Silk Stocking Inn: The Complete Series

  “That’s all very nice, but I can’t stay. In fact, I’ve got friends waiting for me. They’ll be worried if I don’t show. They’ve probably already called the police,” I added just in case my clairvoyant hostess was an ax murderer. Although, I was sure an ax murderer would never be capable of baking five star red velvet cupcakes.

  I pulled out my phone. “I’ll just let them know where I am.” I looked at the phone. There was no service.

  “I’m afraid cell phones don’t work too well up here. Especially when that nuisance of a fog rolls in.”

  “Why am I not surprised,” I muttered to myself as I placed the phone back in my purse.

  Coco placed another cupcake on a plate and slid it across the counter toward me. “Looks like you’re almost done with that one.”

  “No, thank you. Two would be pushing it.”

  Coco laughed. “Sometimes pushing it is not such a bad thing, Jessi.”

  I found myself licking off every bit of frosting. “Right, well, I’ll just finish this one and be off. I can pay for it, of course.”

  “No need. But I’m afraid traveling in that fog at night would be treacherous. I’ve got a lovely room for you upstairs. You might find it so comfortable that you’ll stay all weekend.”

  I turned and walked to the front window. I could see every blade of grass and dandelion weed on the front lawn under the glowing yard lights, but five feet past the driveway, where my car was parked, the atmosphere was thick with fog. She was right. I’d be lost before I traveled half a mile.

  I turned back around. Coco was pulling sticks of butter out of the refrigerator. She placed them on the counter. “I’ll show you to your room.”

  “But I didn’t bring anything for an overnight stay.”

  “No worry. Everything your heart desires will be provided.” There was a glint in her green eyes as she spoke. “Follow me.”

  6

  Coco led me to an upstairs room that was filled with a huge bed, complete with antique wrought iron headboard and enough pillows and quilts to hibernate in. An ornate brass fireplace screen sat in front of a brick hearth, just begging for a fire to lick at its gold metal scrolls.

  Coco walked over to a massive mahogany dresser and patted a silk nightie and robe that had been laid out on it. “I’ll deliver dinner up to your room after your bath. Chicken and mashed potatoes all right?”

  “That’s my favorite. I’d ask how you knew but since your explanations are nothing short of vague and perplexing, I’ll save my breath. This is a lovely room, by the way. And, you know, I think I will treat myself to that bath.”

  “Right this way.” Coco was pretty darn perplexing herself. At times she’d float along like a spry teenager with a bounce in her step, and at other times, she seemed to move rather slowly, like my Grandmother Jeanie after she’d been sitting too long.

  She pushed open a door into a spacious bathroom. An array of lit candles stood sentry around the tub, their flames flickering off the glittering white bathroom tile. A huge claw foot tub, nearly overflowing with sparkling bubbles, was sitting in the center of the room. The scent of lavender swirled around me like a perfect floral cloud.

  “Even if this is all a dream, I think I’m going to enjoy myself.” The words were really just me thinking aloud, but Coco laughed in response.

  “The enjoyment has only just begun.” She waved her hand toward the tub with a flourish. “I’ll go down and see about dinner. Oh, and you’ll need a few more towels.”

  She left me standing in the middle of her glorious bathroom. Just as my mouth had watered at the sight of the cupcakes, it was watering at the sight of the sumptuous bath. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d allowed myself the luxury of soaking in a bubble filled tub.

  I was like a kid locked in a candy store overnight. I knew the smart, proper and reasonable thing would be to call someone or find a way out, but, just like any real and truly smart kid, I decided to take advantage of the delights being offered.

  I slipped off the crisp blue coat, the one that I’d had perfectly tailored to match the pencil skirt that now felt tight and constricting. I pushed off my designer heels and reached back to unzip the skirt. I pushed it off and stepped out of it. My blouse, bra and panties fell in a neat pile next to the tub. Coco had seen to everything. A satiny sleep blindfold was resting on top of a plush white towel.

