Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
He gave me another calm nod.
“Wow. It’s amazing how many friends Chase and Adam have. Guys like me, and then guys like you, you know?”
He cocked his head a little, confused. “What do you mean?”
What I mean is you look like a million bucks, and I look like a polar bear after Christmas dinner, I thought.
“Nothing,” I finally said. “I’m Chase’s brother. And I’d guess you’re from here?”
“Not from here,” he said, cool as a cucumber. “But I do live here. One of my houses is here, at least. Chase and I both worked for the Fixer Brothers. We also all went skiing together here this past winter. Chase fell in love with it.”
“Right,” I said. “I remember he mentioned a ski trip last winter.”
Tall Guy was wearing some sort of scent that smelled so enticing that it made me want to sniff closer and closer toward him to figure out exactly where on his body he’d put it. It wasn’t anything like any cologne I’d ever smelled before—in fact, I was pretty sure every cologne I’d ever smelled before was a complete and utter insult to whatever this man had adorned his body with.
He smelled as expensive as he looked, of course. No puffy, cheap coat in sight.
And totally not my type, I thought. Guys like him always seemed a little… cold, maybe because they were so far out of my league. So wealthy. No wonder he looked like he belonged here among the snow.
“I’m Landry, by the way,” he finally said as the elevator almost reached the first floor, reaching out to shake my hand. “Landry Lucock. Or Lucky.”
I suppressed a cough.
Lucock?
I was at Snowcock Resort standing next to Landry Lucock?
I really had entered a bizarro world. Not that I was going to complain about it.
“Jamie Blau,” I said. “Sorry. Sweaty hands.”
“Feels fine to me,” Landry said, his hand much larger and stronger than mine, even in a quick shake.
“Your nickname’s Lucky?” I asked him.
“It’s what my friends call me,” he said with a nod. “You can, too, if you want.”
There was a glimmer of something behind his eyes as he watched me, as if he’d been trying to figure me out like a puzzle. “Chase said his brother was sweet, but he didn’t mention you were adorable,” he said.
A flood of warmth passed through my body.
The elevator dinged as we reached the lobby. Tall Magic Cologne Guy stepped out, glancing back at me as he walked off.
“I’ve always liked marshmallows,” he told me as he looked me up and down before giving me a warm, genuine smile before he walked off. His shoes clicked gently on the polished floor, his chestnut waves bouncing as he set off toward the lounge.
Okay. So maybe this particular rich guy didn’t look cold, or mean, or anything but drop-dead-perfect, at least when he was doing that. But he was still out of my league. As he walked away, I felt dazed, like I’d just been hit with a charisma tornado that was gone as soon as it started.
“Excuse me, sir.” A bellhop glared at me, barrelling by and pushing a particularly oversized load of suitcases on a metal cart.
I moved out of the way, looking over toward the entrance to the bar. But Tall Guy—Landry—had disappeared into the low-lit, exclusive area.
I headed over past the hotel lobby and front desk. I saw a sign that said Pub, pointing down a set of stairs that I followed down. It led to another, much cheaper bar located in the front. It seemed like most of the hotel and wedding guests were over at the lounge bar, where Tall Guy had disappeared into, but a week-long pass to the lounge bar also apparently cost five hundred dollars, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to be stepping foot in there.
The simple pub-style bar near the front was smaller, dark, and calm, though, and a few off-duty hotel service workers were sitting at one end of the oak bar top, slowly sipping beers.
“What will you have tonight, sir?” the bartender asked me.
I pulled out a ten-dollar bill and put it on the bar top. “What can this get me?”
“Two of the Snowbank Lagers or one of the Hopfenperles,” he said.
“I’ll go with two of the lagers, then,” I said, since I had no idea what the second thing was. “Keep the change.”
As I sipped my beer, I relaxed a little for the first time all day. It had been a chaotic, long day of travel—first a flight from California to Denver, then a shuttle bus across town, then a cab up to the ski resort.
When I’d received the fancy, thick envelope from Chase inviting me to his wedding, my first thought was louder than all the others: Who the hell has a wedding in the wintertime?