Second Chance Rescue, page 12
Macy
The inside of the chalet—and I’m using that word very loosely—feels like an upscale version of a log cabin with rustic charm. Forty-foot-high exposed beam ceilings and the floor-to-ceiling windows make it feel so large and foreboding. Rich, deep chocolate leather furniture, animal fur rugs, oil paintings of wildlife, old hanging ski equipment, and the stonework fireplace play into the elaborate feel. The room is littered with photos. A small boy on a sailing boat. A teenager taking his snowboard down a slope covered in snow. A few other photos of an older couple with an adult Trevor. These must be his family photos, I think to myself. As I step in closer, I notice the older man in the photos has the same strong jawline that Trevor does, with the same kind eyes. His hair is shorter than Trevor’s and has a smattering of gray, but they could almost be twins. I start to study the woman in the photo when a throat clearing grabs our attention.
In an arched doorway down the hall, I see the same man I was just studying in the photos, only now he looks older. He’s donned a three-piece suit in the middle of a Saturday as if we’ve just caught him leaving for work, but he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. He is poised and regal. I feel the need to curtsy or bow, but refrain. He could be Trevor’s twin, minus the laugh lines that caress his eyes.
“Hello, Father,” Trevor says. Their gaze isn’t unfriendly, but it isn’t exactly warm and welcoming either. He’s studying us, trying to size up the likes of the fiancée his son has brought for him to approve. His gaze covers my body, but his facial expression remains unchanged.
The elder Donovan steps forward to shake my hand. “And you must be Macy, the infamous fiancée we’re just now hearing about…,” he says, looking hard at Trevor who responds in same. My heart sinks. I knew he would figure it out. My skin curls when his icy, dry hand greets mine. The only thing I can think to compare it to is the white walkers on Game of Thrones … It unnerves me. His gaze falls to my left hand and a faint smirk crosses his lips before turning to Trevor.
Physically, I’m shaky. My knees are jelly, waiting to collapse from beneath me. Mentally though, my big girl panties are on and I’m ready to get this party started. If I can handle a hundred-pound Doberman Pinscher snarling at me, every fiber in his body desiring to eat me alive, then Mr. Donovan will be putty in my hands.
“Mr. Donovan, it’s such a pleasure to finally meet the father of the man I love,” I say with sprinkles because that’s how sweet I sound. It’s almost sickening. Doom is what I feel though, impending doom. Pushing that feeling down, I fight the urge to run away. Instead, I lean in and give the man a giant hug. I think a rock would’ve been nicer to hug. Judging by the look on Trevor’s face, I get the impression no one hugs his father. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a face as beet red as Mr. Donovan’s either.
He steps back awkwardly and shakes his head. Yes, I’ve knocked the cold one off his game! “I’m sorry, Macy. You’ll have to excuse an old man. You’re the first person that’s hugged me in twenty-five years.” I’m sure my mouth drops open. Who does that? And did he say twenty… five… years…
I raise my shoulder in a whatcha-gonna-do pose. “Sorry to be so forward. Hugging people is a born-and-bred trait in the Tucker household. I always say there’s nothing a good hug can’t fix, and for what it can’t, I suggest a heavy dose of alcohol.”
He chuckles lowly. “Call me Max, Macy.”
“Alright, Max.”
He nods his head and turns back to Trevor. “I’ll let you go. I’m sure you need to get settled in and a chance to freshen up. Dinner is at seven. Your mother has something nice picked out for the cook to prepare.” A brief smile and then he’s gone.
Trevor looks over at me and shakes his head.
“What?” I say.
“I can’t believe you hugged my father.”
“What? We Tucker’s are huggers. Works great in scare tactics for people who aren’t suspecting it.”
“I’m slowly learning to think so.” He reaches down to grab my hand and leads me toward the bedrooms. We don’t have a lot of time for a tour, but Trevor tells me all about the chalet—seven bedrooms, four bathrooms, a great room, a living room, and a huge kitchen dining/entertainment area. The chalet is equipped with the finest technology too—Alexa in every room, a fully decked-out intercom camera system, and elevators galore. To say I’m impressed is the understatement of the century.