  I dipped my toes into the water. It was an ideal temperature. I briefly tried to deduce how she’d managed to have a perfectly warm bath waiting for an unexpected guest, but it took far too much thinking.

  I stepped into the water. Teeny, opalescent bubbles floated up as my body sank down into the lavender scented water. I put the blindfold over my head and pulled it down over my eyes. My elbow hit the bar of soap resting on the edge of the tub. It thudded on the floor. I was too cozy in my bubble quilt to reach for it.

  The tub was designed perfectly for reclining. I relaxed back with a long sigh.

  A rush of cool air ushered inside the bathroom and footsteps plodded over the tile floor. Coco returning with the towels, I decided.

  “Coco, I think I just invented a new type of sigh. It’s one that goes perfectly with the act of melting one’s body into a splendid tub of warm water.” I repeated the sound, and it swished around the room like a lost whisper. “Thank you so much for this. If you don’t see me in the morning, you’ll find me still sitting beneath the bubbles. You can just leave the towels. If it’s not too much trouble, could you retrieve the bar of soap? I knocked it off the edge.”

  Footsteps tapped the tile as Coco neared the bath. I was growing drowsy behind the blindfold as I lazily lifted my hand above the bubbles. Surprisingly callused fingertips grazed my palm as the soap landed on my hand.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” The deep voice echoed off the walls and sent me upright.

  I yanked off the blindfold and was staring at a faded pair of jeans. The bulge in front assured me of what my terror-filled mind had already surmised. Coco wasn’t the second person in the room.

  I peered up at the impossibly tall man. His broad shoulders cast a giant shadow over the tub. His dark blue eyes stared down at me, more specifically at my breasts, which I’d now revealed by sitting straight up out of my bubble cloak.

  I sank back down into the water. “I don’t know how you got in here, but—”

  “Came in through the door, and I heartily approve of the new type of sigh. Works well in this context.” He stooped down next to the tub with a crooked smile that could only be described as a knee wobbler, a term Cara and I had come up with for a man whose smile caused a woman’s knees to turn to jelly. The rest of his face went well with the smile.

  His hand curled around the edge of the bath. I scooted away, which was comical considering I could only move about two inches before coming up against the far side of the tub.

  “Coco sent me up here with the towels.” He inclined his head toward the vanity where he’d placed the towels. He made no attempt at hiding the fact that he was staring down into the bubbles.

  “Thank you for the towels. Now please get out.”

  He didn’t move. His smile pushed a nice crease alongside his mouth that only added to its appeal. His eyes were a dark blue, framed by thick black lashes. Dark brown hair was just messy and long enough to make me take a long, steadying breath. The hair curled up nicely on the collar of his flannel shirt. For a brief, scandalous moment, I imagined running my hand through his thick head of hair.

  My uninvited bath guest rested his chin on the edge of the tub, bringing his face even with mine. One foot closer and our mouths would be pushed together.

  “Are you always this uptight when you’re soaking in a bubble bath?” he asked.

  “Only when I have a big, intimidating stranger hanging on the edge of the tub.”

  “I can’t do anything about the big, or intimidating”—he raised a brow about that assessment—“but—” He stuck out his hand. It was huge and
looked as if it could wield a hammer as well as it could finger me into a raging orgasm. Whoa, where the heck did that erotic thought come from? Must have been the sugar high and the heady scent of lavender. The gorgeous man staring at me didn’t hurt either.

  “I’m Grayson.”

  I lifted my hand from the bubbles taking care not to expose more than my arm. I placed my hand in his. It was strong and callused. I held it longer than necessary for a traditional handshake.

  “Jessi.”

  “There. We’re no longer strangers.” He stood up. Once again, his massive physique cast a shadow over the bathtub. He gazed down at me as if he could see right through the bubbles.

  I squirmed a little under his scrutiny, which only helped to obliterate some of my soapy cover. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Grayson, but as you see, I’m not really in a state to receive guests right now.”

