Yours to Keep by Claudia Burgoa
Chapter Six
Darren
I don’t waitfor the weekend. Once I’m ready to leave San Diego, I buy a plane ticket to Portland. Hayes makes a reservation at The Lodge. He assures me that one of his brothers will be picking me up at the airport.
During the two-hour flight, I wonder if whoever picks me up is as hot or hotter than Beacon. I always thought Hayes was handsome. Not that I liked him in any other way than a colleague and friend.
The four brothers I’ve met so far are just as attractive as he is. Okay, I didn’t meet Mills, but I am a fan of the Vancouver Orcas. The five share the same penetrating gaze that makes any man or woman around him shiver slightly.
Am I developing a crush on them? No, but it’d be a lie if I didn’t say I’m attracted. It’s like saying I don’t find Jason Momoa attractive. I do. Would I want to go out with him? No. I’d let him fuck me, though. After all, he’s Jason fucking Momoa. Who wouldn’t want to sleep with him?
When I walk out of the gate, my jaw drops, almost hitting the floor. There’s a tall man only a few steps away from me. He’s the entire package—broad shoulders, corded arms, broody attitude. And fuck, he shares those striking green eyes with his brothers. His eyes are slightly greener like the dark forest.
His face.
High cheekbones, chiseled jaw, and his sensual mouth.
That mouth.
My mind is already wondering how it’d be to run a hand through his thick, dark hair. My lips want to touch his and learn how he tastes. His expression, though, he’s so sure of himself. I bet he’s demanding in bed. He commands respect. My face heats as I imagine him fucking me and…
That’s not why you’re here, Darren Joseph Russell. I even middle-named myself to see if that stops the growing thickness pushing my zipper.
“Darren Russell?” he asks with a husky voice that sends heat down my spine.
“Dare,” I correct him. “My friends call me Dare.”
“I’m Vance Aldridge. This way, Dr. Russell.” The way he emphasizes the last two words, as if saying you-are-not-a-friend, is so fucking hot. It makes me want to say, “Challenge accepted. We’ll be friends.”
I don’t say a word, and instead, I follow him. I want to ask him how he could be at the gate picking me up. No one can go through security unless they have a ticket, no? I’ll ask later since he’s in a hurry. Someone is either chasing us, or he’s trying to tire me so I won’t talk during the drive.
As we’re about to reach baggage claim, he comes to a complete stop and asks, “Do you have more than that bag?”
I tilt my head to my carry-on and say, “No. This is all.”
When I was called to San Diego, I didn’t think I’d be staying more than a day. During my stay, I bought the luggage and clothes. It was easier than asking my sisters to send me some of my clothes. They’d ask questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Everyone at home thinks that I’m doing training in Maryland. They’ve yet to call me. I’m praying that neither one remembers I exist until I’m ready to decide on the job offer.
Vance gives me a sharp nod and speeds up. I look around, worried that someone might be chasing us. Hayes said he was in the Army. What if the man has a few enemies, or he’s a wanted man? I smirk because it’s kind of hot.
I should make a joke. This might be the perfect time to lighten up the situation. When I walk out of the gate, my jaw drops. Nah, I bet he wouldn’t respond to it. Not even with a nostril flare. What if I told him I don’t bite unless he asks nicely? I grin when I find a better one—“I don’t bite. I lick.”
That might fluster the fuck out of him. It can be a good icebreaker, but I don’t say a word, though.
Maybe if I move to Baker’s Creek, I could try to tear down his walls. He seems like a lonely guy, not because he likes it but because he doesn’t trust anyone. On second thought, I wouldn’t do anything. I’m moving to a small town. Isn’t that the kind of place where everyone knows your name? Everyone takes care of everyone. I’ll have plenty of friends.
I can’t wait to be a part of a community that supports each other. It’s not like I don’t have a support system in San Francisco. It’s that other than a few friends and my family, no one else cares. It’s different in small towns, right?
When we arrive at the parking lot, he takes my carry-on and places it in the trunk of a metallic blue Audi e-tron SUV. He opens the passenger door. “Let’s go. I hate to fly during dusk.”
I don’t understand his statement, but I don’t ask what he means by flying.
Is he going to drive so fast that it’ll feel like we’re flying?
I decide to wait until we’re on the highway before I take out my wireless headphones and resume listening to my audiobook. Stories I Only Tell My Friends narrated by Rob Lowe. Mom was a big Rob Lowe fan. I’m pretty sure if given a chance to leave Dad for him, she would do it in a heartbeat. The man is fucking hot, even at his age. She watched all his movies and the series.
When they canceled The West Wing, she organized a protest to get the show back. Mom is a force. Not even a television producer wants to mess with her. Fortunately, the guy always finds another acting gig. Years later, streaming television became a thing, and now, she watches Rob every single day.
