Crave (17 page)

And he’ll become an absolute success all over again.

Running my fingers through my hair, I scratch the back of my head, squinting at my laptop’s screen. I’ve been searching for the lobby rugs and I can’t find them. I have a visual in my head, but so far nothing comes close to my imagination. I’m afraid I’m going to have to settle.

I know if I told Archer that, he would flip. Demand I continue my search until I find rugs I absolutely love. He’s definitely not about settling, even for rugs.

Hunched over my laptop, I curl my leg beneath me on the chair and sigh, scrolling through yet another textiles website, looking through a ton of ugly rugs that are all wrong, no matter how much I try to make them right. My vision is blurry and my neck aches. It’s past seven, I’m so ready to call it quits but I’m trying to wait for Archer to return.

Silly, yes, but I can’t help myself. I want to see him.

When we’re not in Calistoga, we’re headquartered in Archer’s office at Hush. That’s where I’m at now, waiting for him while he handles some sort of urgent issue. There are always urgent issues for Archer to handle. He does everything at Hush. The man has so much on his plate it overwhelms me, and I’m not the one who has to take care of it all; I’m only an observer. Most of the time he’s putting out various fires, which must get super old.

But I guess this is what comes with being the owner.

Stretching my arms above my head I grimace when I hear and feel my neck pop, then settle back into position. I curl my fingers around the mouse when big, warm hands settle on my shoulders, making me yelp in surprise.

“So tense,” Archer murmurs, his deep voice sounding directly in my ear.

“You scared the crap out of me.” I sink my teeth into my lower lip when he starts to rub to keep a moan from escaping. Oh my God, that feels so good. I think I might melt into a pool of nothing if he keeps it up.

“Sorry. You were too busy scowling at your laptop.” He continues to massage my shoulders and I close my eyes, savoring his touch. How good he makes me feel. “Find what you want?”

If we’re talking about you, yes I sure did.
“Not really,” I admit with a sigh.

He’s standing directly behind my chair, rubbing my shoulders, his fingers digging into my flesh. My entire body warms and loosens at having his hands on me and I want to turn around, grab him, and tell him let’s go back home.

Scary, how I’m starting to think of his house as home. I’m certainly not spending my nights in the guest room, that’s for sure. Or at Hush like we’d originally planned. No, I get to spend them in his amazing, humongous bed in his equally amazing, humongous master bedroom.

The man certainly knows how to live with every luxury available. My parents may be wealthy, but they’re downright modest compared to Archer.

“You should schedule a massage,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss on top of my head.

My insides warm at the sweet gesture. I’m dying to have that mouth of his on mine. “Why would I need to when I have you?” Opening my eyes, I heave a big sigh. Yes. Yes, I’ve lost it. All over Archer.

All for Archer.

“True.” He sounds amused, his voice warm, his touch gentle as he squeezes my shoulders. “I’ll give you a more thorough massage when we get home.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“It’ll involve special oils from the spa and you completely naked.” His voice drops to a husky whisper, sending shivers down my spine, and I smile at my laptop screen.

“Sounds absolutely amazing.”

“It will be, I can promise you that.” He crouches beside me, his face level with mine, and I cut my gaze to his, marveling at his handsome features. His dark brown hair falls across his forehead, making me want to reach across and push it away. So I do, my fingers sifting through the silky soft strands. “Still looking for rugs for the lobby, huh?”

“It’s been a rather . . . frustrating process.” I click out of the website I was perusing and turn more fully to face him.

“I know someone who designs rugs. Has a studio where they’re hand woven.” He smiles. “Every one of them is like a work of art.”

“I’m sure they are. Very expensive works of art,” I stress. We’re completely over budget but he flat out doesn’t care. He spares no expense. It sort of drives me crazy.

And makes me admire him even more.

He shakes his head. “I’ve never seen a person so obsessed with rugs before.”

“That’s because I have an idea in my head I can’t shake.” I tap my forehead. “And it sucks because I’m forever disappointed in every stupid rug I see.”

“That does it. I’m calling her right now and we’ll make an appointment to see her tomorrow. She can create whatever you want, she’s that good.” He whips out his phone and starts scrolling through his contacts. “Actually, I’ll text her, see if she’s available in the morning.”

