CHAPTER FIVE

Chris leaped up the steps and slid his phone in his pocket. The nervous energy he’d been carrying around had turned into something else. Hope. Having taken matters into his own hands, he was ready to enjoy the evening.

“Where did you disappear to?” Claire asked as she caught Chris slipping back into the house.

He avoided eye contact and answered, “Sorry about that. I had to take care of a few things.”

“My baby brother is a workaholic,” Charlie teased.

Claire pointed a finger and used her best authoritarian voice. “Well, no more work tonight. Let’s bust open the piñata, and then we are watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall.”

The girls clapped excitedly while the guys exchanged a look that acknowledged they were all drawing a hard line at watching a sappy romantic movie, but they kept their mouths shut. If they played it right, they could sneak away to play cards and drink while the girls watched the movie.

Claire brought in a heart-shaped piñata, and Jake helped her tie it to a hook in the arch that separated the kitchen and dining room. He looked down adoringly at Claire as she ordered him to lower and raise it until she decided it was at the perfect height.

Another one bites the dust.

Searching for Elle and Ryan, Chris found them snuggled up on the couch, talking quietly to one another as if no one else was at the party.

“Charlie, you can go first. Consider it my welcome-back-to-Sweetbriar gift.” Claire bowed her head to Charlie and offered him the bat.

“Aw, shucks. You shouldn’t have,” Charlie said as he took the bat and surveyed the piñata as if it were a baseball he was going to hit out of the park.

“One more thing.” Claire pulled out a blindfold from earlier and motioned for Charlie to lean down so she could tie it around his head.

Charlie was a big guy, nearly as tall and big as Chris. He looked ridiculous blindfolded, trying to find the piñata as he held the colorful toy bat. Taking a small swing, Charlie just made contact with the hanging heart in front of him before pulling back. Stepping closer and positioning his feet, he smiled, and then he exploded toward the papier-mâché. The piñata popped, and pieces went everywhere. The room erupted into laughter and squeals as everyone searched around the room to find the prizes Claire had stuffed inside.

Chris leaned back on the kitchen island and watched as the others picked up mini bottles of liquor, candy cigarettes, and Valentine’s-Day-themed candy, and more. Claire had thought of everything, as she always did.

His gaze collided with Tori’s, and she froze in place, crouched down low to the ground. His eyes went to her hand where her red fingertips grasped a Trojan wrapper, and he lifted his eyebrows, feigning surprise. She narrowed her eyes and stood. She pushed her shoulders back and slipped the condom down the front of her dress, not breaking eye contact with him.

They weren’t five minutes into the movie before Tori stifled a yawn, the wine fog threatening to lull her to sleep. After quietly shifting off the leather couch where she’d sat between Charlie and Claire, she waved off Charlie, who’d shot her a questioning glance. The group had been quiet during the movie, an unusual occurrence with the boys around. Normally, she’d be thankful they were cooperating, but tonight she needed the noise and disorder to keep her distracted from the way Chris’ body had felt pressed up against her. Air. She needed to get some air and maybe some coffee. She swayed a little on her feet. First, air, then definitely, coffee.

Padding through the dark kitchen, she became conscious of her feet aching from the strappy, gold pumps wrapped around them. In seconds, she had removed them and pulled on a pair of Elle’s Uggs lying near the sliding glass door. A soft moan slipped out as the soft, warm boots hugged her feet. She shrugged on her jacket and pulled it tightly around her as she stepped outside onto the porch. The cold air was a welcome wake-up. The snow had stopped, but the night sparkled as the moon hit the white landscape. It was eerily quiet out with only the sound of the gentle breeze straining against the snow-covered trees.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia out here.” The gruff voice came from the doorway.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about me,” Tori said with a sarcastic laugh.

Chris stepped out onto the porch with two mugs in his hand, holding one out in her direction. “Here, drink this.”

Steam swirled up from the dark liquid. The aroma teased her nostrils, and her mouth watered. He was being suspiciously nice, but the warm, rich flavor she knew the mug contained won over her better judgment. She bit the side of her lip, hesitating for only a moment. “Fine, but only because Ryan makes the best coffee.”

Tori took a sip and closed her eyes as the black liquid warmed her entire body. After opening her eyes, she stared at Chris over her cup, watching him as he took a long drink. He looked downright domestic with one large hand wrapped around the mug and the other tucked in his jeans pocket. Something intimate was hanging between them as they shared coffee on the private oasis of Ryan’s back deck.

His voice broke through the silence of the night. “Sorry to hear about your apartment.”

Tori studied the shadow of his face in the dark. Is he trying to have a normal conversation, or is this another trap? Sighing, she decided she was too tired to think one step ahead of his every move. If it was a trap, well, she would walk right into it. At least, she’d had enough wine to dull the pain.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

Chris cleared his throat and shifted his feet on the wooden deck, making the frozen slats creak under his weight.

