Making Waves (The Happy Endings Resort Book 20) Read online

  Oh my God! His words had set me on fire; us, enjoy, bed, us, gorgeous. I think even his other words about tasting, smelling, and sounds had me thinking of taking the night into an unfriendly territory fueled by wild passion that was not going to happen, unfortunately. Silly thoughts I silently told myself by the time we were back to our room. Not sure they worked completely.

  I wasn’t sure why, but sleeping together in the Inn seemed different than all of the times we had shared a bed on business trips. I had the overwhelming urge to snuggle up to him. Feeling the warmth of his body up next to mine… I imagined that it would feel so comfy, cozy. In the end, I was a good girl—a frustrated, horny girl—and stayed on my own side of the king-size bed.

  I have to say I didn’t mind when he left the bed in the morning to go downstairs to the cafe and returned bringing us breakfast in bed.

  “Look European style continental breakfast and coffee to your liking.” I had to laugh as Jack pulled different items from the pockets of his baggy khaki shorts after he set our coffees on the nightstand next to me.

  “Rolls, fruit, jams, and butters… anything else you want to pull out of your pants?” I felt my face heat as he wiggled his eyebrows at me.

  “I do declare, Miss Mitzi, that you are a bit forward. I’m a gentleman.” Was that his way of telling me that he was gay and definitely not interested in me or my internal plumbing? Not going there, I skipped right over his comment.

  “Did you know that this Inn and several around here housed prominent Civil War dignitaries and their families?” I had been looking on a tourist site for the city and stumbled onto all kinds of things.

  “For some reason, I’m shocked that you like straight up history. Do they show pictures of their clothing?” I would’ve thrown a pillow at him if I wasn’t so nicely propped up in bed.

  “I am not a dumb, airhead blonde… and I have also found quirky items too and while I was doing that a charming story popped up about a woman who walks around town wearing her pajamas and slippers. I don’t even know more about the romance story, but I absolutely love her style. She’s the fun girl. The girl that would dance terrible to hip hop and not even care if everyone watched and pointed. I just adore that attitude!”

  “Of course you would love that but you wouldn’t do it. You have a style all your own… and speaking of that, it’s time to go… time for you to get ready. Drop the tablet, finish your coffee, and get moving. I want to see a few more things and visit some breweries that make craft beer.” I wrinkled my nose thinking about tasting beer, as wine sounded much better to sample but it was his vacation too, so I was game to give it a try or watch him. Watching him was one of my favorite pastimes.

  “What shall I wear today since you won’t give me a clue where we are going to be staying next? I want to arrive appropriately dressed.” I was already up and looking through suitcases and thinking about how I needed to hang everything up… “Hey, are we going to stay at the next place longer than a night?” I breathed a sigh of relief when Jack said the remainder of our stay was at a resort.

  Checked out of the Inn, Jack put my luggage into the back of a rented sports utility vehicle. Not exactly what I pictured for our vacation but we did have his surfboard to transport. And maybe I was better off in a big safe car instead of a jazzy, shiny bright red sports car with the way he drove. I swear to God he made me wish for a crash helmet even if it would ruin my perfectly combed hair. It amazed me that he could get up to such high speeds in such short distances. Every stoplight was like the green go light or green flag signaling the start of the race. God forbid someone went too slowly in front of him, he was always quick to swerve around them when he had an open spot. Fortunately, we made it unharmed to every place he wanted to see and he got to sip a few beers—not too much because he insisted on getting back behind the wheel.

  Still too full from breakfast to eat lunch, but still dying to try the café food, we stopped by and got a to-go order that really didn’t make sense since the whole idea was to enjoy the surroundings. Jack just didn’t want me to be disappointed after I had pointed out items on their delicious sounding menu. I swear I should be as big as a house with my love for all food and that was why I went to the gym, not to mention I usually talked Jack into sharing. He didn’t seem to mind and I always let him select his item first that way I didn’t feel like I was pressuring him into something just because I suggested it. Good thing we had similar taste in food. By passing the sit down to munch spot, we headed away from Charleston and away from the coast.

