Runaway (Wolfes of Manhattan 3)

I'd grown used to brown rice and quinoa. Used to celery, carrots, and spinach. Used to tilapia and cod braised in lemon juice. Not the tastiest fare in the world, but it kept my body thin enough for the runway.

Which meant, of course, I could see my ribs and my abdomen was concave. The camera truly did add ten pounds.

I walked out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. The king-sized bed took up nearly the entire room. Only a three-drawer dresser and mirror completed the ensemble. Off to the side was a small bathroom with a toilet, sink, and shower. No bathtub, but that was okay, because there was supposed to be a hot tub in the back. I planned to do some significant relaxing here, and that hot tub would be a big part of it.

Speaking of the hot tub, I left the bedroom and found the back door. There it was, tightly ensconced on the redwood deck. The low whir of the motor drifted over to me. You know? Right now might be a great time to test it out.

I was in the middle of nowhere, and though it was summer, a refreshing breeze blew around me. Perfect for the hot tub.

I removed the cover, which was more difficult than I’d anticipated. But I got it off and was mesmerized as I watched the steam rise from the water. I hadn't even brought my bags in from the car, and my bathing suit was buried somewhere. I didn't want to bother with it. Who would see me? I walked back into the kitchen, stripped down to nothing, and then walked barefoot across the redwood deck to the hot tub.

I stepped in, and when the warmth and hydration enveloped me, I closed my eyes.

Oh, yeah… This was heaven. I seriously might never leave this place.

I breathed in and out slowly, letting the steam moisturize my face and penetrate my lungs.

“Yeah,” I said aloud. “I could get used to this.”

“So could I.”2MatteoChloe Mansfield jerked out of the water, arms around her breasts, and then submerged herself quickly.

Too bad. Already I could see she had a gorgeous rack. Her frame was a little thin, but still, I’d have liked a better look.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, ma’am.”

Her eyes widened at my use of “ma’am.”

“I’m Matteo Rossi.”

“And…you’re here because…?”

Because I’d really like to get a better look at you.

“Because I own this place.”

Her eyebrows nearly flew off her forehead. “Well, I rented this place for the week, so you have no right to—”

“Hold on, hold on,” I said. “I just came to make sure you have everything you need. I brought you some groceries, in case you haven’t had a chance to stock up.”

“I was planning to go into town later.”

“Honey, it is later. This is a small town. Everything closes at five o’clock so folks can get home to dinner.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it once more. “Oh.”

“Where are you from, anyway?”

She wrinkled her forehead for a minute, which made her look adorably cute. “Pittsburgh.”

“A big city girl? You’re used to grocery stores that are open twenty-four hours, no doubt.”

“Well…yeah.”

I couldn’t help a laugh. “We do things here a little differently in Sumter Falls, Montana. Everything opens at eight and everything promptly closes at five, whether it’s the grocery, liquor store, or the apothecary.”

“Apothecary?”

“Pharmacy, druggist. Whatever.”

“I see.”

“Except the movie theater, but it’s only open on weekends. Last show’s over by eleven.”

“Oh,” she said again. Then she looked around tentatively. “Could you get me…a…”

“Towel?”

“Yeah, that would be perfection.”

“Seems a shame to cover you up, speaking of perfection,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “but sure. Hold on.”

I walked back into the kitchen and then to the bathroom, where I grabbed one of the fluffy white towels. I brought it back to Chloe.

“Thanks,” she murmured. “Now, do you mind?”

Took a lot of energy for me to turn around and look away. I really wanted to get a good look of that dark-haired gorgeousness. Her face was so beautiful it could’ve been carved by gods.

Seriously. And I didn’t say that lightly. Because I didn’t talk like that. Ever.

She cleared her throat. “Okay, I’m out now.”

I turned around. She was tall. Really fucking tall. Not as tall as I was, of course, but I was six-five. Taller than all the women around these parts, though. She was tall and lean, and I swear to God her legs went on forever. She looked like an angel wrapped in a white towel.

“I hate to bother you,” she said, “but my bags…”

“They’re in the bedroom. I already brought them in.”

“Wow, really? I didn’t realize I had left the car unlocked.”

“You didn’t. I found the keys on the kitchen table and took the liberty of—”

“Of breaking into my car?”