Trevor’s room is astronomically large. It’s a vastly different decorating scheme than his house.
More oil paintings line the walls, the exposed ceiling beams continue, and old ski equipment is hung everywhere my eyes land. The room is finished in gorgeous tones of cream, brown, and gray—very manly. The things I love most are the stone, wood-burning fireplace and floor-to-ceiling windows displaying the snow-covered, glistening white slopes. Their chalet is a ski-in/ski-out home right on the hill. A fire crackles in the stone hearth and as my eyes follow the lay of the room, I notice a glorious Jacuzzi tub in the en suite bathroom. Note to self: check that out later.
He makes his way over to the enormous, king-sized sleigh bed under the window and flops down on the silky, white duvet cover. As I continue scanning the room, I quickly note that there is only one bed in the room. It’s then I remember Trevor and I never discussed sleeping arrangements.
My throat gets clogged overthinking things. I’m wondering if I could convince him to sleep somewhere else or maybe there’s a guest room. I remind myself that’s not possible though, because it would look weird that we wouldn’t sleep in the same room. I’d never slept with a man before, clothed or otherwise and today was not that day. I wonder how it would feel to have his hot body curling me into a little spoon, big spoon situation.
Trevor groans from the spot on the bed. “Your brain is pounding out a staccato, what’s going on over there? Sharing is caring, Mace.”
“How will…” I gesture with my hand. “Is this… where do…” I have instant cotton-mouth and words will not form. He looks up and his eyes meet mine. His stare is intense, fixed on me.
I finally manage to choke out the rest of my thoughts in a high-pitched squeak. “Are you going to sleep on the couch or something?”
He rolls onto his back and props his hands under his head. His shirt rides up just slightly, exposing the toned ridges of his abs and a landing strip of dark, downy hair leading to the waistband of his jeans. I hope he doesn’t notice the audible gulp coming from my lips or the fact that my heart is racing. God, is it hot in here or just me?
“Here, of course,” he says with lidded eyes. Those must be what people call sex eyes. Oh, dear lord, I’m in for it.
My whole body shudders; my knees quiver below me. Does he really expect me to sleep in the same bed as him? Surely not. I grip onto my last bit of courage and speak. “With… you?” I say nervously, my eyes darting between his body and the bed.
His previous sex eyes turn giddy and laughter erupts from deep within his body. He’s totally been screwing with me.
He points to the sofa behind me. “I was planning on sleeping over there,” he says, muted amusement all over his face.
“Jerk,” I mumble, feeling like a dunce, and he laughs as I throw my bags down and turn to check out the bathroom. Damn, that’s one hell of a claw-foot tub. I can feel his eyes searing the back of me. Burning into the very core of me.
“So,” I say, trying to redirect. “Tell me about your mother.”
“What do you want to know? You’ll meet her at dinner tonight.”
Not good enough, buddy, I say to myself. “I gathered as much. Give me something to prepare.”
He sighs, knowing by now it’s really no use to deny me the truth. “My mom is a reformed helicopter mother. She was very involved in my life growing up. Skiing, sports, you name it, she was there cheering me on.” He pauses as if he’s waiting for me to interrupt. When I don’t, he continues. “After I lost Juliette, I shut down. I blocked everyone out, especially my mom. She talked me into seeing a therapist, but the guy had no clue what the fuck was going on in my head. So, I stopped going. I said things I’m not proud of. I was hurt and so angry. She tried to help but I just couldn’t see past the red consuming me. Eventually, she stopped trying. She stopped calling. She stopped everything.”
I feel complete sadness for him. He had a strong love for his mom. The way he spoke about her was almost in reverence. I want to prod a little more, but I doubt he’ll answer any more of my questions. He closes his eyes, signaling there will be no more discussion.
I stood in silence as my gaze washed over him laying across the king-sized bed. He looked like a God. Tanned and brilliant. I wasn’t sure what to do or say, so I remained quiet.
“Say something, Mace. It’s too quiet in this room right now.”
