Wedding Bet (Fixer Brothers Construction Co #8)

1. Jamie

1

JAMIE

I’d only been in the Rocky Mountains for an hour, and already, I knew I’d royally screwed up.

“I look like a marshmallow,” I told my brother Chase over the phone. I turned around in the light and watched myself in the camera, frowning at the screen. “Tell me why I chose a white puffy jacket, again? And can you go back in time and slap me for choosing a white one?”

“It looks good with your eyes,” he said, peering at me through the video chat. “Makes the blue pop. And you got it because it was the only one on sale.”

“Right. Because no one else wanted it,” I said. “It’s colder than a popsicle out there, though, so I’m going to need it.”

I was in a hotel room that was fancier than anywhere I’d ever been in my life. The lamps were gold-colored, there were old paintings on all of the walls, and there had been an assortment of fine local Colorado chocolates on the pillow when I’d walked in. I sure as fuck couldn’t afford it, but I’d gone all out, treating myself because everybody always said I never did.

I picked up a napkin sitting on the side table, tracing my thumb over the gold impressions around its border and the resort name at the top.

“I know you only picked this ski resort because of its name.”

Chase groaned. “Why does everyone keep telling me that?”

“Chase. It’s called Snowcock Ski Resort. ”

“So what?”

I paused, giving him a look over the video call. “Snowcock. Ski. Resort. Snow, cock. ”

My brother’s radiant smile came across the screen a moment later. “Okay, so Adam and I did slightly prefer it to the other ones, but it’s not just because it’s called Snowcock, okay?”

“Where does that name even come from?” I asked. “I can picture the owners now, sitting in a room with cigars and brandy years ago, laughing about calling their ski resort Snowcock. I’m sure they knew it would get all of the people like you to come here.”

“Snowcock is the name of a mountain bird, thank you very much,” Chase said, holding up a finger.

“So you like it because you’re such a bird lover, huh?”

“Oh, hell, no,” Chase said. “I love snow. And cock, for that matter.”

We both laughed, and I pulled in a slow breath, taking in the lavish room again. “I am happy to be here at Snowcock . Even if I’m going to freeze all of my limbs off by the end of the week.”

“You’re going to love it,” Chase said. “I give it three hours before you’re in love with the snow.”

“Not going to happen,” I said. My brother was lovely and kind, but he’d moved to this frigid-ass place years ago, and he’d never been as much of a beach bum as me. “I wonder what the temperature is like in Stellara right now.”

Chase and I were from Stellara Beach, California, born and raised. On the video call I saw Chase lean over, checking the temperature app on his phone. “It’s apparently… seventy-five and sunny over there.”

“You just had to have a winter wedding ,” I teased him. “You always have to be different, don’t you?”

He smiled. “God, I’m so excited you’re actually here,” Chase said. “Adam and I are arriving there at the ski resort in a few hours. Your room looks fucking sweet, dude.”

Chase lived here in Colorado, about an hour further down the mountains toward Denver. He’d been planning his wedding for a year, and he and his fiance Adam had chosen one of the most beautiful ski lodges in the state. Up here, it was all fancy ski lodges and snow.

But I’d do anything for Chase. It was only the second time in years that I’d actually taken a vacation, and I never would have made it if it wasn’t for his wedding. I’d pinched pennies to visit him in Colorado before, and I had thought it was freezing even when I visited last fall.

I’d never even seen snow until today, when I got out of the cab in the mountains to see a blanket of snow over everything in sight.

“You’ll enjoy the resort,” Chase said.

“I’m going to head downstairs to try and find the bar soon,” I told Chase, taking my cell phone with me as I walked. I left the hotel room and meandered down the long hallway toward the gleaming elevator bay. “By the way, you didn’t tell me that people who look like billionaires hang out in ski lodges.”

“That’s why it isn’t just a ski lodge, it’s a ski resort ,” he clarified with a flourished, fake British accent. “The managers made sure to tell us that many times when we were booking the wedding.”

“I know you’ve toured the place before, but did you look at these elevator bays?” I asked, marveling at the sight. “There are these little mountain ranges carved into the gold around each elevator. Holy shit, Chase, these aren’t made of actual gold, are they?”

He laughed. “I think that would be wild even for Snowcock.”

I took a deep breath, glancing back down at my brother on the phone. “I can’t believe I’m here. I don’t feel like I deserve it, to be honest.”

