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Retreat

Page 2

   


I stiffened my spine and narrowed my eyes. Unfortunately, my intimidation factor was nil considering I was dressed in comfy leggings and an oversized Henley that I stole from my ex. My outfit was great for traveling in, but not so great for trying to look like a badass who wouldn’t stand for the blatant indifference coming from a third of the trio who was supposed to be responsible for my health and wellbeing for the next seven days. I also wasn’t going to keep quiet over the overt hostility radiating off the one I couldn’t look away from. I was one of those women who was always a little unkempt and disheveled, so I had to work at appearing put together and polished. It was a constant battle every single morning as I got ready for work. I could pull off cute with minimal effort, but it took some time and some serious skill with both my clothes and my makeup to push me into the chic and professional sphere. Considering I had woken up at the ass crack of dawn, my wardrobe, hair, and war paint were nonexistent. With my unruly, wavy, strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, I was keenly aware that I looked more like Raggedy Ann than a highly successful market analyst who was also a street-savvy and independent woman. Or at least I had been, until I fell for the wrong guy and he proved otherwise.
The single pleasant member of the trio smiled again and inclined his head toward the bags sitting at our feet. When Em had booked the trip they had been very clear that this was an outdoor adventure. We would be venturing deep into the mountains on horseback and we were to leave any kind of technology and civilization behind us. There had been strict instructions on what we needed to pack, and as a result, the bag at my feet was stuffed full and contained mostly new and untried mountain appropriate attire. It was all stuff that would end up shoved in the back of my closet and then, years later, donated to Goodwill because I had very little use for any of it in my day-to-day life back in the Bay Area.
“Sutton and I will take your bags and show you where you’re bunking for the night. You ladies have about an hour before dinner, so you can relax and get freshened up.” Getting freshened up sounded delightful. Maybe if I put on some blush and drew my eyebrows in, I could get Mr. Personality—with the death stare—to take me seriously when I told him that his behavior was unacceptable.
The bored guy must have been Sutton because he took a step forward and bent to pick up Emrys’s bag. I thought I heard her sigh when he bent over but it could have been the air shifting and moving around me. The man, who looked like he didn’t belong anywhere near a place that was often referred to as the ‘Cowboy State’, took a few steps closer to me. I had no choice but to tilt my head back and look at him. I sucked in a breath as I was struck by the sharpest, clearest, most flawless pair of gray eyes I had ever seen in my life. They were the color of smoke and silver. His eyes cut through me like the honed blade of a knife as they raked over me, from my messy hair to the toes that had curled up in startled response where they were encased in a pair of super-comfy Uggs. Again, my choice in footwear had been great for traveling in, but not so great for leaving the most impactful first impression.
Cy’s voice when he spoke was deep and raspy. It sounded slightly broken and jagged, like maybe he didn’t use it a lot and when he did, it took a minute for the words to find their way out. It was the kind of voice that belonged to a real cowboy “This isn’t a spa or some kind of all-inclusive retreat where your every want and need is catered to, Ms. Connor. This is the wild, wild west, and if you don’t listen to the boys and pay attention to what they are telling you, then things can go bad faster than you can blink.” There was a warning there, but all I could think of were nights around the warm campfire and even warmer nights in the bedroom. He had a voice that made me think about rough sex and talented hands that I wouldn’t want to say no to. “Sutton and Lane are good at dealing with girls from the city who want to come out and play cowgirl, but I would advise against looking at them like they aren’t fit to carry your bags or like they somehow aren’t meeting your high standards.” Cy had a great voice, but goddamn, did his personality leave a lot to be desired.
So, smiley was Lane and grumpy was Sutton. Emrys had read the brochure aloud to me no less than twenty times when she was trying to convince me that we needed this vacation and that I really, really needed to get away. So I knew from the literature that the men who owned the ranch and ran the excursions were all brothers. From his protective stance, the attractive silver in his hair, and by the way he was trying to put me in my place for some perceived slight, it wasn’t hard to guess he was the big brother . . . emphasis on big. I was totally normal sized, hovering a tiny bit over five-six, but this guy towered over me and he has zero problem with his intimidation factor. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t loom or posture. He simply stood in front of me and his words, with their rasp and growl, made me shiver in both fear and awareness.
“I am aware this isn’t a spa or a retreat, Mr. . . .” I blushed and trailed off as I realized I’d been too busy evaluating him and his ability to keep me alive over the next week rather than paying attention to the introductions.
“Warner, but I’m Cy to most folks.”
I cleared my throat and begrudgingly stuck out a hand for him to shake. “Okay, Cy, I wasn’t looking at any of you in any way. I was just wondering about the qualifications you have to take a large group of inexperienced people into the wilderness. I think that’s a pretty fair concern to have. We seem to have simply gotten off on the wrong foot.” That happened a lot with my lack of filter and overt honesty. I had a hard time keeping my foot out of my mouth and here I was chewing on my shoe, again.