Loving Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 2) Page 3

  “I’m starving. Let’s grab a quick bite before going to the party.”

  “I’ve already eaten with Bree.”

  He sighs on the other end of the phone. “Fine. I’ll have a couple Power Bars. Come up to my room.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Don’t be a jerk, Reese. I didn’t do anything wrong. Quit treating me like I have.”

  “I think you’re being the jerk now. I’ll be up in a minute.” I hang up before he can say anything more.

  I open Finn’s door and find him sitting on his bed finishing off a Coca Cola with his Power Bars, and I feel a little bit guilty. “It’s just weird. All of it,” I say.

  Finn pats the bed beside him. “I didn’t know Sam was going to be here. You have to believe me.”

  I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that doubt clouds my mind, but looking at Finn’s face and the way he’s focusing his full energy on me, I know he’s telling the truth. “I do.”

  “I still have no idea why Lawson was in my room. As soon as you bailed, he left, too.”

  “You mean you and Sam were left alone?”

  “Seriously, Reese, this is what we’re going to do on a rare night off?”

  “I have the night off because I sent a guest away in an ambulance, and I pretty much suck at any kind of supervisory job.”

  “You were fired by your father?” He raises his eyebrows at me.

  “Don’t call him my father. He hasn’t done anything to earn that title. And no, I did not get fired. I quit.”

  Finn shakes his head—nothing but disapproval flying through the air. “I stayed at the lodge this fall because of you. You can’t walk away.”

  “I know. I’m just…just overwhelmed. Do we really have to go to that party with all those people?” I trace the outline of the butterfly on his neck, and he tenses at my touch.

  “Maybe we can be a little late,” he smiles back.

  When Finn kisses me, the anxieties of the day fade away in a fierce rush of desire, and I let him kiss me hard and long, his hands softening the tensions built up inside as they run over my body. I tell myself to breathe lest I pass out from the need of his touch. “Tell me everything’s going to be okay,” I whisper.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispers into the side of my hair. But I’m not sure I believe him. My whole life, I’ve been the strong one because I had to be. Who else was going to take care of Blake? At first it was liberating to learn the truth, but all I’ve felt since I started working for Ted in my new roles is inadequacy and self-doubt and fear. Maybe living in a perpetual state of ignorance was easier after all. But when Finn lowers himself on top of me, enveloping me with not only his body but the promise of his heart, a part of me melts away the doubts and insecurities, at least long enough to enjoy this night with my boyfriend.

  “Don’t stop,” I whisper into ear, and what I really mean is don’t stop loving me because I can't take any more heartache.

  When Finn and I step off the chair lift at the top of the mountain, the party is in full swing. The bass of the music playing from a makeshift DJ stand on the patio next to the old restaurant is making the ground vibrate. Tinley and Murphy are making out in a booth inside the restaurant, and though they are in plain sight, from the floor-to-ceiling windows, they don’t care. “Hey, maybe we should try that someday,” says Finn, jabbing me in the ribs and pointing at the window.

  “In your dreams,” I say, laughing.

  “Honey, that would be a tame dream for me.”

  “You wish,” I say. “Come on. Let’s get a drink.” I drag Finn toward the bar and order two beers. Bree and Jeremy are playing horseshoes. The last thing I need is a tongue-lashing from Jeremy right now as I’m sure Bobby has called him about my early exit, so Finn and I go inside the restaurant.

  “Hey, break it up!” yells Finn at Murphy and Tinley when we settle into a booth in the back of the room. Neither of us can stop laughing when Tinley frantically scrambles up from the booth, tugging her bra back into place.

  “Oh, it’s just you! You heathen! You scared me to death.”

  “I’m the heathen? Man, I’m going to miss you,” says Finn, smiling.

  “Well, for your information, Finn. I am going to miss you, too. She walks over to the table and plants a big kiss on Finn’s cheek followed by mine. “You crazy kids have fun. We’ll catch you outside.” She grabs Murphy’s hand. He follows her out the door like a puppy being led by its mother.