“You deserve it more than any of us,” he said. “How did Mom do, getting to her room?”

“She was a champ,” I said. “She said her injuries aren’t acting up too much in the cold, and I think she’ll hold out okay.”

I’d flown in with our mom, who had been a dance and gymnastics teacher her whole life until an accident landed her with debilitating injuries years ago. It was the first time she’d traveled in years, and she had her own cozy, well-accommodated room on the first floor.

Chase gave me a warm smile, only a little hard to see past the scratched-up screen of my tiny, six-year-old smartphone. “I’ve got a gazillion things to do this wedding week, but even with hating the cold and taking care of Mom, try to enjoy yourself this week, Jamie. You deserve it.”

I knew what he was really thinking: Jamie, you’re off-duty for the first time in way too long, so for the love of God, loosen the hell up. Something close to that, at least.

I looked out the tall window at the end of the long hall. Sloping hills, spruce trees, and shrubs, all covered in a blanket of white. Winter Wonderland.

I felt like I was in another world.

“I’ll try,” I told Chase. “I love you. Mom wanted to relax and do her own thing tonight, but I’m sure she’ll hang out with us tomorrow.”

I mashed the down button near the elevator.

“Good.”

I caught a hint of my reflection in the shiny gold elevator doors. “And fine—maybe this jacket makes my blue eyes pop. But you know what else makes them pop? The ocean . In California. Where it’s not as cold as the deep-freeze. The beach is the only place I belong.”

He laughed. “You’re rocking the marshmallow look, Jamie.”

“If I have to look like a marshmallow, please at least tell me I look like a hot one?” I asked him.

The elevator finally dinged, its door swinging open right as Chase spoke.

I noticed too late that there was a man in the elevator, about to get an earful of my brother’s words over the phone.

“You are one hot fucking marshmallow, Jamie Blau,” he said, his voice loud and clear. “You got this.”

The man standing in the elevator looked up at me. I stared straight into the eyes of an immaculately dressed man who was leaning against the back wall of the elevator, and had definitely heard every word.

A tall, very attractive man.

“Thank you,” I said into the phone. My cheeks were growing hot, and blushing had never been something I could control. “I’ll call you back later.”

I hung up, Chase’s smiling face disappearing on my phone.

“Down?” the tall man in the elevator said, in a voice that was deep and calm.

“Oh. Well, it’s fake down. Synthetic,” I said, brushing my fingertips over the marshmallow coat. “Real feather-down coats an arm and a leg. And—oh, God, you’re talking about the elevator, not the coat. Shit. Sorry. You… are definitely just talking about the elevator.”

He gave me one calm nod, keeping his honey-brown eyes on me, then stuck his arm out to block the elevator doors from automatically closing.

I let out a long breath, nodding back at him and stepping inside. As the doors slid shut, I suddenly felt about twenty degrees hotter all over my body, and the synthetic down coat sure wasn’t helping with that.

I kept glancing over at him in a way that was hard to avoid when stepping into a small elevator with someone that handsome. He could have stepped right off the set of an old classic movie. His hair was a dark, chestnut brown, glinting in the overhead light of the elevator. He was wearing a long, natural tan-colored coat, a tasteful checkered scarf that looked so soft you could sleep in it, and leather shoes with just the right amount of shine.

“Sorry,” I said. “I, uh, babble when I’m tired, or out of place, or nervous, and I guess I’m all three right now.”

He glanced my way, briefly biting his lower lip. “You here for the wedding, too?”

I nodded. “Yes. You are, too?”

He gave me another calm nod.

“Wow. It’s amazing how many friends Chase and Adam have. Guys like me, and then guys like you, you know?”

He cocked his head a little, confused. “What do you mean?”

What I mean is you look like a million bucks, and I look like a polar bear after Christmas dinner, I thought.

“Nothing,” I finally said. “I’m Chase’s brother. And I’d guess you’re from here?”

“Not from here,” he said, cool as a cucumber. “But I do live here. One of my houses is here, at least. Chase and I both worked for the Fixer Brothers. We also all went skiing together here this past winter. Chase fell in love with it.”

“Right,” I said. “I remember he mentioned a ski trip last winter.”

Tall Guy was wearing some sort of scent that smelled so enticing that it made me want to sniff closer and closer toward him to figure out exactly where on his body he’d put it. It wasn’t anything like any cologne I’d ever smelled before—in fact, I was pretty sure every cologne I’d ever smelled before was a complete and utter insult to whatever this man had adorned his body with.