“Your mom sounds nice.”
“Nice, huh?” He said as he peered up at me with a raised eyebrow.
“I guess so.” I shrugged my shoulders.
He softly chuckled and the tee shirt he’d been wearing lifting slightly, exposing tanned abs and a dusting of soft hair. The urge to reach across and run my fingers through it grew exponentially but I resisted.
He reached over and pulled me onto the bed with him. “Thank you for doing all of this for me. Meeting my parents. Agreeing to something that scares the shit out of you. You’ll never know how much it all means to me.” And with that he leans over to give me just the slightest kiss. It quickly turns into more than just a peck and I devour his lips pressed against my own. Giving him everything I can in the moment.
A noise rises in my throat. A retort or a plea, I’m not sure. Trevor raises his hand and trails his fingers along the inside of my left arm. A noiseless gasp escapes my lips. His touch burns my skin, but I relish the sear. I want more, being in this moment with him. Completely enraptured. A long ding comes from my purse and I jump off the bed quickly, as if there’s a fire under my ass. The perfect moment now gone. Color penetrates my cheeks. I look back at Trevor who’s now laughing at me.
“You okay over there?” he asks with a bright smirk, knowing the exact affect he has on me.
“I… I’m just fine. Thank you very much,” I huff as I walk to my purse to see which miscreant has interrupted the simplicity of just being with Trevor. Mia. Of course. I hold my thumb over the home screen, and it unlocks to the message. I look back at Trevor but say nothing as I bolt, slamming the bathroom door shut, and collapse against it. Embarrassment washes over me as I sit and wonder just how far things would have gone had Mia not cockblocked me.
Mia… right. I hold my phone up and read the texts.
Mia: Ooo… tell me everything. What’s it like? Have you met the parents? Are they creepy?
Me: It’s gorgeous here. It has high-class rustic charm. If there even is such a thing… I met his dad. Seems nice, also feels like a lot of tension between them. Meeting his mom at dinner.
Mia: I bet his dad is a total hottie. I mean if Trevor looks that good then damn…
Me: You do realize that he’s old enough to be your father, right?
Mia: Older guys are hot, and they tend to know how to work a lady’s body just right. If you know what I mean… oops, you don’t. #sorrynotsorry
Me: I’m going to totally pretend you did not just insult me like the bitch that you are… anyways he’s married, you loser.
Mia: I know. A girl can dream though…
Me: What’s new with Brooks?
Mia: Ugh. Men.
Me: That good, huh?
Mia: I can’t figure him out.
I shake my head and laugh. Some days I question the validity of our friendship and why it didn’t end years ago.
Me: Alright, I gotta go get ready. Talk later?
Mia: I’m gonna hunt a bitch down if not. I need details.
Me: Ok, weirdo.
Mia:
I take a few deep breaths and compose myself. It’s unnerving how every touch, every kiss, every look makes me feel electric. He’s quickly become a drug to my addiction and I want to consume the hell out of him. I give myself a mini pep talk and then open the bathroom door. Trevor smiles up at me when I walk out and I’m instantly reminded of the calm he creates within me.
“So, what do I need to wear for dinner tonight?”
“Well, I was actually going to take you to Lula’s up the road and buy you a dress for dinner.”
“Trev, we talked about this when you first brought up the agreement. You can’t buy me. I can get my own dress for tonight.”
“Let me, Mace. I want to buy something nice for you. You came up here with me, after all.” I nod and we trail down the hallway to the front door.
Trevor pulls the car up to the front of the chalet and jumps out to open my door for me.
As I slide into the leather seat, I notice how luxurious the inside of the car is.
Perfectly stitched seats and wood-trimmed panels. A state-of-the-art GPS system. The smell of new car permeates the air. The center console is filled with buttons and knobs. I keep my hands to myself, afraid that I’ll break the first thing I touch.
“This car is really fancy. Is it new and what is it?”
“No, they’ve had this one for a couple years. It’s an Audi A8 and it just sits in the garage most of the year and doesn’t get driven. I figured why not right? That is, of course, unless you’re missing a driver,” he says with a chuckle.
