until it was too late, and Mitch McKenna was bleeding with a gunshot wound to the chest in the middle of Central Park.

Four years later, he continued to live with the shame and guilt of not being able to recognize his sister’s psychopathy. The only saving grace was that Mitch had lived, and he and Sydney were happily married with a young son, and a second child on the way, or so Sydney had told him when she encouraged him, once again, to take a break from his life.

Julia wasn’t Patrick’s only burden in life. With his career in shambles, his parents were pressuring him to finally step into his legacy, running the family’s multi-billion-dollar pharmaceutical business. Being CEO of a drug company wasn’t what Patrick wanted in his life. He understood how medicine could help and was sometimes crucial for mental health, but he also believed far too many people relied on pills instead of doing the hard work to fix their lives.

Taking a leave from his job that he expected he’d shortly be forced to quit, and putting his decision on the business off, Patrick hoped his retreat to the mountains would give him the time and space he needed to figure out his life. Before left New York, he had to let Julia know of his trip, and as expected, she didn’t take it well. His parents didn’t understand why he put up with her, but they’d written her off long before she shot Sydney’s boyfriend. Patrick knew why he put up with it. She was where she was because of him. He failed her in so many ways.

When the visit with Julia was over, the tightness in his chest loosened a bit. By the time he was on the plane flying toward Charlotte Tavern, Virginia, he felt he could suck in a full breath.

He left the crowded city of New York and landed in a thickly wooded area at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains. For a moment, he thought the clean country air was what he needed. That was until the flat tire and trail of snakes.

Feeling that perhaps this wasn’t the right place to find himself, Patrick decided he’d drive back to Charlotte Tavern and charter a plane home, that is after he cleaned up the unbearable sweat covering his body.

He stripped his clothes, wondering if the resort had bon fires. He’d donate his clothes for it if they did. The image of his host returned followed by the spark of attraction. His life was clearly out of sorts if a woman in overalls and red lipstick awakened his dormant libido.

He turned the shower nob to cold, telling himself it was to cool off from the heat of the day and not from the sassy smile of the sexy woman with a man’s nickname. Seriously, Mickey? As in mouse? There was nothing mousy about her. His mind flashed back to her climbing down the ladder, her fine backside shifting side to side.

He chastised himself for not only appreciating her assets but for staring at them. He’d never been a man to ogle or leer. He didn’t cat call or even think lewd thoughts about women. He fantasized on occasion, but never lewd thoughts. So why was this one on a continuous loop in his brain? It had to be the heat.

Patrick put his hands on the shower wall and dunked his head under the spray, rejoicing at the cool water. There was heat and humidity in New York, but he didn’t spend much time in it as he was usually inside. He wondered how Michaela stayed so cool and fresh looking. Didn’t heat and humidity get to her?

Good God, he was thinking of her again.

He finished cleaning the sweat and oil off his body, then dressed in khaki shorts and a red collared shirt. He slipped on his leather boat shoes and slicked his dark hair back.

“Even casual you don’t fit in,” he said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. But he didn’t come here to worry about his fashion sense or indulge his hormones, despite their interest in his host. He came here to clear his mind and figure out his next step. The problem was, he wasn’t sure how to go about doing that. He considered leaving again, but Sydney would call him a quitter.

Deciding he’d give it a day, he stepped out of his cabin and into the heat again. With the sun slightly lower in the sky, the temperature wasn’t as oppressive as earlier. He walked out onto the dock and looked over the water. His neighbors across the way were hand and hand, occasionally stopping to kiss, as they made their way to the main building.

On the main lodge’s deck, Michaela and her mother were setting out refreshments. He supposed he should join them. He didn’t have anything else to do. He made his way back to the path and toward the main building watchful for snakes. When he reached the top step of the deck, Michaela greeted him with a smile that made him catch his breath.

“Hey there. You look refreshed.”

---