  His tilted smile returned. “Guess I’ll leave you to your bath then. But if you need anything else, towels, soap retrieved or even your back washed, just whistle. I’ll be across the hall.”

  I nearly made the mistake of sitting straight up again but stopped just before my nipples popped up above the surface. “You’re staying here? At the Silk Stocking Inn?”

  “Free room and board came with the handyman job. Catch you later, Jessi. Maybe next time without the bubbles.” He walked out of the bathroom before I could devise a clever retort.

  I heard the bedroom door shut and sank back down. “Glad he’s gone,” I said to myself.

  But as I lowered the blindfold over my eyes and relaxed back, all I could think about was his big, rough hands washing my back.

  7

  No wonder my mom never let me eat dessert first. The cupcakes had destroyed my appetite for dinner. As hungry as I’d been when I arrived at the inn, I could barely take a bite of the fried chicken, a delicious drumstick that was every bit as deliciously prepared as the cupcakes. I picked off a piece of the buttered biscuit on the plate and absently stared into the roaring fire as I pushed the morsel between my lips.

  I thought about the day and how I’d reached a point in my career that was something to celebrate, only I really had no one to celebrate with. My quest for success had, somehow, left me without a lot of close friends. My constant search for the right man had become so tiresome, I’d basically given up on the idea. My lacking social life had allowed me to pour myself into my job. Apparently, it had also left me lonely enough to conjure erotic daydreams about soda delivery men. And, it seemed I was at it once again. The last man to have walked casually into my life, or not so casually since he’d already seen me clad only in soap bubbles, had really done a number on my imagination. He’d walked out wearing that cocky smile and a thin layer of sweat and grit from a day of work, and all I could think about was falling into his massive arms and curling up against his flannel covered chest. Actually, the flannel wasn’t even a necessary part of the fantasy. Bare skin would be just fine too.

  There was a knock at the door. I flew to it, visions of my hunky soap rescuer floating through my head like sugarplums. Or cupcakes, since I really had no idea what a sugarplum was. I smoothed my long, slightly unruly hair back, pinched my cheeks for some color and spread the top of my robe just a little wider to expose some cleavage. Then, with a smile that could have won me a spot on a toothpaste commercial, I opened the door.

  My shoulders dropped a bit, erasing my nicely presented cleavage. The flashy white smile went too. “Coco, it’s you.”

  Her all-knowing grin appeared, assuring me that she, once again, knew what I was thinking. My cheeks warmed in embarrassment.

  “I was just checking to see if you wanted me to take the plates down to the kitchen.”

  “Plates? Oh yes, well, I didn’t quite finish. It’s delicious, but I think the cupcakes sort of wiped out my hunger.”

  Coco followed me inside, and I handed her the plates. As she took them, some of those phantom age lines around her eyes reappeared. But by the time she turned to leave, they were gone. Her posture straightened too. She stopped in the doorway. “I’ve got a nice white wine chilling downstairs. Would you like a glass?”

  “Yes, that sounds wonderful. I’ll follow you down, so you don’t have to make another trip up to my room.” We walked out into the hallway.

  A shower was running behind a bathroom door. Coco inclined her head toward it. “Did Grayson deliver the towels?”

  “Uh, yes, yes he did.”

  “He’s such a doll. And he’s very handy.” She said the last word in such a way that it left no room for interpretation. I wondered just how much work the man was doing around the Silk Stocking Inn. Well, I didn’t need to be part of Coco’s strange, tawdry world. I’d be out of the place at first light.

  I took the wine with a quick thank you, not completely sure why I was suddenly so angry at the woman, but her suggestive comment about Grayson had sparked a bit of jealousy. It was ridiculous, of course, since I had nothing to do with the man, or Coco for that matter. I’d slip out of here at dawn and never look back. Although the cupcakes, dreamy room and bathtub were going to be hard to forget.

