Page 37 of The Seven Month Itch
A win is a win.
I spot Emma trotting next to a man with a beard. His red cap keeps his light camel hair tame underneath. Sharp jawline. Full lower lip. Blue eyes.
She’s found her Chris Evans mountain man. Guess you can manifest your desires.
“So, what brings you here?” A voice in front calls my attention. Preston slows his pace to ride next to me.
I shrug. “The singles’ retreat, I guess.”
“Really? You don’t strike me as someone who takes joy in that.” His eyes linger in wait for an answer.
Gosh, he makes me blush. “You’re right. I wouldn’t sign up for something like this on my own. Don’t get me wrong, the resort is beautiful, but I’m more of an introvert when it comes to finding love again.”
“Again?” He doesn’t miss anything.
It’s a struggle to muster up the courage to open up to a stranger. A handsome one, but still a stranger. I sigh and look into his eyes. “I was married. Technically still am.”
“Oh?”
“We got married after college, and our relationship hit a snag almost a year ago. With divorce inevitable, my friend signed us up to get me back in the saddle.” I look down at mine. “So here I am.”
He goes quiet. Just when I think he’ll tell his horse to speed up and leave the lady with the baggage in a trail of snow, he cracks a half smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
We continue our ride in silence until it’s time to head back to the resort. I’m grateful for the quiet and the chance to commit these incredible views to memory.
A hand presses against my shoulder as I hand off Stella to a staff member. “Hey. I don’t want to take up all of your time, but I was wondering if you plan to go to the movie tonight?”
Seems Preston also enjoyed our time together. He wants to go on a date.Squee!It’s a date, right?
I toss a smile and mask the urge to do a high kick. Let me think about it. Hell yes!
“Emma, my friend, signed me up. I kinda have to go.”
Those dang dimples peek out again when he nods. “Great, I’ll see you there.” He smiles and turns to take away our horses.
What is happening?
Chapter 18
Terrence
The elevator does a double bounce before the doors open to the scent of buttered popcorn. A group crowds around a vintage machine with red and white bags in their hands and anticipation in their eyes. Rectangular tables wrapped in red cloth line the entrance with every snack imaginable on display and for the taking.
Movies were more of a treat back in the day. I saved what I could and took my younger sister when my mom worked at the hospital, which was pretty much around the clock. When I didn’t have it, my boy Leandro would let us slip in during his shift to make life easier on my wallet. A packed theater with sticky floors and candy from the corner store was the life. Now I enjoy the big screen from the comforts of my home theater. No long lines. No knee checks with the people next to you. No overpriced concession food. One of the perks of my job is being able to screen the occasional film before it hits theaters.
I scan the basement for Miles and a clue about the movie but come up short on both fronts. My fingers twitch in my pocket to hit the elevator button and go back upstairs for another night holed up with ESPN and whatever I order from room service. But I made a promise to put myself out there, which is why I threw on a gray thermal, a pair of jeans, and got my ass down here.
A hotel employee opens the double doors to revealFifty Shades of Greyposters taped to the center. A tickle flick with strangers while the main characters go at it? Not happening.
I turn back to the elevator and text Miles not to come when I run into a familiar face. “Hey. Did you know they were playing this?” I thumb back to the glossy image of a guy ready to choke a woman into submission.
Madison steps closer with a smirk. She bats her long eyelashes and runs her tongue over her red lips. “What’s the matter, Terrence, can’t handle a little kink?”
I huff out a laugh. “If you think this is kinky, no one has tied you up properly. Watching people moan in a public theater isn’t how I spend my Friday nights.” Most include a late gym session and takeout, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Madison—who’s wearing black leather leggings and a tight cream sweater—stares back in silence until I fold. “You want to watchFifty Shades of Grey?”
She smiles and pulls me toward the entrance.
