King's Castle
“Heated barns are nice but really expensive. I’ve heard if you use radiant floor heating it’s better–” Slick stops petting Lucy and shoots me an annoyed look. “There’s no we here so if you build a barn, it’s because you want to and no other reason.”
She’s really set on keeping her distance. I’m starting to wonder if it’s going to take more than a day to get her into my bed. My dick howls its metaphorical head off in dismay.
“Heated barn with a radiant floor it is. I’ll fly an architect up here tomorrow. Jake and Cyn can go fetch him.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“I did.” I give Blue one last firm pat before standing. “But your words don’t track with my plans so I’m ignoring them.” I hold out a hand. “Want to take a tour of the cabins? I’ve got two empties waiting for their visitors if you want to see.” I know she’s curious. Every time I’ve mentioned the cabins, a questioning light pops into her eyes.
“If you’re ignoring my words, I’m ignoring yours.” She disregards my hand and rises on her own, dusting her hands against her jacket. “You may show me a cabin.” She jerks her chin like she’s the Queen of England. I love it.
“Come on then, Slick.” I head in the direction of cabin number five. The walk is cleared but there’s quite a bit of snow to cover before we hit pavement. I’d have taken her hand in mine, but she might’ve slapped me and in the cold, that sort of blow can sting like a mothereffer. As we walk side by side, I keep an eye out for Slick, who is struggling a bit with the long coat. After watching her wobble a third time, I sweep her into my arms.
“I can walk,” she declares, batting her hands against the steel cage of my arms.
“Yeah, I know. You can talk, shower, and eat by yourself, too, but someday I’m going to kiss you until you’re breathless, eat you out while the water rains down on your head, and feed you from my own hand so you might as well get used to me doing things for you now. Besides, I think Blue and Lucy were getting worried they were going to have to drag you out by your collar if you fell down.” The two dogs hop excitedly through the snow beside us.
The small pats turn to punches from her newly formed fists. “You are delusional!” she shouts. “Even if I wasn’t here for my sister, I wouldn’t climb into bed with a man who has clearly lost it.”
I set her down on the front stoop. “If you say so.” I open the door to cabin five and step aside. Cabin five is minimalist with heated cement floors, black custom cabinetry and a bank of windows that make you feel like you’re living outside. A cast iron stove hangs from the ceiling in the middle of the room to provide additional heat.
“This isn’t going to be my sister’s place. She’d hate it here,” Slick announces, but I notice that she seems interested. She trails her hands over the marble counter before checking out the fireplace. “You never told me what you do for a living or what this place is.”
“I don’t do anything but live here at the retreat.” At least, that’s what Cyn says. I do the books, invest my money, help build the cabins, fix any maintenance issues, and make sure the boogie man stays away from the gate.
She swings away from the fireplace and pins a narrow-eyed gaze on me. “How do you afford this? Is it drugs?”
“Not drugs. My old man had a lot of money and when he died, it came to me.” The old man meant to change his will but was too busy beating on my mom and sticking his dick into every passing vagina that he never got around to it. Medical reports say he died of a heart attack but I wouldn’t be surprised if one of his bedmates got tired of him and slipped something into his drink. “And this place”—I hold out my arms—“is for women and girls who need a place to stay while their shit gets sorted. My mom needed one of these but didn’t have it so she passed away from one fist to the gut too many.” The doc who treated her told me she didn’t have to die, that the injuries weren’t internal but her heart gave out anyway. I understood. I didn’t want to stay living around my old man either.
“Are you saying that my sister’s stalker…” She trails off, not wanting to finish the sentence, not wanting to be in a situation where someone she cares about was being abused and she didn’t know.