Page 16 of 40 and (Tired of) Faking It
She nodded, her expression soft with understanding. Her profile, strong yet sweet, just like the woman, drew his stare more than their surroundings, and he realized he had no desire to look away. There was something about Lily, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, that held his attention like no woman had in a long time. Or maybe it was so many things about her rather than only one. Whichever it was, he found himself leaning closer, his knee nudging her hip, his focus dropping to her lips. Those soft, full lips. Without conscious thought his hand rose, fingers brushing her hair back behind her ear, allowing him to see more of her. Lily startled, a delicate blush rising in her cheeks as she turned her head to look at him.
Just when he would have moved even closer, overcome by the need to feel her skin on more than just his fingers, the sound of the back door opening reached them. Damn Henry and his entrances. Lily’s gaze dropped to the rocks, and she cleared her throat. JD fisted his hand as he drew it back, trapping the memory of the soft texture of her curls inside.
“Great sandwich, punkin’. Thank you.”
JD glanced up as her grandfather approached, and noticed a twinkle of amusement in Henry’s faded eyes. Had he interrupted them on purpose? An eighty-something-year-old cock blocker. He shot back a wry smile, amused by the old man’s delight. “I agree. Thank you, Lily, for suggesting it,” he said, looking to her.
She began gathering up their trash. “I know it’s your favorite, Papa.”
“It is. Now”—he stopped her on her way past him, taking the remnants of their meal from her despite her protests—“tell me what’s up.”
She bit her lip over a grin. “Okay.” As they walked back to the house, Lily explained the project JD was undertaking on the mountain above Black Wolf’s Bluff. Henry listened thoughtfully, asking JD occasional questions. Landscaping. The ski area. Water and infrastructure. When he brought up wildlife, JD began to appreciate why Lily had brought him here.
“I understand you’re an expert on nature in this area.”
Henry scrubbed at his chin. “You could say that.”
Lily scoffed. “We do say that.”
Henry wiggled his eyebrows at her. Her laugh sent a strange flutter through JD’s chest.
“Thing is,” Henry said, oblivious to JD’s distraction, “you have to consider not only the impact on the natural area you’re building in, but how incorporating native natural elements will save you money and make your resort unique.”
JD knew that. Whether he was building in New York City or the desert outside Las Vegas, the surroundings had to be considered.
“Especially when those native natural elements include creatures that can be dangerous, like black bears and elk.”
“Elk?”
Henry nodded. “Reintroduced to the national park starting in the early 2000s. This area also has the most dense population of black bears east of the Mississippi. Over sixty mammals, hundreds of bird species, and that’s not to mention amphibians, reptiles, fish—the Salalai River skirts your property before dipping back into Black Wolf’s Bluff. Your staff will have to be educated on wildlife to keep your guests safe. The infrastructure is going to impact ecology on the mountain and in the valley below you. Especially with the skiing element.”
He was an experienced developer; he already knew that. But he’d thought an expert would need to be brought in from one of the research groups in the area, possibly an ecologist or… “You wouldn’t happen to know someone who could advise us on those things, would you?”
“Yeah, maybe…”
Lily sneaked a peek at him, her hazel eyes twinkling just like her grandfather’s did. “We’ll figure something out,” she said, giving him a wink behind her grandfather’s back. Watching her, he got that weird feeling in his chest again, and he caught himself raising a hand to rub at it. Maybe heartburn? That had to be it.
His gaze dropped to Lily’s ass as she walked ahead of him.
Yeah, definitely heartburn.
Chapter Eight
The rich taste of espresso hit JD’s tongue, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. The sandwich he’d made at home had satisfied his hunger, but the old coffeepot just wasn’t doing it for him, and despite express delivery, the new machine he’d ordered wouldn’t arrive before tomorrow. In the meantime he was happy to let Maria’s excellent coffee and the congenial atmosphere of Wildwoods Brew fill in.
Had Maria ever considered her own roast? A lot of coffee shops were adding on specialty roasts now. Maybe it was something he could ask Linc about; if they did something exclusive to Wildwoods and the resort, it could benefit them both…
A wry grin cocked his mouth. Lily would be proud of him, finding ways to cross-promote with businesses here in town.
Yesterday had involved a trip to visit a woman who had recently retired from a high-level position in HR at the Opryland Resort and Convention Center, directly across from the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville. Although far larger than the resort JD was planning, the basic needs were similar: staffing, payroll, and in particular, the best places to look for appropriate recruitment. The woman had been exactly what they would need once the resort was built, and had even given him the contact information for a fifteen-year veteran housekeeping manager from a similar property who had left her job last year, moving to the next town over from Black Wolf’s Bluff when her first grandchild was born there.
Lily was practically setting his resort operations in motion for him at this rate.
Leaning back against the worn leather sofa, he sipped his coffee and stared out the large bay window at the front of the shop. Wildwoods Brew and Gimme Sugar were located directly on Main Street, which ran east and west of the town square. It was lined with a collection of buildings from the early 1900s, back when his ancestor, Virgil Lane, had bought 85,000 acres of land to begin the Lane Logging Company. The town had been established to support company employees and named after the mountain, Black Wolf’s Bluff, that his ancestral home was built on. The company had long been out of business, most of the land sold off, but what had been built here in this little town remained over a hundred years later.
A closer inspection of the street than he’d made the past couple of days revealed a variety of small businesses—a florist and bike repair shop and seamstress and more. The post office was situated down the road across from the courthouse. Pride was evident in the way the occasional empty storefront was neatly painted, the windows decorated with displays advertising other local businesses. It was like someone had brought a Norman Rockwell painting of the ideal small town to life.
How will that change when Black Wolf Resort opens?