  “So I take it that we are off to a country spot? No coastal views? You didn’t find us a spot on the beach where you can just stroll out at sunrise to catch some waves?” I had only seen Jack surf once or twice—maybe three times counting a fake-ish, modeling setup—in the last three years of our partnership. However, on all occasions so much was going on that I never really focused on him.

  “You are not going to get anything out of me about the resort. I will say it is not on the beach but there is water involved and I may be able to use my board there too for flotation.” He started laughing after glancing over at me.

  “Please do not tell me that I dressed all wrong.” He laughed even harder.

  “Mitzi, do you ever dress according to an actual place or event? You are you and I love that about you. I can’t imagine you being any different.” I smiled, believing him.

  Chapter Ten

  Jack

  Leaving the city behind, the countryside changed to green vegetation everywhere along with the lack of civilization, back to nature, and I wondered what was running through Mitzi’s mind. Not a long drive really, The Happy Endings Resort sign came into view and I turned off the highway and followed the road to a small gatehouse. Greeted by a young man, I gave our reservation information, and he wrote down the car’s license plate. Telling us to enjoy our stay, a pretty young woman stepped up to our vehicle and introduced herself as Rory as she handed us a map of the property, circling where our rental was located.

  Thanking her, we followed the road right around the lake to the cabin number we had been given. I looked over at my passenger briefly to see that she was silently taking it all in; activity areas, a swim area, a boat launch area, trailers, cabins, tents, people walking and riding bicycles. She must have been accumulating data because it didn’t take long before she spoke up and I prayed her words weren’t ones of disappointment.

  “Well, at least no canvas thingies… tents… that would’ve been a definite deal breaker.” Mitzi was rambling on about the other available lodging at the campground as we pulled up in front of our cabin. Parked, she was quick to grab things in the back of the car to help me unload or maybe just to grab her stuff so that she could make a wardrobe change.

  “No, never, I knew better,” I said, ready to carry everything and let her just take it all in, but she was right there beside me smelling like gardenias.

  “Thank God!” she exclaimed, looking up to the clear blue sky. “I’m sure you do love camping… you’re a very manly, outdoorsy type,” she commented, moving forward through the dirt, struggling with her enormous Singer Summerfield travel handbag and one of her rolling luggage. She was so proud that she’d fit everything into her two new cases… and I knew the brand because she would never use any other bag designer. “I am the look out the window at the pine trees and mountains type with a roaring fire and hot cocoa or maybe looking around at nature from a lounging seat while sipping a cool drink in the summer.”

  “That’s why I got us a cabin by the lake… did you check out the view from the front porch?” Dumb question. I was sure she had tunnel vision after I unlocked the door and allowed her to enter the cabin.

  “This is a cute cabin.” I watched Mitzi’s pretty blonde head turning this way and that, assessing our accommodations. It seemed that it met with her approval because she wasn’t running back out the door to the car. “And I have a dressing room to hang everything and to get ready. Good idea to get us two room
s and I will even leave our bedroom closet all to you.” What the fuck?! I was ready to do a happy dance right there standing in the doorway of the room she dubbed as “girly city.”

  “You know what this reminds me of?” She had her hand to her chin, shaking her head. “There’s this old show about a fashionable woman who is forced by her husband to leave a fancy city life to live in the country with fresh air. This cabin is much better than their farm house, but she struts around draped in jewels, wearing high fashion.” Big grinning giggles accompanied her next revelations about our vacation. “That is so me… I’m Lisa Douglas and you’re the nature seeking hubby, but you are not uptight like him. You’re the much cooler version.”

  “Green Acres.” I laughed. “This place already looks better than their farm house and so far a pig hasn’t come wandering in the door. I’ve seen that show too.”

