In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes: Chapter 25
THE NEXT WEEKEND, I woke up with my hand on my cock, the sheets tangled around my hips, and Sadie’s name in my mouth. The memory of her warm curves pressed into me weaved through my sleep-hazed head as I stroked, half-conscious.
I couldn’t stop thinking about my fucking matchmaker. She had zero interest in dating, zero interest in living in Queen’s Cove, and now she had her dream job waiting for her back in Toronto. I’d heard her telling Olivia about it at the bar the other day, all excited and giddy, showing her photos of Claire’s past projects.
This place was a pitstop for her.
Her on top of the bar flashed into my head and I groaned. Fuck, she had looked so hot up there.
One last time, I told myself as I worked my length, picturing the swell of her tits as she writhed with the music. Guilt wrenched through my chest. I shouldn’t be jerking off to her. Pressure coiled at the base of my spine. This was the last time I’d think about her while doing this because I didn’t want to get used to it.
The last time.
I pictured her in the bed with me, and instead of my hand, it was hers. Her eyes flicking between my length and my face as I watched, helpless and in awe of her. Her thick, shiny hair would cascade over her shoulder and I’d wrap the length of it around my fist.
God, she was fucking gorgeous.
My groan moved up through my chest as I came, spilling over my hand and tensing hard. I exhaled heavily and sunk back into bed to catch my breath.
No more thinking about Sadie naked. No more thinking about us in bed together.
Now that was done, I could focus on women who were available.
IT TOOK me an hour to write an email that morning.
Saturdays were my most productive day. The office was empty and quiet and distractions were at a minimum. It was the perfect time to focus and get work done.
My mind wandered to Sadie and the inn, and for once, the silence in the office suffocated me.
The gnawing, empty ache in my chest expanded, and I blew a long breath out, tapping my fingers on the desk.
She was probably still in bed, dozing, or drinking her coffee downstairs. Or maybe she was painting. I thought about the painting she did of me and snorted.
Between endless meetings and emails and fires to put out at work and falling on my face trying to date, working at the inn had been solace. Now that I didn’t have a major project to get involved with, tiling bathrooms, hauling bathtubs out, and taking mirrors off walls had filled the need to work with my hands and turn my brain off for a couple hours a week.
And Sadie. I liked hanging out with her. Talking with her in the forest last weekend had been so easy, like I had known her for years. I guess I had, but I hadn’t really known her. Not like this.
Irritation pinched me in the chest. Why couldn’t I find someone here in Queen’s Cove who was easy to talk to? Whose eyes lit up when she listened to me talk about art or daydreamed about a treehouse bar in the woods?
I stared out the window at Main Street, thinking about her. The sky was overcast, gloomy and gray, and my office was the last place I wanted to spend the day.
The conversation I had with Emmett in this office replayed in my mind and my chest tightened with anxiety at the idea of handing half our company over to a stranger. The report I was working on could wait until Monday.
I jumped up and headed to my truck.