“Archer, we only have a few days until we’re open. No way can she get them done in time.” I shake my head, shocked he would go to such lengths to please me.

“Then we’ll throw some solid color rugs out for a few days to cover while I insist she rush the process. Trust me, they’ll work on the rugs twenty-four-seven if I pay her right.”

“They’re not worth that much . . .” I start, but he silences me with a look that I find so incredibly sweet and sexy I feel my heart crack a little more every time I see it.

Like right now. It’s cracking wide open, all for Archer.

“If it makes you happy, it’s worth it. You’ve already sketched out what you wanted for me, remember?”

I nod, a little embarrassed that we’re having this discussion over freaking rugs. “That you’re willing to go to such lengths over something you don’t know what it’s going to look like says a lot.”

“Like I’m crazy?” His smile grows, that dimple of his flashing and I lean in, giving it a kiss.

“I’m the crazy one.”
Crazy for you . . .

Just thinking that freaks me out a little.

“Yeah, you are, baby,” he drawls. I love it when he calls me baby. My stomach flutters as he leans in closer, and I can make out every speck of stubble on his cheeks, see the tiredness in his dark brown eyes. He looks as exhausted as I feel and I have the sudden urge to comfort him.

“You’re definitely crazy though,” I say, entranced with the gold flecks in his brown eyes, the way they look at me full of so much emotion. Emotion I can’t quite figure out but I don’t want to. It’s a little scary to contemplate, and I’m not ready to face it yet. “You’re drastically over budget.”

“You’re the one who put the budget on me. The sky’s the limit for this place. I already told you that.” He kisses me, his lips lingering, and just like that I want him.

He makes me want to lose all control . . . and gladly.

Pulling back, I roll my eyes. The budget I tried to get him to agree to has flown right out the window. No wonder he drives his father crazy. Don Bancroft plans and plots to the finest detail. He has a list and a chart and a spreadsheet for every little thing. He doesn’t go a penny over budget unless he’s absolutely forced to, at least according to the stories my brother told me. And when he does go over budget, he’s grumbling and griping the entire time.

Whereas Archer tends to fly by the seat of his pants and hope like hell it all comes together. It worked for him before with Hush. I know it’s going to work this time around too with Crave. I can feel it. His love and excitement for this opening far outshines anything else.

Well, his excitement for me is pretty shiny too. Love? Yeah, I doubt that, but I’m going to revel in what we share while we have it. Because it’s fleeting, I know this.

I think he knows it too.

Our two weeks together are almost up, and I can hardly stand the thought of being away from him.

“We shouldn’t have your friend make those rugs. I’m sure I can find something that’ll work. I like the solid color idea. It’s simple. Won’t put me through so much torture while I look for the perfect pattern. Now I just need to find the perfect color.” I turn away from him, my finger poised to resume scrolling, and he touches my arm, causing me to look at him again.

“I already texted her. We’ll meet with her tomorrow first thing. Your work day is officially over.” He smiles, softening his demanding words. “I’ll take you to dinner if you’d like.”

“Where?” I ask breathlessly, my arm tingling from his touch. His palm is wide, his fingers long, and he’s smoothing his hand up and down my arm, making my breath come a little quicker. “I’m kinda tired. It’s been a long day.”

“We could stay here tonight. There are a couple of suites available. We could order room service, maybe?” He raises his brows, waiting for my answer.

I’ve wanted to try out those outdoor bathtubs built for two since I first saw one. Working with Archer has turned into a kind of torturous foreplay, one I both delight and agonize in. All the wanting and the yearning throughout the day, the lingering glances and the quick touches.

Archer Bancroft makes me feel like a confident, smart, and desirable woman. And I’m going to wield my newfound power on the very man who gave it to me.

Archer

“R
OOM SERVICE SOUNDS
perfect,” Ivy says after a too long pause. Hell, for a minute there I thought she was going to say no.

It was slow at Hush, which worked out in my favor since I spent half of my time in Calistoga lately. Always with Ivy by my side, helping me, offering her suggestions, guiding me when I went off track, me pushing her when she was being too conservative.