  There was something about the female character that definitely reminded me of Mitzi but it might just be the fashionable element. Maybe not as I watched her dive into her luggage and set up what I thought would be her room to stay and sleep in. She had a whole system to her packing and she brought along her own hangers—two large packages of wire hangers. Unrolling each garment, she explained that it was a trick to minimize wrinkles and then hung things up in the closet. She had an audience of one watching her every move as I had never seen her bring more than a garment bag for our two to three day trips. “Easiest to pack, before you say anything smart.”

  “Mommie Dearest would be very upset with you.” I laughed, lifting one of the wire hangers, Mitzi shook her head at me. “What did you pack? Do you have a ball gown in there?” I was sure she probably had something pretty close to one.

  “You said we were going to a resort. Not roughing it in the wilderness. And I may have a dress that would look great on Audrey Hepburn if she were to maybe be eating a donut while looking in the windows of Tiffany’s.”

  What is it with that movie? What is so glamorous or romantic about two fuckedup prostitutes—male and female—living in the same building trying to escape their clients or get one of them to commit to marriage? And name the damn cat for God sakes. Chicks love that movie and I don’t get it. In all fairness, it could be that I have read the book version and it has contributed to my opinion that I don’t see it as a romance. Not telling Mitzi any of that unless she asks. I can see her attraction to Holly Golightly and I would have to agree that Audrey Hepburn was stylish in the film version—maybe that’s the appeal. Had it been anyone else, it may have not come across as well.

  I couldn’t imagine Mitzi running off with another man. I guess I needed to face the fact that it could happen at some point. Seeing her happy, would either make me crazy and I’d have to give up my half of the partnership, or I would accept that she was happy and eventually find someone that could make me feel like she did. Hearing her mention that I was like the husband had me thinking about us living in the same house every day, sharing a bed on a permanent basis. Things would definitely be different than they had been in the past.

  There would be none of the sleeping on our own sides of a king-sized bed as we had always done. No, not even. If I had her the way I wanted her, she would be perched on my dick, rising and falling with her beautiful tits bouncing as she rode me. I knew that her body was incredible as I had seen it enough. It was not hard to visualize her naked with me. She would be moaning and calling my name, squeezing me tight as she quaked and caused me to release into her. I would be bare, no barriers between us, I would enjoy her velvet walls, and spoon her after we were more than satisfied.

  I wanted to take her back at the Inn after our incredible dinner and walk—that was romantic. When she came out of the bathroom after brushing her teeth and let her dress hit the floor, giving me a full view of her sexy as fuck lingerie. I quickly took my turn tending to my dental hygiene and my blue balls. When I finally emerged from the bathroom, she had dimmed all the lights but one on my side of the bed and she had slipped between the sheets. Way over to the right side of the bed was still no help, my guy was ready to go all over again and I refused to take him back in my hand. I was certain it wouldn’t help and I would be right back to a painful erection. Visualizing nonsexual things and counting in my head until I fell asleep was what I had to resort to when all I wanted was to pleasure the gorgeous woman mere inches away.

  I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it in the double bed we would be sharing. Why the hell did she want to torture me? What had I ever done to her? How could I tell her to sleep by herself in the other room away from me when it was the last thing I ever wanted? I just hoped that she wouldn’t freak out if she woke to me poking her innocently in the backside. And for the love of God, would she stop dropping her clothes so casually in front of me. Time to crack open that case of beer I said to myself and took off out of Mitzi’s dressing room to the safety of the porch.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mitzi

  Done with setting up my boudoir, I whipped off my outfit that was all wrong for the resort. I was happy that I had packed extra clothing—nothing completely right for the campground, but I could make them work downsizing my accessories. Thank goodness I brought only Fritzi Mitzi sandals and I needed to thank Jack for buying me the cutest pineapple sneakers. I was in luck with those in case he got the wild idea to explore off the beaten path—and another bonus, I had a few items that went perfectly with them.