The actor is interesting and attractive. Still, I wouldn’t want him to be my stepfather. I choose my father over any other man. He might not have taught me how to play catch, but we spent hours playing sports with video games. That counts, right?
Fifteen minutes later, we arrive at a private hangar. I give Vance a questioning look.
“The helicopter’s ready. Let’s go.”
My stomach lurches. “I thought we were driving,” I say, trying not to sound the way I’m feeling. A helicopter? Those things aren’t safe, are they? They are fragile, tiny, and what if the wind blows us away?
“No. Hurry up,” he orders, getting down and taking my luggage from the trunk. “Make sure to buckle up and put on a headset.”
The man is bossy, and if we were in bed, I wouldn’t mind. I like men who take charge. Now, I’m not in the mood.
“I plan on listening to—”
“No. You’re going to pay attention to my instructions,” he orders, nostrils flaring and skin darkening.
“Bossy.” I wink at him because if I’ve learned anything in my thirty-five years of life, it’s that men like him hate when you flirt. If he’s going to be an asshole, I plan on being one too. I can be the best passive-aggressive asshole in the world.
He glares at me. I smirk.
He opens the door and explains to me the basics. Seat belt, headphones so we can communicate, and he needs me to be silent. Before he shuts the door, he puts on a pair of sunglasses. Slack jaw, I stare at him.
Vance Aldridge could star in the Top Gun sequel. He’s taller and hotter than Tom Cruise. This guy could be Christian Bale’s doppelganger. He’s so fucking hot that I could eat him or let him eat me. Either way, we could have some fun. Not that it can happen. He’s related to my employer, and I’m not interested in straight men.
Less than thirty minutes later, we land close to what I assume is the ski resort. When Hayes mentioned The Lodge, I assumed that’s just what they called it. No. There’s a big sign that reads, The Lodge. I laugh. It’s almost as funny as calling an ice cream shop: The Ice Cream Shop.
When I climb down the helicopter, Vance is already holding my luggage.
“After you check in and freshen up, I’ll give you a tour of the place. There are three restaurants inside the hotel. The diner is a couple of miles from here. It’s open from seven in the morning until nine. The coffee shop opens at six, and so does the bakery. You already have Henry’s number. Call him if you have any questions.”
“I feel like you’re dumping me.”
He glances at me. “You’re assuming. I just told you that I’m going to give you a tour.”
“Is it me?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “What are you talking about?”
“You look like you want to bite me and not in a good way.”
He huffs and walks faster toward the lobby.
“It’s definitely me.”
Vance
I watch as Darren walks toward the elevator.
“So, he’s the new doctor?” Mills asks.
“Why are you working today?” I ask instead of answering the obvious question. He should know it drives me crazy when people ask questions just for the sake of filling the silence.
“Why are you in a fucked up mood?” he retorts.
I stare at my brother, unsure about my answer. It didn’t bother me to pick up the doctor. In fact, I’m glad he’s here because we need someone to take over the practice before Blaire goes into labor. In my opinion, she shouldn’t be working anymore, but no one listens to me.
When I saw Darren by the gate, I was almost speechless.
Hazel eyes, crooked smile, and a gorgeous face. He wore a pair of dark chinos, a green sweater that made those eyes pop, and his brown hair parted in the middle, casually.
Fuck, I need to stop hanging out with Sophia and Leyla. I don’t notice that shit. It’s not my thing. Every time we’re watching a movie, they make sure to highlight all the attributes of any hot dude that appears on the screen. They do it to fuck with their husbands. It bothers them to no end.
Darren Russell is attractive. In another life, I would’ve followed him to his room, undressed him, and taught him what I like to do with handsome men like him. I’d be delighted to fuck his mouth so he’d stop smirking as if he holds a secret. A secret I want him to tell me. I won’t ask. He’s too different from me. He smiles freely. He seems loud, happy.
I’m nothing like him. One look at those hazel eyes, his handsome face, and those lips, and I want more. I want to touch his lean, long body. The wrenching want is easy to tame as I remind myself what happened the last time I was with someone. It didn’t end up pretty. According to my therapist, I have to go to a fucking therapist twice a week because I’m fucked up. Well, those weren’t his words. Dr. Sanders said, “you need more help than you’re willing to admit.”
“If I offer to take this shift and the next, would you give him a tour of the place?” I ask with a pleading voice to Mills.
He laughs. “Why?”
“Because I’m not the right person to play host.”
Mills smirks. “I hate to agree with you. Why don’t we call someone who might be more capable than either one of us? It’s all about convincing him that this is the town for him. Who better than our Henry? He knows how to close the deal, doesn’t he?”
It doesn’t take long to convince Henry to take my place. However, I owe him a favor. For some reason, I feel as if I was selling my soul to a demon. He’ll probably abuse that one favor, but it’s better than not having a new doctor, isn’t it?