  “That guy is going to be a wreck when he has to say goodbye to that girl,” I say.

  “I heard he’s going to try to transfer to a community college in LA.”

  “I don’t doubt that he could get into the school. He’s smarter than he lets on, but no way is he going to be able to afford living in California,” I say.

  “Maybe Tinley’s parents will let him move into their mansion.”

  “Ha! Like that would ever happen.”

  An awkward silence floats between us. Finn reaches across the table and twirls a strand of my hair around his fingers, his green eyes calming my beating heart. “Tell me,” I say.

  “About what?” he asks.

  “Tell me about your relationship with Samantha.”

  Finn sighs. “I told you already, Reese. We dated a few times when she’d visit every summer with her family when she was in high school. She’s a couple years younger than me. Then, the summer after her senior year, we tried being more serious. It didn’t work….”

  “Because she slept with Lawson?”

  “Yeah, that was kind of a buzz kill.”

  “But if it hadn’t been for him, do you think you’d still be together?” I ask.

  “Who knows, Reese? Does it matter? I’m with you now.” He grabs both of my hands and squeezes them tight as he caresses them with his thumbs.

  “Tell me what you liked about her.”

  “Seriously? You’re starting to piss me off.” Finn releases my hands and sits against the back of the booth.

  “I’m sorry, but I think she has some sort of ulterior motive for being here that involves you.”

  “Well, you’re wrong, and even if you were right, you’re not giving me any credit for doing the right thing.”

  We both look in the direction of the front door when it opens and Lawson walks in. He looks around the room before settling his eyes on us. Great. Here we go.

  Finn stands up from the table and blocks my view like he’s my bodyguard. “Don’t make any trouble, Lawson. Nobody wants you here.”

  “Look. I came to see you this afternoon, and I didn’t get a chance to tell you what I have to say.” He laughs. “I guess you could say we have a common problem prowling the grounds, but I digress.”

  “Get the hell out of here.” Finn shoves Lawson in the chest, and he stumbles backward toward the adjoining booth.

  “Hey, whoa—listen, I’m here to apologize, asshole, not to fight.”

  I move Finn to the side so I can see Lawson. “Both of you cut it out. You sure have a funny way of apologizing, Lawson, when the first chance you get, you insult my boyfriend.”

  “Well, I guess old habits die slowly,” he says. “But I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you, and it won’t happen again.”

  “Damn straight it won’t,” says Finn.

  “Yeah, sure, I guess you’re not going to hear me anyway. I’ll be outside if you want to carry on this conversation. I have a hot blonde—who’s a hell of a lot more stimulating than this conversation—waiting for me to pitch horseshoes. You two participating in the tournament?”

  “We might watch,” I say.

  Lawson smiles, his eyes twinkling. “I promise to put on a good show then.” He turns back toward the door before Finn has a chance to respond.

  “That guy’s a real dick,” he says.

  I pull Finn into the same side of the booth as me and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing the tips of the wings on his butterfly tattoo. “You’re hot when you’re jealous,” I say.
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  He looks at me. “I am not jealous of Lawson Oakley. I just don’t like to share the same air space.”

  “Then share my space instead.” I pull his face close to my neck until his lips find the sweet spot that makes my palms sweat. When I’m with Finn, there is nothing else I want to fill my mind. I wish these times could last forever.

  We walk outside holding hands. The air still holds onto humidity that hangs thick in the night. A small group is jamming to Maroon 5 songs that blare from someone’s iPhone. Another group lingers around the bar, a ready drink within reach, while others watch the couples’ horseshoe tournament in the sand pits behind the old restaurant. Lawson is apparently pitching horseshoes with some success as he is high-fiving the guys around him and planting kisses on the blonde bombshell who plays opposite him. She’s not staff. I wonder if she lives in Tremont City.

  Finn stands up to get me a drink. I close my eyes and will myself to relax and enjoy the evening. Then my phone dings. I glance at the screen, not recognizing the number of the text.

  I think you look beautiful.