He smelled as expensive as he looked, of course. No puffy, cheap coat in sight.

And totally not my type, I thought. Guys like him always seemed a little… cold, maybe because they were so far out of my league. So wealthy. No wonder he looked like he belonged here among the snow.

“I’m Landry, by the way,” he finally said as the elevator almost reached the first floor, reaching out to shake my hand. “Landry Lucock. Or Lucky.”

I suppressed a cough.

Lucock?

I was at Snowcock Resort standing next to Landry Lucock?

I really had entered a bizarro world. Not that I was going to complain about it.

“Jamie Blau,” I said. “Sorry. Sweaty hands.”

“Feels fine to me,” Landry said, his hand much larger and stronger than mine, even in a quick shake.

“Your nickname’s Lucky?” I asked him.

“It’s what my friends call me,” he said with a nod. “You can, too, if you want.”

There was a glimmer of something behind his eyes as he watched me, as if he’d been trying to figure me out like a puzzle. “Chase said his brother was sweet, but he didn’t mention you were adorable,” he said.

A flood of warmth passed through my body.

The elevator dinged as we reached the lobby. Tall Magic Cologne Guy stepped out, glancing back at me as he walked off.

“I’ve always liked marshmallows,” he told me as he looked me up and down before giving me a warm, genuine smile before he walked off. His shoes clicked gently on the polished floor, his chestnut waves bouncing as he set off toward the lounge.

Okay. So maybe this particular rich guy didn’t look cold, or mean, or anything but drop-dead-perfect, at least when he was doing that. But he was still out of my league. As he walked away, I felt dazed, like I’d just been hit with a charisma tornado that was gone as soon as it started.

“Excuse me, sir.” A bellhop glared at me, barrelling by and pushing a particularly oversized load of suitcases on a metal cart.

I moved out of the way, looking over toward the entrance to the bar. But Tall Guy—Landry—had disappeared into the low-lit, exclusive area.

I headed over past the hotel lobby and front desk. I saw a sign that said Pub , pointing down a set of stairs that I followed down. It led to another, much cheaper bar located in the front. It seemed like most of the hotel and wedding guests were over at the lounge bar, where Tall Guy had disappeared into, but a week-long pass to the lounge bar also apparently cost five hundred dollars, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to be stepping foot in there.

The simple pub-style bar near the front was smaller, dark, and calm, though, and a few off-duty hotel service workers were sitting at one end of the oak bar top, slowly sipping beers.

“What will you have tonight, sir?” the bartender asked me.

I pulled out a ten-dollar bill and put it on the bar top. “What can this get me?”

“Two of the Snowbank Lagers or one of the Hopfenperles,” he said.

“I’ll go with two of the lagers, then,” I said, since I had no idea what the second thing was. “Keep the change.”

As I sipped my beer, I relaxed a little for the first time all day. It had been a chaotic, long day of travel—first a flight from California to Denver, then a shuttle bus across town, then a cab up to the ski resort.

When I’d received the fancy, thick envelope from Chase inviting me to his wedding, my first thought was louder than all the others: Who the hell has a wedding in the wintertime?

My second thought had been more along the lines of: how in the flying fuckballs am I going to afford that?

A couple of weeks later, with a little bit of help from my roommates, a lot of prodding and more help from my mom and Chase, and a savings account that I’d been trying to keep untouched for a far-flung future house, I realized I could scrape together the money for the trip out. But it hadn’t been an easy decision. Mom had taught gymnastics all throughout our childhoods, but after a very bad hip injury, she’d been saddled with surgery bills, medical bills, and joblessness ever since. Chase and I had spent most of our twenties slowly helping Mom out of a hole of debt while trying to stay afloat ourselves, but it hadn’t been easy. Chase was a TV cameraman who’d only started making much money in the last couple of years, and I…

Well, I fried eggs for a living at a diner.

But we were making it work. Slowly and surely. And even though I lived with roommates and squeaky pipes and paper-thin walls, I was deeply grateful for Mom’s health. For how close I lived to the beach. For being well-fed and relatively happy, even though I was so busy my romantic life was close to nonexistent.

I was genuinely happy for Chase and Adam, and I was determined to make the most of a snowy vacation I couldn’t afford.

Even if I didn’t fit in here at all.

