Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I’d stopped by the bar after another frustrating day at the mill where a shipment hadn’t arrived, no one had reported damage to a new piece of machinery that had apparently been out of commission for a week, and my new secretary had dropped three important calls in succession. I was fucking exhausted. I had a lot to relearn about the business, and it wasn’t leaving me much time to wrangle a hockey player into submission.
Poor choice of words, but you know what I mean.
Now he was here…swaying like a tree in hurricane winds. I couldn’t decide if this was an amazing stroke of good luck or a sure sign that I should never have accepted my dad’s offer.
“Here. Have some water.”
I picked up one of the complimentary bottles on the dresser across from the king-sized bed, unscrewed the cap, and pushed it into Denny’s hands. He nodded his thanks, downing half the contents in record time.
“Much better,” Denny said.
“Good. My number is on the card I gave you. If I could get your number too, that would be—”
“I think we stayed in this same room on prom night. It was supposed to be MK and me, but it ended up being a huge group. I slept on that sofa.”
Okay…
“That must have been uncomfortable.” I took my hat off and set it on the desk, perching on the edge with my arms crossed to settle in for a rambling chat with a drunk. Whatever. I just needed his phone number.
“Probably, but I can sleep anywhere.” Denny cast his gaze around the standard hotel room as if it were incredibly interesting.
It was nice but basic—mahogany furniture, white duvet, and plain walls decorated with tasteful photographs of the surrounding forest. The real draw was the view of the virtual sea of evergreens from the balcony. It was pitch-dark now, and he was lost in thought anyway, perhaps reliving a long-ago wild party with his peers.
Fine by me. It gave me a chance to size him up.
Denny Mellon was maybe an inch taller than me with a wiry toned frame, wavy raven hair, and tawny hazel eyes. Even drunk, he emanated a startling intensity, as if he were constantly measuring danger. Like a spy or an assassin. I’d seen him play and knew he was as savage, quick, and cunning on the ice as the good folks of Elmwood had claimed at the bar.
At the moment, he just seemed kind of sweet and a little out of his depth. Oh…and off his rocker. Had he really thought I’d tracked him down in the parking lot to proposition him for sex?
That was just… Wow. Nope. Couldn’t touch that one.
However, this might be the only opportunity I’d get to convince him to work with me.
“I’m a hockey fan, by the way. It’s an honor to meet Colorado’s hotshot rookie.”
Denny grimaced. “Please don’t call me that. It’s embarrassing.”
“But accurate. I’ve been to a couple of games this season. You’re a rising star.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Don’t be so modest. According to the bartender, you’re the next Great One.” I chuckled at his eye roll, slyly adding, “I hear there’s a gold mine of talent in this little town. I’d love to talk to you about it some more. Are you free tomorrow?”
He sipped his water and squinted. “You want to talk about…Elmwood?”
“Something like that,” I hedged. “Give me your num—”
“Now is good. Trust me, I won’t want to do this again. By this, I mean…talk. And I have questions too.”
“Oh. Okay.” I opened my arms. “You go first.”
“Why’d you buy the mill?” he asked before continuing in a manic rush. “Are you a logger or a cowboy? Why is there a horse on your business card? Are you going for a western vibe, or is that a sales technique? If so…why? And what do you want with me? If it’s a proposition, please proposition away and make it a good one. I’ve never been propositioned, and I’m all for it. Just keep the innuendo down. I’m new to the bi thing, and I don’t know all the lingo. If you’re straight, ignore me. I drank tequila. Remember that. Very tipsy.”
Whoa.
I didn’t know where the hell to begin. Usually, I’d take it from the top, but I was stuck on “the bi thing.”
Denny Mellon was bi?
And coming on to me. Not well, but it was there.
Christ, was that why he’d followed me to my room?
I pinched the bridge of my nose and met Denny’s gaze, noting the hint of vulnerability the proud tilt of his chin didn’t quite mask.
“Uh…that’s a lot to unpack there,” I stalled. “Let’s start with the mill. I didn’t buy it from the Larsons, my father did. They say it was a great purchase and beneficial to both parties. This area is growing and frankly, the Larsons weren’t equipped to handle a large-scale ecologically sustainable production. That’s what the RM Mill does best. It’s on our website, so it must be true.”