“I’m good…”
“Good, let’s head over then.”
The car ride is quiet. I look over at Trevor, studying his features. A strong jawline. Kind eyes. I love that his hair is longer and falls across his forehead. My heart swells at Trevor doing something so sweet. That he would want me to feel comfortable in his world gives me a warm feeling. I wonder if he feels something for me. Everything that’s happened between us lately would point to yes. The kissing. The talks. Maybe he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, because doing that would mean he was moving on? I can understand it. As I look back toward the window, my phone buzzes.
Dad: It was nice meeting Trevor.
Me: Thanks dad. He really appreciated you meeting him. He asked me to marry him.
Dad: Oh, that’s good news Macy girl. Have you talked about a date yet?
Me: Soon, daddy. I’ll let you know when we decide. What are you doing today?
Dad: Cheryl brought me a new crossword puzzle book from the store. These ones are more difficult to solve.
Me: That’s good. Hey, mind if I text you back later? We just got to the store and then we’re heading back to the house to have dinner with Trevor’s parents.
Dad: Ok, have fun.
Trevor pulls into the lot and parks. He opens the door to the dress shop and I gasp. There is recessed lighting over every rack and a metal chandelier over the register near the back. Dresses line the walls and surround the tables in the middle of the floor that are bursting with accessories—belts, scarves, and jewelry. Leather couches and chairs are strategically placed around the store. I’m assuming those are for the men who come to wait while their wives shop.
I don’t know where to start.
Trevor comes up behind me and whispers, only loud enough that I can hear. “What kind of dresses do you like to wear, Mace?”
“I… I don’t know. I’ve never worn anything this fancy.” I run my hands down the silk and tulle fabric of the dresses on the rack in front of me. “Do they have, like, a sales rack? These are so expensive.”
Trevor places his hand on the small of my back. “Hey, look at me.”
I turn around, looking up at him. “What?”
“Buy whatever makes you feel comfortable. I don’t care how much it costs.”
I nod. “Okay…”
I pick out a couple dresses from the racks on the wall and walk to the dressing room. I’m pulling on the first dress when a soft knock sounds on the door.
I open it just far enough to stick my head out and am met with Trevor’s smile. “Yes?”
“I think you should try this one too.”
“Okay. You could’ve waited until I was dressed, you know.”
A smirk crosses his face. “I know.”
My eyes roll. “Jerk. Well, where is it?” I scan his hands for the dress and smile when I find it. A gorgeous navy-blue dress sits splayed across his arm. Capped sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Sexy, but modest, which I appreciate. It’s a silk dress and I won’t dare look at the price tag.
“I’ll be back.” I grab the dress and close the door to finish doing up the first dress.
I hate it and the second dress isn’t much better. I pull the one Trevor picked out off the hanger and start to slip it on. The silk cradles my curves as it slides down my body. I don’t think my skin has ever experienced something so exquisite. In fact, I know it hasn’t. The tapered fit of the dress holds my curves on display and the color flatters my complexion. I look sexy as hell. He clearly knows what he’s doing in the dressing category. I quickly undress and put my other outfit back on.
I open the door to the dressing room and find Trevor waiting for me. “Wait, I don’t get to see the one I picked?”
“You’ll see it tonight.”
“I look forward to it.”
I pick out some nude heels to go with my dress and we head to the register to pay. The car ride home is filled with nerves. I can’t stop thinking about his parents. What if they really know it’s all fake? What if they out him? Will he be done with all of this and just walk away? He’s made me believe he truly needs this money for the rescue so I don’t think he’ll just walk away now.
As if he can read my thoughts, he speaks. “Stop worrying, Mace. Everything is going to work out just fine.” I look over and nod. I’m not sure I believe him. We pull up to the chalet and make our way back to his room.
“Thank you for buying me this dress, Trev.”
“My pleasure. Do you really like it?”
I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, holding on tightly, before he has time to catch up. “Do I like it? It’s gorgeous. I wouldn’t have bought it if I didn’t.”
