Page 12 of Silent Cravings

I had taken this single country club that was given to me to run once I graduated with my business degree, and I purchased the golf course a year later. Two years after that, I purchased another three country clubs and poured money into renovating another two the family already owned that had been allowed to coast by on reputation for far too long. It wasn’t long before I was given ownership of those locations as well.

Not yet thirty years old, I owned six extremely profitable country clubs, overseeing their management, the events held there, and the grounds. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I hadn’t told anybody of my goal to have ten locations under my belt by the time my thirtieth birthday came along. Why ten? It was a nice, round number. Nothing more than that.

Expanding our private events’ capabilities went a longway toward our exploding profits. And a high-profile wedding like the one Ari was willing to pay for would draw hundreds and even thousands of interested eyes once photos spread online. Brides up and down the New England coast would claw each other to pieces if it meant holding their reception here.

Beyond that was the very real privilege of helping Colton. It wasn’t like we sat around and talked about our feelings and shit like that, but I saw the effect Rose had on him. How much he wanted to make her happy. How happy she made him. They were proof it was possible to find something real.

If I could play a little part in that, I’d be glad to. I’d never say it out loud, but I would enjoy it.

Especially if it meant an excuse to be with Valentina.

My dick twitched at the thought of her. There I was thinking I had her out of my system years ago. All it took was one night to unravel all of that. We weren’t exactly kids again—we never would be—but it didn’t matter. Everything was still there.

The chemistry.

The connection.

And there was something that couldn’t have existed back then when we were so young and only thought we knew anything about life. There was a difference between the sort of hot, animal fucking a pair of eighteen-year-olds could get down to and what adults could do after years of experience.

I was still lost in my thoughts when a knock at the door behind me pulled my head back to the present. Serena got up and answered, introducing herself before leading Valentina into the office.

My uncle owneda horse farm back when I was a kid, and I once spent a summer working for him. One hot day, the meanest, most ornery colt threw me from its back, and I hit the ground hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. It wasn’t the way I always imagined it would feel, getting the wind knocked out of me. There was a helplessness to it, and it was fucking terrifying. A momentary flash of panicked certainty that I would never breathe again.

It wasn’t a horse that threw me this time.

It was the tall, gorgeous brunette who entered my office like she belonged there. She scanned the room without reacting, flashing a brief, professional smile my way. “Good morning,” she purred, or was that only in my head?

Everything she did was so fucking hot. I had trained myself out of looking at her like that from all the way back when I had a permanent hard-on for the sight of her ass. Obviously, there was no way we could coexist if I was drooling over her all the time.

I had to swallow the saliva that flooded my mouth as I took her in while she crossed the room. I hadn’t expected the tailored suit she wore—a pale yellow that brought sunshine to mind and made her eyes look bluer in contrast. My hands clenched reflectively when I imagined unbuttoning her jacket, tearing off her white blouse, and opening the clip at the nape of her neck so her long, thick hair would tumble free.

The sight of my event coordinator’s curious gaze brought me back to reality in a hurry. “Thanks, Serena,” I murmured with a firm nod. “I’ll catch you later, and we’ll finish going over the calendar.”

Valentina turned in a slow circle, surveying the room I’d carefully put together—modern, sleek, yet classic. Trends were a waste of money. “Can I get you something to drink?” Ioffered. “Coffee, maybe? We have a coffee bar on the premises, and they can whip up anything you like.”

“I already caffeinated on the way here, but thanks,” she demurred. We were alone now, but she maintained that standoffish approach, standing like a soldier ready for inspection.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. Why I was so damn determined to placate her, I had no idea.

“Trying to feed me again?” Her glossy lips tugged upward at the corners. At least she wasn’t trying to pretend nothing happened or, worse, letting it get in the way of what we had to do. I should have known better than to think she would. She was a levelheaded, intelligent person, somebody who lived in the real world and understood how it worked.

I thought I was, too, though. The fact I couldn’t keep my eyes off her legs as she took a seat across from my swivel chair left me questioning myself. Somehow, I managed to get together and offered, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Thank you for meeting with me.” She crossed her legs and balanced her tablet on her thigh, holding a stylus between her slim fingers. “So, did you have a chance to look at your calendars? See if you have anything available?”

Straight to business. Well, every day counted. It was probably a good thing she was focused. We could avoid the awkward chitchat.

I turned to my MacBook, plugging in dates and selecting all of our properties to cast a wide net. “Let me see. I have a Friday evening three weeks from now on the Vineyard.”

“No way,” she said with a laugh.

“Then there is a Sunday afternoon in Cape Cod on the following weekend, but I’m guessing an extra week still isn’t enough time.” A glance her way showed her shaking herhead. “Otherwise, I have a Sunday, the first weekend in June. Here in Greenwich,” I concluded. “What do you think? You’re here, you’ve seen the place. I can take you on a tour if you want… show you the facilities. We could do a bachelor golf outing on Saturday… it looks like that afternoon is free.”

“Slow down, slow down,” she urged, taking notes. “Golf outing. I like it. What about locations in the area for lodging?”

“We’ve partnered with The Delamar and have connections to other hotels in the area,” I told her. “I could reserve a block of rooms for the entire week if that’s what we want. I’d have to make the calls soon, though.”

“You’ve got all kinds of connections, haven’t you?” There was admiration in her voice, even if it sounded a little bit patronizing.

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