Page 15 of Love By a Landslide

Full and happy, Lucy was ready to settle into her room and take a leisurely soak in the hot tub before crashing for the night. She used her key card to unlock the door and pushed into her room, the creak sounding twice as loud now that the sun had set and the town was settling down. She almost forgot about the state of things inside. A flip of the light switch reminded her all over again of the tacky display of romance.

She chose to ignore it. Nothing was going to ruin her trip.

Lucy stripped down, leaving a trail of clothes behind her as she walked to the private balcony. She grabbed the sparkling wine and a fistful of chocolates along the way. A peek outside the sliding glass door confirmed she had adequate privacy, and she hopped into the tub, settling into one of the corners.

Relaxation blanketed her. The warm, churning water swept away any stress or anxieties she’d been feeling earlier about going on the backpacking trip the next day. Her only remaining reservations were whether she’d get along well enough with the guide and if she could manage with her heavy pack. She was no couch potato, but she also hadn’t hiked or been to a gym in years. Plus, she severely overpacked. She’d probably struggle, but being a paying customer, it was unlikely that her hiking companion would complain. And if they did, well, then there would be no tip.

Who am I kidding? I’d still tip them.

Between sips of bubbles, Lucy’s thoughts drifted back to the flannelled guy at the tavern. He really was handsome. Maybe that’s exactly what she needed: a vacation rendezvous with a sexy local. He’d be quite a palette cleanser.

She quickly dismissed the notion. She’d just fallen into single status and didn’t need some guy to come along and disrupt her journey of self-discovery. Even if that man stood a full head over her and probably smelled like pine needles and testosterone, she wasn’t looking to lose herself again.

But there wasn’t any harm in fantasizing.

She imagined him in the hot tub with her. Naked and flushed from the heat of the water. Smoldering amber eyes devouring the sight of her as the tops of her breasts peaked above the surface. Maybe he’d grab hold of her feet and massage them then pull her closer so he could reach and rub other, more satisfying areas of her body. What did he look like under that plaid button-up? He probably had just the right amount of chest hair that spanned his pecs and teased a line down his belly. Following a path all the way down past his boxers until it met his . . .

Woo! Is it getting warm in here or is it just the hot tub?

Lucy grinned, enjoying the night sky and naughty thoughts, while she soaked all her worries away.

Chapter eight

Saturday morning: Jonathan

Jonathan stood up from the table he and his friends shared at The Rooftop Tavern, zeroing his sights on the luscious brunette sitting a few tables away. His strides slowly ate up the distance between them, somehow feeling heavy, like he was slogging through dense mud. Finally reaching the table, he sank into the chair beside her. She winked, dragging her teeth across her plump bottom lip. Full breasts strained against the thin, almost revealingly wispy fabric of the mystery woman’s shirt. Doesn’t she know she’s in public? That anyone who looked would be able to spy her firm nipples through the threadbare weave? Jonathan glanced around. No one watched; in fact, a blurry fog had crept in through the cracks of the wall and washed out the customer-encircled tables, leaving the two in relative privacy.

So many things he wanted to ask her, but the words wouldn’t form. They remained lodged in his throat as she ran her fingertip lightly over his shoulder, up his neck, and traced the shell of his ear. The sizzle of contact navigated the complex highway of his senses, changing lanes and skipping from one nerve ending to another, all closing in on where he strained against his jeans.

Overcome, Jonathan slid his hands quickly up her thighs and gripped her hips firmly. Before he could reason with himself, he’d already pulled her into his lap, rejoicing at the weight of her settling against his cock. He trailed hot, greedy kisses down her neck like a man starved. Her heady scent of pineapple and vanillawas intoxicating, leaving him powerless to think rationally. How could he when he could practically taste the tropical combination on her skin? A husky little moan pushed through her lips as she reached down to where she straddled Jonathan’s lap. With achingly slow strokes, she teased her hand up and down.

Holy fuck.

He wanted her. Fast and hard on that table, regardless of who might be watching.

The sweet seductress opened her mouth to say something and let out a quiet, high-pitched yelp. Jonathan pulled back and looked at her, puzzled. Her mouth stayed open as she continued to emit another burst of short, clipped shrieks—one right after another. No human being should be capable of making that obnoxious sound.

It almost sounded like . . . like . . . an alarm.

Jonathan’s eyes popped open, and he realized that the noise was coming from the alarm clock sitting on his bedside table. Five-thirty in the morning felt extra early at that exact moment. He sat up and flipped the covers off him. The sexy little brunette swam through his mind all while the evidence of his arousal tested the confinement of his boxer briefs. It had been a while since Jonathan had had a dream like that. It was so vivid. The sensations, the smell of her.

I need a shower. A cold one.

An hour later, just as the sun popped up over the ridge to the east of town, Jonathan left the Front Street Bakery with a couple dozen donuts and a large beverage carrier full of fresh, hot coffee. He loved this time of day. Before the clog of trafficand tourists descended on the shops and restaurants, there was a refreshing calm that infused his bones and soul. It was invigorating. Whistling a tune, he approached the back door of Off the Beaten Adventures.

Earlier that morning, after he’d washed the horniness off himself in the shower and had his first cup of coffee at home, he’d actively decided to have a good day. Newlyweds be damned. What was the point of grumping about guiding one little camping trip? With a fresh perspective—and fresh donuts—he pushed the door open with his hip and walked in.

Janet was already there, prepping the place to open and welcome the first batch of adventurers. A pang of guilt poked at his chest. He liked being there when she arrived to help her with the process, but he also wanted to bring some breakfast for the crew. Despite his best efforts, he’d been waylaid, waiting his turn at the town’s favorite donut spot. The dude ahead of him couldn’t make up his mind between a bear claw and a classic glazed. Either make a decision or move aside, my man.

“I know, I know! Sorry I’m late,” he called over his shoulder as he set the donuts and coffee down on the table in the break room. “But I brought sugar and caffeine, which I know causes you to forget all indiscretions.”

Using a napkin, he scooped up a pink glazed cake donut coated in rainbow sprinkles and plopped it into Janet’s hand. She cleared her throat, but before she could speak, he continued. “I’m going to need the extra boost today.” He quickly filled Janet’s personalgone fishin’mug with coffee from the carrier then added a pack of the pink stuff and a splash of cream. Setting the mug on her desk, he smiled. “Just the way you like it,” he said, gesturing to the coffee then strode over to make himself a cup.

“Thank you, dear. But . . .”

“I woke up dreading today’s trip. Newlyweds. Ugh. I knowthey’re going to be all over each other.” Jonathan groaned as he picked up an apple fritter and took a big bite.

“Jonathan—” Janet tried to cut in.

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