Page 30 of Finding Haven
But that craving goes against my desire for wanting a more serious relationship, because if he walked over here right now and told me that all he could offer me is his body, I know that I’d willingly agree to any terms he set.
Maybe that makes me seem desperate.
I don’t think I care.
I’ve never wanted to truly give myself over to someone as much as I want to give myself to him, but there’s a voice inside my head telling me to go slow. Be patient. Something about him tells me that despite his seemingly glamorous job, he may have been dragged through the dark a time or two. The man I met that night at the bar was so cold and guarded. His words were clipped, his body language stiff. Yet the man I experienced last night, the one who’s currently standing among a small group of men with his lips curled into a slight smile, is nothing like the one I met at the hotel bar.
Zack’s dark eyes flick in my direction, and arousal pools low in my belly as visions of the way he touched and tasted my body the night before flood my mind. The corner of his lips tick up into a smirk, and I’m suddenly thankful for my decision to wear a sundress that flatters my curves, hugging them in all the right places.
I bet he’d also love the coordinating navy blue lingerie set I’ve got on underneath. Something I may have worn just for him in hopes that he’d be the one removing it from my body later tonight.
“Everything looks amazing, Quinn! You guys did such a good job,” Hailey, Chelsea’s best friend and, coincidentally, also her boyfriend’s sister, says as she eyes the display of desserts. Her chestnut brown hair sits in soft waves over her shoulders, her bright blue eyes lingering on the brownies.
“Thanks,” I laugh softly. “But I can’t take much credit. Chels only trusts me with the prep and decorating. The recipes and actual baking are all her.”
Hailey shakes her head as she laughs, lifting her gaze to mine. “Don’t take it personally. We’ve been friends forever, and Chels won’t even share her recipes with me. Every time I ask, she offers to bake for me instead. She’s like a dragon—” She reaches for one of the brownies. “Except instead of hoarding treasure, she hoards her recipes.” She groans as she takes a bite. “Though I can’t say I blame her.”
Chelsea has mentioned that Hailey works at the hotel with Zack, but I don’t remember her saying what she does there. How well does she know Zack? Are they friends or just coworkers? As an Anders, is she higher ranked than him? Has she ever seen the women he’s brought back to one of the rooms? There are so many things I want to ask her abouthim, but I don’t want to pry. I want to trust that if there’s anything Zack thinks I need to know, he’ll tell me. He may keep to himself and avoid letting women get too close, but things feel different between us.
Instead of asking one of the many questions racing through my mind, I settle on, “You work at the hotel, right?”
She steps away from the table and moves to stand beside me. “Sure do. I’m the Event Coordinator. I’ve always loved planning parties, so it just kinda made sense to do it as a career.”
“Planning parties for a living sorta sounds like a dream,” I say as my gaze scans over the large yard. There are round tables draped in white linens scattered across the lawn. Large rectangular folding tables are lined up along one side, just off the back porch, where an assortment of burgers, barbecued chicken, ribs, and various side dishes are displayed. A couple of flat top grills and pellet smokers are being managed by a group of guys, each with a drink in their hand.
“It’s not as glamorous as it sounds,” she says, swiping a few snickerdoodle cookies from the table.
I raise a brow at her, fighting back a laugh at the way she’s trying to discreetly wrap the cookies up in a napkin.
“They’re not for me!” she chimes. “Ethan will be so upset if he misses out on these. I’ve gotta save him a few. Anyway, as much as I love planning all these fancy charity galas and events for high-profile companies, I’d love to be able to plan something a little more fun for a change.”
I can’t help but laugh at her quickly steering away from the mention of Ethan. He’s a local tattoo artist—one of the best in my opinion—and has been friends with Chelsea and Hailey for years. He makes it a point to stop by and change up the chalk artwork on the bakery’s windowswhenever the menu is updated. He’s also the artist who did the small tattoo on the inside of my wrist, and who hooked me up with the job at Buttersweet.
“What kind of event would you wanna plan?” I ask, slipping one of my hands into the pocket of my sundress. Seriously, I’m a huge fan of whoever decided that pockets belonged on dresses. My phone vibrates against my hand, and I curl my fingers around it. I’m desperately hoping it’s a message from Zack.
She hesitates for a moment, biting the inside of her lip as her eyes fall to the cookies in her hand. “I’ve actually been looking up different tattoo conventions,” she murmurs.
“That would be amazing! I bet it would be a huge boost of business for Ethan, too.” His tattoo studio seems to do well, but it’s still a smaller shop. I’ve heard him talk a few times about how he’d love to expand the shop.
Her attention flicks to someone across the yard, gesturing for her to come join them. She sighs before forcing a smile. “I’ve gotta go make the rounds,” she says, turning to face me. “I know you’re technically here to work, but don’t feel like you have to stand here the whole time, okay? You’re more than welcome to grab something to eat and mingle if you feel like it.” The person who had been gesturing for her to come over calls her name. She scoffs, shaking her head as she walks away in their direction.
I pull out my phone and quickly check the notifications at the top of the screen, finding a new message on Frisk. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I open it and Zack’s username appears on my screen.
NoMerZ:
I was so busy tasting that pussy of yours last night that I forgot to get your phone number.
You look fucking stunning, Sugar. I can’t wait to get my hands on you again.
Heat rises to my cheeks at the implication. Nobody has ever touched me the way that he did, and we weren’t even in a bed. I could respond, but I’d rather hunt him down. It doesn’t take long for me to find Zack standing among a small group of guys. He’s thoroughly invested in their conversation and hasn’t noticed me approaching. He’s got one hand wrapped around a red plastic cup while the other is slipped into the front pocket of his black jeans. The chiseled lines of his jaw sharpen as his brows narrow at something one of the guys said.
“If he doesn’t wanna cooperate, I’ll just end him and call it done,” the one with sandy blond hair says, crossing his arms over his chest as he shrugs his shoulders.
Their words reach me as I drift closer, an invisible tether pulling me towards Zack as the need to be near him intensifies.
“You will fuckin’ not. We don’t need any unnecessary complications. Besides, killing the fuck before he gives us what we need would be asinine.”
My feet feel rooted in place as their words sink in.