  What the hell? I look at Lawson, but he is pitching a horseshoe while holding another in his other hand. He seems oblivious to my presence. No one else is staring in my direction. Probably just a random wrong number. I click off my phone and put it in my purse, taking the drink from Finn when he returns, a strawberry daiquiri in a plastic cup.

  “Wow, finery,” I say. “It will go great with my bag of pretzels,” I say, holding up one of the treats sent up the mountain for the college staff tonight.

  “Nothing but the best for staff on the last weekend of the summer.”

  “It just doesn’t seem real that most of these people will be gone in a couple of days. It’s going to be so weird.”

  “And quiet,” adds Finn. “The entertainment on the lawn will close down except on weekends, and half the cleaning staff won’t be needed because the rooms will be empty, but give it a couple more months. Come December, this place will be crawling with tourists again, though the winter vibe is entirely different.”

  “How so?” I ask.

  “Sure, there will be guests wanting to chill at the spa, but there will also be a lot of serious visitors wanting to tear up the slopes. The lodge will be quiet during the day, but at night everyone will be nursing body aches and pains and living life grand at the local bars.”

  “I suppose the underused library will be hopping, too.”

  “Yeah, there’ll be a roaring fire all day and night. You won’t get much private time there.”

  I settle back against Finn’s side and take a sip of my daiquiri. “I’m really glad we met, Finn.”

  “Me, too, Reese.” He tips up my chin and kisses me on the lips. I close my eyes and listen to the calming rhythms of the guitars strumming nearby. When my phone dings again, I ignore it. Nothing could be more important than this moment on this mountain with this guy.

  “Are you going to get that?” he asks.

  “Nope,” I say.

  “Good.” Finn pulls me closer as we settle in for a peaceful end to a stressful day, letting the background noise of the crowd and the music soothe away any worries that try to take up rent in our minds. Later we might play euchre or even try a hand at horseshoes, but I don’t really care. As far as I’m concerned, this is the perfect start to the end of the last weekend of my rollercoaster summer at Tremont Lodge.

  Chapter 4:

  As I am preparing for work today, I am reminded of my perfect night with Finn, even though he had to fill in at the Winter Haven Restaurant when the guitar player for the lodge band got sick at 10:00, and I decided to go home alone to my room. Watching reruns of Saturday Night Live capped off the perfect evening. And even though I have no idea if Jeremy, Bobby, and Connor have spread rumors of my ineptitude all over the lodge, I’m prepared to face the day with a fresh start, though sucking up has never been one of my strengths.

  I turn my phone back on to text Finn a good morning message. There’s nothing worse than getting texts during the night, so I never leave my phone on. The only time that backfired on me was when Blake was sixteen and he started driving. He got pulled over for going fifty miles an hour in a thirty-five mile per hour zone and freaked out that our grandparents were going to take his car away, especially since he’d just left a party with underage drinking. When he’d gotten home, my room was his first stop which pissed me off because I’d been having a perfectly nice dream about Channing Tatum, if I remember correctly. And since he didn’t get any sympathy from me when I found out about the stupid chances he’d taken at that party, there was no sense adapting my self-imposed no phones after 11:00 rule.

  But when I turn on my phone this morning, it’s clear someone didn’t want me to get a restful night of sleep.

  Blake: Ever feel like you need a change?

  Bree: Jeremy promises to be nice today if you show up for work.

  Finn: I know you don’t have your phone on, but I wanted to tell you again that I love you.

  I sigh. Maybe today won’t be so bad after all. Plus, it would be nice to have Blake meet Finn before his busy last year of high school begins. I can’t believe my baby brother is that old already. It sickens me to know that his father—and the only man I knew as father—abandoned him when Mr. Oakley dumped money into his wallet to keep the secret of my mother’s death quiet, be it an accident or murder. It’s one thing to not want me since he found out I wasn’t biologically his daughter, but to not want Blake—his own flesh and blood—is deplorable. My phone dings, the same unfamiliar number from last night popping up on the screen.

  Looking forward to seeing you again today.

