Remy

1. Wednesday-2

“Uh, okay, I will.”

She smiled and nodded once, pleased with herself and his answer, and then swam towards the shallow end. He stayed there watching her. She climbed out up the ladder, water dripping off an athletic body, the bottoms of her blue two-piece clinging suggestively to her ass.

He looked away, gave his head a shake, and went back to his laps.

When he started to feel the muscle drag in his shoulders and legs, he stopped. He’d done fifty-seven round trips; each way was roughly twenty strokes. He’d counted diligently to keep his mind from wandering back to Tara’s backside.

Is she even still here? He swam to the nearest ladder and pulled himself out of the water. He glanced around and spotted the hot tub so he wandered in that direction, leaving a trail of wet footprints and water drops as he went. He spotted the top of her head, low to the water. She was slouched down with as much of her body below the surface as possible and her eyes closed. The jets were on high, turning the surface white with bubbles and filling this corner of the pool area with a steady whirring noise.

Remy padded up the steps and slid into the water opposite her. She smiled.

“Sneaking up on me?”

“Evidently not. This is hot.”

“Mmm. It’s wonderfully relaxing.” She hadn’t opened her eyes yet. “I could nap here, but then I’d probably drown. It’s so much nicer than the rain outside, and the rain back home.”

“It was warm when I left home,” he said, “But not this warm, thank God. Though it’ll probably get there in a few months.”

She opened her eyes and sat up a little. Her skin had been pale before but now her cheeks were rosy, almost flushed, from the heat. He noticed that her eyes were lighter than he first thought. When he realized he was staring, he quickly glanced away. He hadn’t come to the conference looking for love, or even a fling – he didn’t need the complication.

“So – uh – you mentioned coffee?”

“I did. I’m on the west side of the lobby, 4th floor.”

“East side, 5th floor,” he replied.

“Well then how about I meet you back at the café as soon as you’re dried off and dressed. Unless you want to do coffee in your swim trunks?”

I’d like a better look at you in your bathing suit, he thought. He was glad the water was hot because he was sure he was blushing. The bubbles were an added bonus since his swim trunks were too loose to hide his body’s reaction to the mental image of her wet bikini top clinging to her breasts. He cleared his throat. “No, getting changed is a good idea. I’ll go grab my towel and stuff.” He turned away. She followed him but he was careful to keep his eyes forward. When he did have to turn to face her, he found she was wrapped in a fluffy robe and was busy toweling her hair dry.

“I’ll see you at the café in a few,” he said.

“Mm-hm.”

He hurried out.

Tara watched him go. He’d rushed and barely toweled off so his shirt was clinging to his back almost as much as his wet trunks were clinging to his legs and ass. He was tall, broad shouldered, and bronze-skinned. She’d thought Latino at first but his features were wrong, and his accent was – interesting.

Not to mention the powerful shoulders and chest that had been sticking out above the surface of the hot tub. I’d like to run my hands over that chest, she thought, watching him walk away. And that ass. There’s a man who works out, or maybe … maybe he’s here for the conference. Dad always did want me to marry a werebear. I’d have been more open to the idea if we had werebears like him back home.

When he disappeared out the door, she gathered her things and followed, humming to herself. She’d been upset about being dragged to this conference. She wasn’t a Clan chief and she wasn’t even a secretary, as her Chief had claimed to the Council. But he always gets what he wants in the end and he wanted me here, so here I am. Maybe this time I can get a little of what I want, too.

The café was small but cozy with enough space between the dozen or so tables to keep it from feeling crowded. The décor was classy but rustic, a combination of raw wood and beautiful oil paintings of forests and mountains and wild animals. No tacky hunting trophies or cheesy lumber jack jokes to be seen.

Remy settled at a table for two and politely told the waiter he was waiting for someone. If you order before she arrives maybe you can pay upfront and then she can’t try to pay for your drink. The reasoning was sound and he really didn’t like people paying for him. He was about to wave the waiter back over when Tara walked in.

She hadn’t taken the time to dry her hair, that was the first thing he noticed. It was tussled like she’d rubbed it over a few times with the towel and left it. The rosy had left her cheeks so her hair sat dark and damp against her smooth, pale cheeks and neck. She was wearing one of those t-shirt dresses in a doeskin brown over black tights and had a little bag over one shoulder.

She was looking around the café and quickly spotted him, her face lighting up in a smile. “You didn’t order without me, did you?” she said as she bustled over and settled into the chair opposite him.

“No,” he said, choosing to omit the part about thinking that very thing.

“Good. So, what’ll you have?”

“I came from east of here so something with caffeine to get me through the day would be good.”

“Me too.” The waiter came over. “I’ll have a large vanilla frappe with a cinnamon bun please.”

“Sure thing, and you sir?”

“Oh, just a regular coffee.”