First day in, I realized pretty quickly we make a good team. There are enough differences between us which balance our personalities and allow us to work well together. Hard to notice when in the past, all we ever did was argue every time we came together.

But the arguing was a result of all that troublesome sexual attraction getting in the way. Not that it’s disappeared. Hell no. But we’re taking care of that issue every single night. We’re both exhausted after a heavy and long workday, but we always make time for each other. In bed. Wrapped around each other, naked limbs entangled. My ultimate task of the day is making Ivy moan with pleasure.

I’m falling for her. Hard. Fast. I don’t want her to leave. She feels like a true partner in every sense of the word.

That scares the shit out of me.

Working side by side with Ivy since she came here has been exhilarating. Getting to know her, watching her in her element has left me impressed. She may be young and at an early point in her career, but she’s smart and instinctive, with excellent taste. Without a doubt, I know my resort is going to look unbelievable when we’re finished.

I just hope we can wrap it all up and have it ready in the next few days. That’s the only thing making me anxious.

Well, that and the fact that as soon as Crave opens, Ivy’s gone. Out of my life.

Fuck, that fills me with so much despair I can barely stand thinking about it. She doesn’t think I’ll stick. And sometimes I doubt myself too. I don’t want to subject her or myself to a relationship that’s doomed to fail.

But are we really doomed? I don’t know. I’m so used to thinking that way, it’s hard to believe anything else.

“So you want to get a room? Or eat here in the office then head on home?” I definitely don’t want the formality of my office this evening, eating at my desk, talking business like we’ve been doing constantly since I’ve brought her here.

I want to be in a suite tonight, alone with her and shut off from the rest of the world. We can eat, plan our schedule for tomorrow, and then indulge in each other. My favorite part of the day is the nights. Being alone with Ivy.

Being inside Ivy.

How will I feel, though, when it’s all over? Normally, with women, it’s never an issue. Hell, I don’t allow women to become this close to me ever. Their expectations grow to insurmountable proportions, and I’m left fending off their disappointment and sense of abandonment.

I have this feeling that with Ivy, it will become difficult to let her out of my sight, let alone out of my life. I’ll be the one with the sense of abandonment when she leaves me.

“How about I call the order in and you go get us a suite?” I suggest.

She smiles, her hazel eyes sparkling. When she looks at me like that, I feel ten feet tall and like I can do no wrong. It’s too easy, what we share.

I remember complaining to Gage that it made me nervous when things were too easy. I should be feeling that way at this very moment.

But all I can do is think about how pretty she is. How much I want to kiss her. How I enjoy spending every waking moment with her. Every sleeping moment with her too.

“Sounds perfect. I’ve been wanting to try one of those outdoor bathtubs, you know,” she admits coyly. “Do you want me to order for you? I love how the menu is always changing.”

That’s because I hired a world-class chef who’s a pain in my ass and worth every penny I pay him. “Yeah, order me something. You know what I like. I’ll come find you in about ten minutes, okay? I have a few things I need to wrap up first.”

“All right.” Shutting her laptop, she stands and I grab her, pulling her into my arms. She turns more fully into me, her gaze meeting mine, eyes large and unreadable as she grips my tie and pulls me in for a kiss. I bury my hands in her hair, messing it up completely, not giving a shit. I love it when she’s messy and looking dazed, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from our constant kissing.

Damn it, I have it bad for this woman. And I don’t really care if anyone knows it or not. Even Matt.

Even Gage.

Yeah, I need to tell Gage. They both need to know what’s going on. Not that I’m coughing up the money, not yet. They said she didn’t count, but damn it, she counts to me. But I won’t be paying off any sort of bet until I put a ring on her finger.

I can’t believe I’m contemplating putting a ring on Ivy’s finger.

“I’ll see you in a bit then?” she murmurs when I finally break the kiss. Her face is turned up to mine, her lips still slightly pursed, her lids heavy, giving her a sultry, sexy look. Her scent surrounds me, heady and sweet, and I’m tempted to jump her right here. Wouldn’t be the first time we fucked around on top of my desk. Last time, I’d pushed her skirt up, tugged her panties aside, and made her come with just my tongue in record time. Had to, since there’d been a meeting I needed to attend and they were all waiting for me.