“I was thinking, since Claire’s place is so small…”

The sliding glass door opened, and Ryan poked his head out. “Everything settled then?”

“Is what settled?” Tori stiffened, a prick of dread running up her spine. Her instincts had been right. She had been cornered into a trap.

“I was, uh, just getting to that.” Chris looked from Ryan to Tori.

When Chris didn’t continue, Ryan spoke for him. “Chris has offered to let you stay in his house up here until the renovations are done at the apartment. We’ll be neighbors!”

Gawking and baffled that he would think this was a good idea, Tori searched for an excuse that wasn’t “There’s no way in hell I’m taking charity from him.” Ryan knew as well as anyone that she and Chris were continually butting heads. Even if he didn’t understand the true reason behind it.

“I’ve already moved my things to Claire’s house.”

“It could be weeks, or maybe months, until they get the apartment ready.” Ryan placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know you and Claire are close, but do you think she wants a roommate for a month?”

Tori started for the door, blocked by two large figures who didn’t budge as she stepped forward. Claire doesn’t mind, does she? She hated the idea that she would be inconveniencing her best friend almost as much as the thought of taking anything from Chris.

“Great. It’s settled.” Ryan smiled and retreated into the house, sliding the door closed, and leaving her alone again with Chris.

“You can’t be serious. You want me to stay at your house?” Her head spun, and it wasn’t from the wine.

Shrugging, he turned and placed one hand on the slider. “It’s nothing. You need a place to stay. I have a place. Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is.”

Chris shut the door behind him, leaving her standing alone in the wintry night. Something — the cold air, the coffee, or the thought of staying at Chris’ house — had nudged, or rather shoved, her into sobriety. No big deal? Sure, maybe to him.

Chris made his way down the hill to his house with an image of Tori’s haughty departure up the stairs and her biting words declaring she was staying at Ryan’s for the night replaying in his mind. It hadn’t deterred him in the least. On the contrary. He was thankful for the extra night to get the house ready.

One of his construction guys, Dax, was bringing up Tori’s things from her apartment and a few other things he had requested. He was sure he’d get another earful from her when she realized what he had done, but she’d need her things eventually, so what was the difference if he took care of it for her? Good Lord, she was stubborn.

The house smelled faintly of wood smoke, which he happened to enjoy, but he went about cleaning out the large fireplace in the living room and replacing the wall-plug air-fresheners throughout the two levels of the house.

Next, he grabbed the cleaning supplies from the laundry room and studied the bottles, trying to figure out what was what. The house had been used as a rental for the last two years, so he’d hired a service to clean the home after each guest left. The variety of cleaning bottles was a bit of a puzzle, but he grabbed a roll of paper towels and a bottle with the words all-purpose and headed up to spot-check the bathrooms.

Sweat beaded up on his forehead, and he felt like a damn fool scrubbing at a toilet that looked plenty clean to him. Why was he so worried about everything being perfect? Tori had seen his other homes and knew he wasn’t ultra-tidy. He liked to think he fell somewhere between the two extremes — clean freak and slob.

A voice bellowed up the stairs interrupting his thoughts on cleanliness. “Chris, you here?”

He shuffled down the stairs to greet Dax, who carried a large box with him.

“Thanks, Dax. I owe you.” Chris took the heavy cardboard box from him. “Are there more?”

Dax motioned toward the door. “One more box and then a couple bags with the other items you asked for.”

“Great. Let me help you so you can get back to your family. How was the road up?”

Dax led Chris out to his truck where another large box and a few plastic bags sat in the back seat. “Nothing the Raptor couldn’t handle,” he said as he patted the hood of his new Ford pickup.

Dax had gone on and on about the truck since he bought it last month. Chris had needled him a bit over the big, heavy-duty vehicle, but tonight he was thankful. It had come in handy with the roads like they were.

Chris grabbed the last of the items as Dax jumped back in his rig. “Be careful heading back down, and thanks again.”

Chris carried the last of the items in through the garage and deposited the box on the kitchen floor. He hummed loudly as he took the stairs two at a time before entering the master bedroom, bags in hand.

The master was his favorite room in the house. A large sleigh-bed was in the center of the room with a sitting area on the far side, looking out onto a beautiful view of the lake. A fireplace on the wall in front of the bed was double-sided and connected to the master bathroom that was complete with a claw-foot tub and an extra-large shower with multiple showerheads.

He had worked with a designer to create the perfect vacation getaway home until he was ready to settle down in it himself. He hadn’t had any complaints. He looked forward to waking up in the king-sized bed with the sun rising on the lake below, but he’d have to wait a little bit longer.

Chris carefully re-made the bed with white satin sheets. He couldn’t resist running his hands back and forth on the smooth fabric, imagining the way they would feel while lying in bed, rolling around with a certain stubborn woman.