  I drop my phone to the bed, clear now that last night’s phone message hadn’t been a wrong number. Somehow Lawson has to be behind this little stunt, and he’s going to hear from me today. Nobody messes with me and gets away with it. He may still hold some little spell over Mr. Oakley who can’t quite cut the ties with Lawson over some loyalty to Lawson’s mother, but I don’t owe him anything. If Ted Oakley really wants to see how I can handle more responsibility at Tremont Lodge, then I’m going to start by dealing with the trash problem.

  After slipping on my pantyhose, one of the stupidest inventions of the 20th century, though a necessary, old-fashioned requirement for a female management role at Tremont Lodge, I attach small silver hoop earrings, and brush out my long hair, clipping it back on one side with a butterfly barrette because it reminds me of Finn. Today is going to be a bear of a day, starting with a visit to Lawson and ending with a wedding planning meeting with Samantha and Anthony. Assessing my hideously formal, navy blue suit in the mirror, I add a dab of pink lipstick for a personal touch and open the door to face the day head-on.

  The lawn is alive with activity for such an early Saturday morning, but when it’s the last Saturday of the summer season, I guess some people try to suck as much out of the day as possible. I imagine it will be hopping late into the night. I’m really going to miss seeing all the little kids running around kicking soccer balls or turning somersaults, like I imagine I used to do the summer I was five and vacationed here before my life turned upside down in its own slow-motion somersault. I wave at Tinley who is walking into the south side of the lodge to finish her last day cleaning with Helen. I can imagine how blubbery Helen is going to be saying goodbye to Tinley. I make a mental note to check in on her later.

  Were it any other Saturday in the summer at the lodge, I know Lawson would still be snoozing away a Friday night hangover, but since Ted let him come back to the lodge after his trouble with me, he’s required to report early to his new assignment: answering questions for guests at the concierge desk. He’s sitting there as I open the door to the lodge, his blonde hair reflecting the sun that’s streaming in the window. It’s easy to see why Lawson always has a different girl hanging on him. He’s hot. There’s no denying it, from his west coast surfer look with the hair and muscles package to his easy flirting dialogue. But he’s a tr
oubled soul with deep entitlement problems who lets his anger issues rise to the surface and turn everything about him into an ugly mess.

  “What can I help you with?” Lawson asks me, not looking up from the Sports Illustrated magazine he is reading, a cup of steaming hot coffee sitting on the desk despite the fact that I’d clearly dictated to staff that all food and drink had to be kept out of view of guests. Glad to know he is respecting my authority.

  “Well, for starters, you could look at the guests when they ask you questions. Eye contact is kind of important for customer service.”

  Lawson takes a long sip of his coffee, just to spite me. “But you’re not a guest. Or an employee for that matter. You’re Ted’s family. I don’t owe you anything.”

  I ignore his smart-ass reply. “Stop sending me creepy text messages,” I say. “Or giving directions to tourist destinations in Tremont City will seem like a dream job compared to your next assignment. And even better, I’ll convince Mr. Oakley to fire your sorry ass and send you packing for good.”

  Lawson slowly sets down his coffee cup and stares into my eyes, daring me to blink first. And when he speaks, a hint of angry Lawson is front and center. “I didn’t send you any text messages. If I could avoid contact with you, I’d do it, but since we are forced to share the same space, it might behoove you to be nice.”

  “Me? I have to be nice? Seriously, Lawson, you’re a real piece of work,” I say. “Just stop sending the messages—or you’ll be sorry.”

  “Maybe you should consider your new friend Samantha as the originator of whatever is freaking you out. Because that girl doesn’t have a nice bone in her body.”

  I take a deep breath to compose myself and to give myself a chance to consider Lawson’s words. I suppose it makes sense that Samantha might be trying to make trouble for Finn and me. Funny that Lawson could actually be my ally. “What do you know about Sam?” I ask, smiling fakely at Lawson and hoping he doesn’t notice.

  “She’s a bitch, only interested in money.”

  “Is that why she cheated on Finn with you—because you have money that he doesn’t?”