“Come on,” Tara said. “You don’t have to keep it simple just because I’m paying. I really don’t mind.” Her smile was radiant.

“Okay, fine, a large latte.”

“Anything to eat with that?”

“Uh – “

“Come on, I don’t want to be the only one eating.”

“The offer was for coffee,” he said. “You really don’t need to buy me food.”

“Order something,” she said, her eyes burning into him. She refused to look away. Her eyes were beautiful, and distracting.

“Okay, uh, I guess I’ll have a cinnamon bun, too.”

The waiter was trying to keep a straight face as he noted the extra pastry on the order pad. “Okay, I’ll have that out to you right away.”

“Sorry,” she said, grinning as the waiter walked away. “I don’t mean to be pushy.”

“No, it’s okay, you remind me of some friends back home. I seem to be surrounded by strong-willed women.”

Tara’s hopes drooped and she tried to keep her smile bright. “You got a pushy mother?”

“Not really, not any more than mothers should be. She’s sweet. And she lives in Florida in a retirement condo place. I hardly see her, except video chat.”

“Oh, well I’m sure your wife doesn’t think she’s being pushy.”

He laughed. “I’m not married,” he said. “Not even close.”

“So, no one waiting for you back home?”

“Just friends.”

“I suppose that means you’re here for the conference but you’re not publicly out so you don’t want to say ‘clan’ in front of a stranger?”

“Strong-willed and sharp too,” he said with a grin. “You look a little young to be a Chief.”

“No comment on my gender?”

“In general, I have a lot to say about your gender. But I know a few female Clan Chiefs so I wouldn’t rule anything out.”

“Huh.”

They both stopped talking for a moment as the waiter returned with their order.

“Just put that on room 417W,” she said with a smile. “All of it.”

“No problem, just let me know if you need anything else.”

“So, if you’re not a Chief, why are you here?” he said, picking up his cinnamon bun.

“I accompanied my Chief.”

Remy hid his disappointment behind the snack. While he hadn’t planned on anything romantic happening, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her and he’d assumed the offer for a coffee and the fishing for information on his marital status was a sign she was single but apparently, that was not the case. “I hope you won’t be bored during the conference.”

“No, I’ll be busy taking notes and such. Being a secretary is a tough job.”

“I’m sure being married to a pushy dominant male is no picnic either.”

She laughed. heartily “No, I’m definitely not married to my Chief.”

“Oh – well – uh … now I feel a little embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Didn’t I make the same assumption about you? Or just about?”

“That’s true.” It didn’t alleviate the embarrassment.

“So, since we’ve established we’re both single, want to do something this evening?”

“What kind of something?”

“Oh, I was thinking wild kinky sex.”

He nearly spit his drink across the table.

She laughed again, even louder this time. “I’m sorry. You should see the look on your face.” Her laughter rolled on and on.

“Okay, okay.” He dabbed at the table with his napkin.

She gave him a sexy little pout. “Don’t you want me?”

He felt his cheeks heating up and she laughed again.

“I’ll stop. I’m sorry. I was actually thinking dinner. I’ll be stuck eating hotel food all week, practically, so why don’t we head into town and try something local?”

“Only on the condition that you don’t try to pay for me.”

“Hey, an accidental almost drowning will only get you so many freebies. You want dinner, you’d better be ready to get hit by a car or something.”

“No thanks, I’ll pass. I like my legs the way they are.”

Can’t say I blame you, she thought, smiling into her mug. She glanced over the brim at him, admiring the way his casual dress shirt clung to his arms and shoulders. Now that his hair was dry, she could see it had a little wave to it and it was just long enough to run fingers through. Her fingers if she had her way.

“Do you know a place? Because I’ve never been here before.”

“Me either.” Her hand shot up and a moment later the waiter appeared at their table. She smiled at him but it was a tight-lipped, sweetly professional smile and not the wide grin she’d been casting in Remy’s direction. “Besides the resort, is there anywhere you could recommend for dinner tonight?” she said.

“There’s a steak place on Main Street,” he said. “They’ve got local micro-brewery beers and peppercorn steak. Otherwise, there’s Chinese and a sandwich place.”

“I think we’ll try the steak,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Sure. Anything else?”

“Mm, could you toast up a whole-wheat bagel with some butter and bag that for me. I’ll take it to go.”

“No problem.”

“It’s stopped raining,” she said as they came out of the café into the lobby. “Want to go for a walk? They have a nice yard here with some paths. Shouldn’t be too bad for puddles.”

“I could use a bit of fresh air,” Remy said, but what he meant was, As long as I get to spend more time with you. They’d already lingered over coffee for over two hours, laughing and talking and flirting.

“Let’s go then.” Her phone rang and she sighed. “Hold on, that’s probably important.” She pulled the phone out of her bag and read the message on the screen. She typed something in return and dropped the phone back in her bag. “Sorry. I have to go. I’m needed, apparently.”