As I finished my second lager, which I’d probably drank way too quickly, I looked up to see something that I didn’t understand. At first, it looked like a million tiny little flower petals must have been falling from the sky, collecting in little patches under the lamp posts by the pine trees.

But then I realized there were no flowers here, this time of year. And that I was definitely seeing another thing I’d never witnessed before in my life.

“Snowflakes,” I said, standing up and pointing toward the window. “It’s actually snowing?”

The few tired folks sitting around the bar looked over at me like I was losing my mind.

“Right. Forgot this happens here all the time,” I said.

The bartender gave me a polite smile. “Often.”

I reached for my puffy jacket and tugged it on again, nodding a thank you at the bartender before heading out toward the front doors of the hotel. They opened to a rush of colder air, but it felt nothing like the oppressive cold wind I’d experienced getting out of the cab earlier today.

Right now, in the still night air after I’d had a couple of beers, something almost felt good about the cold air in the beautiful, flaky snow.

Not good -good, of course.

Not as good as the beach. Or the ocean. The warm, endless waves.

But even I had to admit how peaceful and beautiful it was as I stepped out and walked down the stone path that meandered around the front of the hotel, past the drive-up lot and into small gardens surrounded with spruce trees. My boots crunched on the packed snow that had already been there, and I stopped in a little patch of pine trees, taking a long breath in, shoving my hands into the front pockets of my white coat.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, letting a few of the snowflakes collect on my face. Like raindrops, but softer.

I heard the faint sound of shoes on snow coming my way, and I knew my brief moment of solitude was nearly over.

As I turned to head back, I found out where the sound had been coming from.

“Oh. Hi,” I blurted out as I saw Landry sauntering down the stone path, stopping to look at me.

“Marshmallow,” he said, just as surprised as I was.

And if he’d looked good in the elevator, he looked about a thousand times better here, now, in the falling snow, after I’d had a couple of beers.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” he said, holding a hand out in the snow, the little flakes collecting on the perfectly tailored fabric of his coat. “Nothing more beautiful than snow on a still night.”

“I mean, high tide at the beach under the moonlight after a summer sunset is kind of hard to beat,” I said, “but yes. This is pretty wonderful, too. Don’t get a lot of this where I’m from.”

“Where’s home, for you?” he asked.

“Stellara Beach, California,” I said. “If you’ve never heard of it, you’re not alone. I don’t know if Chase has ever talked to you about our old town. It’s a tiny beach town mostly filled with hippies between Los Angeles and—”

“Between Los Angeles and San Diego,” he said, his expression softening into curiosity. “I drive through Stellara Beach all of the time. I’m from Los Angeles.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling awkward that I’d assumed he didn’t know. “That’s neat.”

“Neat,” he repeated. “I like that you use the word neat .”

I shifted on my feet. “Sorry. I’m not that great at conversations. I mean, ones like this , I guess. I do talk to people every day at the diner, but usually it’s followed by and how do you take your eggs , or do you want cream and sugar in that coffee . That sort of thing.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Maybe sometime I’ll drive through Stellara Beach and stop by your diner. I hope you’re coming skiing tomorrow?”

I’d heard that Chase, Adam, and some more of the wedding guests had been planning to hit the slopes tomorrow morning.

“Don’t think I’d be much good at that,” I told him. “I’m not exactly a snow bunny.”

“Seems like you’re having plenty of fun in it right now,” he said, reaching out to brush away the snowflakes that had accumulated on my head. “Have you ever surfed, Marshmallow?”

“Only a little,” I said.

“Well, skiing is kind of like that,” Landry said. “Okay, actually, I’m lying. Skiing is almost nothing like surfing. But you should try anyway. Let me give you my number and you can circle back with me tomorrow morning.”

He reached out to hand me a business card, small and white between his strong outstretched fingers. I just stared at it for a moment, dumbfounded. “Did you just call me a marshmallow and then offer me your phone number?” I asked.

“I’m usually better at flirting,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “But I’ve got nothing to lose.”

Suddenly the heat in my cheeks was all over my body, and in my puffy coat, I actually felt like I was overheating.

Had I heard that right?

Was he looking for a hookup?

“I’m actually going to head back into the bar, I think,” I said. I took the business card from him and stuffed it into my jacket pocket. “Have a good night, Landry.”