  My mind had been so preoccupied, I hadn’t realized that I’d drained the wine glass before I’d even reached the top of the stairs. Oddly enough, I was already feeling a little tipsy from it. It was probably just the extraordinary day catching up to me.

  I reached the landing and made a bee-line for my bedroom door.

  My determined path was interrupted as the bathroom door flew open and a soapy steam seeped out into the dark hallway. I stopped short as I found myself directly in front of a half-naked handyman.

  My eyes shifted downward and lingered along the dark line of hair that bisected Grayson’s taut abdomen and disappeared beneath the edge of the towel he had wrapped low around his hips.

  “Bubbles, we meet again. How was the bath?” His dark eyes looked navy blue under the dim hall light. He stared straight down the gap in my robe. I made a show of being offended. But I was hardly that. What I really wanted to do was slide the silky robe right off my shoulders to show off the skimpy nightie beneath.

  “The bath was lovely, and now, if you’ll excuse me—” I tried to sidestep him, but he mirrored my step with his own.

  “I see the long soak didn’t wash away any of the uptightness.” Water dripped off the ends of his dark hair, and the beads of liquid rolled over his muscular shoulders and chest.

  “I’m not the least bit uptight.” I lifted the empty wine glass. “I just don’t want to keep you. You’re leaving a puddle of water on Coco’s hallway floor.”

  He glanced down. I was certain he was going to check for water on the floor, instead his gaze stopped at the thin ribbon tied around my waist, holding together the panels of my satin robe.

  “You’ve got me curious, Bubbles,” he said as he stepped close enough for me to see every dark beard stubble on his strong jaw.

  “The name is Jessi. Jessica, actually.” I stepped back. “And exactly what are you so curious about?”

  He glanced at the glass in my hand and then took another step toward me. I backed up and found myself pressed against the wall. I peered up at him as he moved closer, near enough that I could smell the soap on his freshly washed skin.

  He lifted his hand and dragged his fingers along my forearm. “I was just curious how that wine might taste on those amazing lips of yours.”

  The glass slipped from my fingers, but before it crashed to the floor, Grayson snatched it from midair.

  “Nice reflexes,” I said, my voice suddenly sounding nothing like my usual confident tone. He set the glass down on the small wooden table behind him.

  “Thanks. I have a reputation for moving fast.”

  More sexual innuendo and instead of taking it as my cue to duck out from between the man and the wall, I stayed there, glued against the wallpaper as if someone had put the paste on the wrong side.

  He lifted his hand and leaned his impressive forearm against the
wall behind me, moving his body so that it was just an inch from mine. Heat radiated off his half-naked form. The warmth seemed to find its way beneath my robe and nightie. A swirl of it curled around my thighs and between my legs.

  “Something tells me, Jessi, that under the right circumstances and with the right person, you’d be less uptight. Hell, you might even have some fun.”

  “I have fun. I have fun all of the damn time,” I protested lamely.

  “Yeah? Prove it.” Before I knew what was happening, his hand reached up and tugged at the frail ribbon around my robe. The panels parted as he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against mine. His tongue teased me, demanding me to part my lips. I complied.

  His kiss deepened. It sent a shiver of pleasure through me, reducing me to putty in his hands. Any tension or inhibitions I’d felt earlier flowed from my body, and I melted into his arms. And they weren’t just any arms. They felt powerful, secure, even protective as they folded around me.

  Grayson lifted his mouth from mine and lowered his kisses to my neck. My head lulled back as he dragged his mouth along my throat to the swell of my breast. He pushed the top of my nightgown down with his chin, his rough beard stubble scraping deliciously against my skin.

  He dropped his arms with a groan, grabbed my hand possessively and led me along the hallway like a shiftless kite on the end of a string. My head was light from the wine and his kisses. My feet fell, one in front of the other, trailing behind him until we ended up at my door. Grayson turned to me and pulled me into his arms as the door pushed open. His mouth devoured mine as he spun me around and backed me toward the bed. My robe fell to the ground with one push of his hand.