Page 9 of 40 and (Tired of) Faking It
“Considering I’ve had one serious boyfriend every decade or so, I’ve got about seven years to go.” Unfortunately. She was perfectly happy being single most days, but who didn’t want someone to occasionally cuddle with? Or, you know, other things. “Once a decade is plenty, right?”
“Not when that ‘once’ sucks. Or doesn’t, as the case may be.” Erin grimaced, referencing Lily’s long-ago confidence that Mason expected oral sex but never felt the need to give it in return.
God, she loved her best friend. But she also really wished Erin wasn’t right.
“Anyway, I will not give up on my crusade of finding the perfect man capable of actually showing you what a good time in bed is like, ever.”
“Good luck with that.” She scooped up the last bite of fried ice cream. “JD is a business connection, nothing more. We’re scratching each other’s bac— Grr.” She broke off as Erin howled with laughter at the double entendre in Lily’s words. Instead of trying to continue, she wiped her mouth, wadded up her napkin, and let Erin’s amusement come to an eventual quiet.
“Well,” her friend finally said, “I haven’t given up hope, nor will I. And speaking of…” She retrieved a gift bag from the seat beside her. “Happy fortieth birthday.”
“Do we have to include my age? Can’t it just be ‘happy birthday’?” Lily grabbed the bag eagerly despite her arguing. She might be forty, but when it came to presents, she was like a little girl—she couldn’t wait to tear into them.
She could have waited to tear into this one, though. At least in a public place. Nestled inside the mounds of tissue paper was a lacy panties-and-bra set in a beautiful vibrant red, along with a garter belt that consisted mostly of thin ribbons encrusted in crystals, and hosiery that was so soft Lily wanted to rub them against her cheek. “Lingerie?”
Erin shrugged. “We might be hitting forty, but that doesn’t mean we’re not still women. And men aren’t the only reason we should have pretty things. Make yourself feel good, whether someone else does or not.”
Lily stared at the mound of lace and silk, considering her friend’s words. How long had it been since she’d made herself feel good? Since she’d done anything but worry about this town and its future, not her own. There just hadn’t seemed to be any options for the latter. Her work was all she had—work and friends. But that shouldn’t be all.
“You’re right.” She lifted the hose to her cheek and rubbed. So silky soft. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Erin winked. “Besides, maybe you’ll have someone else to show them off to sometime soon.”
Lily rolled her eyes, stuffing the lingerie back into the bag, but her gaze—and her thoughts—lingered on it long after their conversation had moved on.
Chapter Five
“The house will definitely take some renovating.”
JD walked out of the mint-green kitchen with its dated white appliances, circa 1980s, and moved down the main hall of the house toward the back patio. In his hand he held his phone at head height, camera flipped so Linc and Carter could examine the state of the rooms along the way. “I agree with Carter,” he said. “It doesn’t look like my grandmother did anything beyond basic upkeep in the past decade and a half.”
His grandfather, Wallace, had died fifteen years after JD left for college. He hadn’t returned for the funeral. According to the lawyer, his grandmother had kept a housekeeping staff that cleaned and cooked for her, but JD saw no evidence that she had updated the interior of the mansion. It all looked exactly as it had when he’d lived here thirty years ago.
“Not to mention the basic layout,” his friend Carter was saying. JD could see he was sitting in his office in a New York high-rise, his tie loosened at his throat, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “In order to house staff, we’ll need to add bathrooms, possibly kitchenettes. Expand the dining room at the very least.”
“It does look like there’s room for that,” Lincoln agreed from his restaurant office. “Any changes in the house that aren’t reflected on the basic layout you gave us, JD?”
“Not that I’ve found.” He opened the French doors at the back of the house, with a little jimmying of one side, which stuck. His skin warmed as he walked into the courtyard, the spring air rushing over him. This had been his favorite spot as a teen. The wings of the building curved into a slight crescent-moon shape, cradling a cobblestone patio surrounded by mature maple and poplar trees that shaded the backside of the house. The patio furniture he remembered was gone, but the quiet atmosphere he’d sought out remained. This was why he’d chosen a brownstone on the Upper East Side rather than a more convenient apartment closer to his work, because the courtyard had reminded him of the one spot he’d loved growing up. Playing in the thick grass as the shadows of the trees hid him from prying eyes. Climbing into the canopy of branches to pretend he was Tarzan. Reading in a makeshift hammock (until Virginia had ripped it down and grounded him for a month).
Those memories were so, so long ago, but they’d been good.
Something in his chest loosened as he walked out onto the now ragged grass in his bare feet. With the satellite Wi-Fi he’d had installed this afternoon, the signal stayed strong even this far from the house.
“I still need to go through the basement and attic spaces, and I have an inspection scheduled next week after the planning commission meeting. The architect will also be here so we can decide on any necessary adjustments at the same time.”
Carter lightly tapped a pen on his desk. “Has Lee Cooper started work on the plans for the lodge and restaurant yet?”
“We’ve had several calls. I think he’ll be able to incorporate everything we want. We just need to find the best sites on the land and begin mapping out infrastructure needs before finalizing any designs.”
Black Wolf Resort—their resort—was a massive project with a lot of moving parts, but nothing he hadn’t handled before. At least business-wise. There were definitely things about this build, both personalities and the past, that were different.
“And we’ll need zoning changes,” his friend pointed out. “Discussions with the city about what they’re willing to offer us as far as tax breaks. What we’ll have to trade in infrastructure funding for the town.”
All of which means more chances to work with Lily Easton.
Working with her was definitely affecting him far differently than other projects had.
He really needed to stop thinking about her. Unfortunately they needed her help to get the resort moving forward.
