“Yeah, had a skirmish with Cindy this morning. The night apart will do us good.” Bill cracked a smile.
I couldn’t help smiling back. Bill and Cindy had a skirmish every six weeks or so. He said it did wonders for their twenty-year marriage, but I wasn’t so sure. But then again, the longest relationship I’d ever been in was with my right hand.
Bill and Cindy were the first friends I made in town. Cindy was a kindergarten teacher, and Bill had been in the Army before settling down in the mountains. In addition to being a teacher, Cindy loved to bake. At least once a week, Bill brought in banana bread or cookies for me to take home and more to share with the office buzzards.
“Do I want to know what the fight was about?” I peeled back the vent on my coffee before taking a sip.
“Baking.” Bill rolled his green eyes. “All she wants to watch are those goddammed baking shows on Netflix. I wanted to catch a few episodes of Schitt’s Creek, but no, we had to watch some Brits bake biscuits, which are actually cookies.” He stood from his seat to stretch his arms over his head. I couldn’t help noticing the way his tight uniform pants clung to his ass.
Aside from the fact that Bill was straight, he was exactly my type of man. He was five-seven, at the most, with greying dark hair buzzed close. He had a quick wit, but dubious taste in television. I loved The Great British Baking Show and hated Schitt’s Creek. Well, the two episodes I’d seen of it. “Why didn’t you compromise?”
Bill started to laugh. “Here’s a life hack for you, kid. Compromise in a marriage means that you do everything she wants in the vain hope she’ll suck your dick.”
No one at work knew I was gay or a bear or a gay bear. “Did she?” Christ I was quickly slipping down a rabbit hole I didn’t want to get stuck in.
Bill raised an eyebrow. “No, there was no dick sucking. Just more episodes about bread and frosting, and some fucking meat pie that nearly gave me a heart attack from just looking at it. Fucking thing was a foot tall.” He held his hand over his desk to demonstrate the height.
Maybe I just wasn’t relationship material. I had no idea why what to watch on Netflix led to no sex and a fight between spouses. Were they the kind of people who liked to fight because they liked making up even more? I was about to ask when the phone rang.
I grabbed my second donut while Bill responded to the call. It didn’t sound good.
“Truck hit a deer on purpose, witnesses are saying. Let’s head out.” Bill shook his head.
“Out-of-towners or someone local?” I asked. We’d had a rash of kids who thought it was funny to run over wildlife for fun.
“Not sure.” Bill slipped into his heavy winter jacket.
According to the thermometer on the side of the building, it was twenty-two degrees. This was the promised temperature drop. It was only going to get colder from here. What was worse was I could smell snow in the air, and we were in for a lot more than the promised two feet.
Unless I missed my guess, we were in for a blizzard.
3
Tanner
The problem with being the responsible friend in the group is that I was the only one awake and ready to go for a hike. No one answered when I knocked on Archer’s door. Wells looked like he’d been shot out of a cannon. I told him I was going for a walk. I had no idea where Cabot and the hunky bear from last night ended up. I sent him a text asking if he’d woken up in a bathtub full of ice, but I didn’t get an answer. He was either dead or dead-tired from being ridden hard and put away wet.
Not that I was jealous. Well, not much, anyway. That guy last night was exactly my type. If Cabot hadn’t spotted him first, I would have made my move. Eventually. I’d never been good at being forward with men. It was one of those pesky faults I needed to change in myself if I didn’t want to end up a spinster. Or whatever the hell the gay equivalent was.
A sad, old queen, my mind supplied.
Christ, I was only twenty-six, I wasn’t ready for the scrap heap just yet.
My stomach rumbled as I reached for my new L.L. Bean snow parka. I’d ordered it in the fall, but this was the first time I’d worn it. This was a heavy-duty coat for when temperatures dipped into the twenties and below. The catalog description said the coat was good to negative forty degrees Fahrenheit, but I didn’t want to find out if that was the case. According to the weather app on my phone, it was a crisp twenty-seven degrees outside. I could live with that. At least for a little while. Grabbing my hat and gloves, I patted myself down for my room key. It was in my back pocket. I had one hand on the doorknob when my stomach grumbled again. I doubled back for a protein bar, which I shoved in my coat pocket. I didn’t plan on being gone long.
The lobby of the Presidential was a beehive of activity. The main dining room was full of families enjoying breakfast, while other guests were scattered around the large stone fireplaces, some chatting, while others read the morning newspaper.
“Mr. Reign?” a handsome gentleman from the front desk motioned to me.
“Good morning, Paul.” I read his name from his nametag. “Is there a message from Mr. French?”
The young man blushed before pushing a note to me across the desk. My eyes widened as I read the words: Biggest dick ever. I looked from the note back to the desk clerk who’d started to squirm. ‘Biggest dick ever’ had two definite meanings. Cabot could have at least had the decency to indicate which one he meant. “I’m so sorry to ask this, but did Mr. French sound angry or…” Or what? Blissed out? Horny? Maddeningly happy? “In some sort of distress?”
“He sounded worn out and strangely proud of himself.” Paul grimaced at me.
That explained it. The stranger was well hung and not a complete asshole. I felt better for a minute. Why the hell hadn’t Cabot called or texted me? Why had he called the hotel instead? “Did he mention if his phone was missing?”
Paul nodded. “He said he’d be back later. Maybe.” The young man shook his head. He was looking more uncomfortable by the second.
“I’m off for a hike if anyone is looking for me.” Speaking of squirming, I was starting to get hot standing in my outdoor gear in the warm lobby.
“Enjoy.” Paul looked relieved as I walked away from the front desk, heading toward the extensive back balcony. It wasn’t unusual for any of us to hook up with other men on these trips, but this was the first time one of us had to leave a message with a hotel desk clerk.
Cabot and his big-dicked bear were pushed out of my mind when I walked out onto the balcony of the hotel. It spanned half the length of the structure and was decorated with tables and sitting areas with couches and chairs.
I caught my breath at the sight of the Presidential Range. Mount Washington, the highest peak in all of New England, was fully visible, which rarely happened. I pulled out my phone to snap a few shots and selfies. I loved the way the mountaintops were dusted with snow, but the hotel grounds were bare. It was definitely unusual to be this deep into the winter and not have snow on the ground.
Heading for the back stairs, I felt the heat from lamps set up to allow the Presidential’s guests the opportunity to enjoy the outdoors in January. Couples were enjoying late breakfasts or reading the paper, while others stared off at the mountains. I’d try to talk the guys into having breakfast here in the morning. If Cabot wasn’t still AWOL with his new lover.