  Comfortable in a new pair of sandals and a loose fitting swing dress with panties on beneath to prevent indecent exposure charges from the park ranger, I had questions for Jack. I also needed to assure him that I wasn’t mad. He looked a bit shocked at my reaction to the whoa… big, shocking surprise locale.

  “Whatever made you think to bring me back to nature?” I asked, finding Jack since he had disappeared once I started changing.

  “You said you loved your vacations in the woods in a cabin,” Jack answered, raising a bottle of craft beer from a brewery we stopped at before heading out of Charleston.

  “Yes, a twelve thousand square foot one. It was a really big log cabin with stone all the way around the bottom half and big windows that looked out to the lake. Some people might call it a house or mansion but it was made out of logs, so what else would I call a place in the mountains?”

  My grandfather had it built several years ago so that he and my grandmother could hold big gatherings with everyone under the same roof. It was nice for a very long time—my entire childhood—until it wasn’t and then like my family, it disappeared from my life. But I refused to look back on that part of my life with anything but good memories. I forced a smile and looked at gorgeous Jack.

  “I’m afraid to ask the rest of my questions but what about the boating part? You mentioned being a pro at working small sailboats.” I nearly laughed in his gorgeous face that the sun was once again kissing with its rays… lucky sun.

  “Well, I am an expert with remote control sailboats that we controlled from the dock. I got so good at it that I had my own and I even challenged the boys to races. A few times I pretended to not know much when a new boy came along but in the end I suddenly caught on and often beat them. Sailboat Race Hustler.” I laughed because I could hear my father bragging about me… those were good times.

  “And lastly, you said you loved fishing?” His raised eyebrow just barely visible under his mop of hair was sexy and funny all at the same time.

  “That was true. I do love fishing as long as someone else cleans them and takes them off my hook as I pray they are okay to throw back in the water. If you set us up to fish, I’m in and I know exactly what to wear. I bought the cutest top with an abstract sardine print all over it and I even brought along a few pairs of shorts.” I did a little wiggle and reached for Jack’s beer. I didn’t usually like it but he got a variety case and the one he was drinking smelled good, peachy with a hint of grapefruit he had announced and I sniffed it.

  Funny how taking a swig, looking out to the lake reminded me of my da
d asking me to get him a beer while he sat on the dock fishing. He always let me take a drink after I opened it up and I thought it was so cool to be doing something that was a grown up thing. I think I missed him the most…

  “Hey, Mitzi, no long faces. Sorry, we should have gotten you something to drink with our lunch.” I was thankful that he thought it was the taste of his beer that had hit me. “Well, maybe I do have something for you.” What had he done? He did have an ice chest for his beer. Maybe he had a surprise for me. “Pineapple Bellini.” He presented me with a six pack of premixed splits of fizzy pineapple champagne cocktail.

  “I’m in!” I clapped my hands together for a brief second and then reached out to grasp the chilled bottle. “No need for a glass, we’re roughing it, camping.”

  That caused Jack to laugh as he set out bags that held our lunch. When I saw everything that he had ordered, I was suddenly happy that we didn’t skip that stop. Sitting on the porch in two vintage metal lawn chairs with an equally antique table, we chowed down—as Jack would say—a fab variety; a shrimp BLT, a duck confit salad, and a shrimp pasta that was cold from sitting and doubled perfectly as another side salad. Some people might complain about two items with shrimp, but no, not me a bona fide shellfish lover. I enjoyed every bite of our lunch, the Bellini, and the surprise cupcakes that tasted like Italian cookies.

  With a satisfied belly, I turned my chair to face out to the lake. It really was beautiful even if it wasn’t what I had pictured or prepared for in my head and then it hit me why we were truly there—business.

  “Everyone wants us to do more.”

  “That’s why I suggested our trip to look for inspiration.”

  “I don’t think a campground provides inspiration for a new fancier line of designer shoe wear.” What would I find greenery, dirt, water, hills, campers, and horseshoes? I’d have to dig deep into my imagination. Nature and high heels rarely went together.