I walked past him, the snow flurries hitting my eyelashes. Some part of me wanted to believe it was true that a guy like him could really want a guy like me. But I knew what had likely happened: he’d probably tried and failed to hit on other guys in the fancy ski lodge bar, gotten bored, and when he’d come across me he’d decided to shoot his shot for one quick, nearly anonymous hotel romp.

But I wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of guy.

No matter how much of a dry spell I was in, I was holding out for real love, and I was pretty sure a random hookup with a businessman was the last place on Earth I was going to find it.

“Why don’t you come on in with me and keep me company in the lounge instead?” Landry said from behind me. I turned to face him again, deeply confused. “I’ll pay for your pass.”

I furrowed my brow at him. “It’s five hundred dollars.”

“Well, I get a slight member discount, but yes. I’ll pay it.”

“A lot of money.”

He nodded in accordance. “I won’t miss the money, Jamie. I won’t even notice it’s gone.”

My stomach sunk further down, like an anvil inside me.

There it was.

The inevitable reminder that I was in over my head here.

Five hundred bucks meant so much to me. It meant three-quarters of a month’s rent, for me and each of my roommates. It meant so many meals, even if they were canned soup or frozen stuff that Landry had probably never even touched. Five hundred bucks meant nothing to him, because he was from another world.

He’s just trying to be nice , I told myself. It’s what Chase would have said, and Mom would have said, for sure.

But another, louder, stupidly prideful voice inside me was winning out. I didn’t want a pity drink, a pity hookup, or a pity admission to a fancy bar where I’d probably feel out of place, anyway.

No matter how soulful Landry’s brown eyes were. No matter how nice he was trying to be.

“Ah. I—I think I’d rather just go back up to my room, for tonight,” I told him.

His scarf gently fluttered in a small breeze that passed through the air. He nodded once, his expression deflating, a little. “Sure thing, Jamie.”

I was gone soon after.

I went upstairs in a hurry, throwing off my jacket and pulling in a long breath the moment I made it back to my hotel room.

I hopped into a steaming hot shower, rinsing off and taking the chill away from my fingers and my face, replaying the conversation with Landry over and over again.

Now that I was out of the heat of the moment, I regretted how I’d acted.

I knew Chase was right. I was too picky. I’d had one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen basically begging me to share a drink with him, and I’d been too freaked out to take him up on the offer.

I changed into my pajamas and let out a long breath, looking out at the beautiful night-sky view past the windows in my hotel room. I jotted out a quick text to Chase, letting him know I was heading to bed and I’d see him tomorrow.

I really did want real love. With someone who felt like an equal . Something like Chase and Adam had. I wasn’t virginal or inexperienced—it wasn’t like I was some pure, thirty-year-old angel. But after a few soulless hookups in my early twenties, I’d all but sworn them off.

Was it so bad to hold out for more?

To hold out for something real?

Once I was in bed, I turned on a cheesy, cozy holiday movie on the TV. I was almost dozing off when I heard a knock at the door.

I swung it open to see a room service worker holding a silver platter with one drink on it.

“Sent from… Landry Lucock,” the young worker said as she read a receipt. “An Irish Creme White Russian, for you.” She handed me the drink and a little folded note along with it, and I thanked her and headed back into my room.

Chase told me which room to send this to. Apologies if I came on too strong. Enjoy this cocktail on me—my favorite winter indulgence.

And thanks for keeping me company out in the snow, Marshmallow. I needed it.

-Lucky

My heart pounded a little harder in my chest as I read the note and took a sip of the delicious drink.

I lounged in bed, enjoying the rest of it as I imagined Landry sending it over.

He said that he’d needed the company tonight. Was it possible that he was actually just as lonely and out of place as I was? It seemed impossible, but stranger things had happened.

Things as strange as me ending up in the freaking snowy mountains this December.

I pulled out my phone and fished the business card out of my jacket pocket after I’d finished my drink. A mixture of exhaustion and tipsiness had warmed my blood, and for the first time all night. I let my guard down.

I texted the cell phone number on the business card.

Jamie: Thank you for the drink, Lucky.

I was surprised when my phone vibrated a couple of minutes later.

Landry : My pleasure. And, again, apologies. For the flirting. I think I was off base.

I bit my lower lip, a little surge of adrenaline rolling through me. Even if I wasn’t going to hook up with the guy, he was intriguing. Maybe I could have a little fun.

Live a little, like everyone always urged me to do.

What did I have to lose?

Jamie : Maybe try it again tomorrow morning at skiing, and we’ll see.