Matchmaker 11: November

He nodded. "Says the billionaire. I have more money than I can spend, but you know what I don't have? Someone to share my life with." He paused, glancing at me as he turned the Tahoe into the long drive leading to the cabin. "I'll let you in on a little secret. The last two weeks, here, alone with you, I've been as happy as I can remember."

A wave of heat rolled over me with his words. It was the first solid affirmation he'd given that I was winning him over. I smiled, pleased that my plan was working.

"Same here."

"Really?"

"Really."

He pulled into the garage and stopped, but he didn't close the door and left the truck running. "You're going to tell me you're happy here?"

Another wave of heat rolled over me, but this time in fear. "What do you mean?"

"Sage, you're not fooling me. You miss the nightlife, internet, cell service, and all the things you can find at home."

I put on my courtroom face, giving nothing away. "Why do you say that?"

"Because it's obvious. I'm not upset about it, but are you going to tell me I'm wrong?"

My face was burning. For two weeks I thought I had him fooled, but the only person I was fooling was myself. "No," I murmured. "I did miss those things, at first, but not now. Not as much anyway," I said, trying to salvage something.

He took my hand and squeezed it. "I have to admit, I was a little surprised when you said you wanted to start walking with me."

He was completely unflappable. "Me too, but I've enjoyed it. I'm hoping I'll see some deer again sometime."

"Maybe. I'm sorry I dragged you way out here, but I won't lie and say I haven't enjoyed having you all to myself," he said as he released my hand and switched off the Chevy's engine.

I opened my door. "Would you believe me if I told you, despite the fact I was bored out of my head the first week, I've enjoyed being here with you too?"

He stepped out of the SUV, holding the bag of oranges, and looked at me over the hood. "Have you really?"

"Yeah, I really have."

"I wanted to get away from it all, to leave the world behind as much as possible. No phones, no internet, nothing. I'm sure me saying this will upset all the Johns of this world, but I think I'm going to buy a place like this. Someplace where I can go and get away for a while." He paused and smiled at me. "I probably won't pick someplace so cold in the winter, though."

"Maybe you need two," I suggested. "One here for the summer, and one in Florida or Arizona for the winter."

"Maybe."

"What?" I asked as a look of melancholy clouded his face briefly.

"Nothing."

"Oh, no," I said with a smile. "You were hammering away on me about my attitudes, so spill it."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It'd be nice to have someone to share it with."

I wanted to take the opportunity to strike, to tell him I was would be willing to do that, but I didn't want to push him. Rich and handsome, he was probably used to women throwing themselves at him. I'd spent the better part of two weeks slowly drawing him in, being the woman I thought he wanted me to be. I wasn't going to ruin all that hard work by coming on too strong. Despite what I thought, I hadn't fooled him at all, and he was dangerously close to seeing me for what I was doing. I didn't want to give him any additional reason to suspect me.

"I'm sure you'll find someone."

He smiled at me. "I'm hoping." He shivered. "Let's go in. It's too cold to stand out here in the garage."

"I know a way to warm you up," I purred as I joined him, nestling into his side when he passed. Sex was always a good way to distract a man and placate any concerns he was having.

"You do?" he teased.

"Oh yeah."

"Well, okay," he said as we stepped into the kitchen, his voice full of resignation. "I'm still a little full from lunch, but I guess we can go for a walk now if you want. Go put on your boots." I pulled him to a stop and stared at him, a bemused smile on my face. He wasn't fooling anyone either. "No?" he asked as he placed the oranges on the counter. I shook my head. "You don't want to put on your walking shoes?" Another shake of my head. "Want to take a few things off?" I nodded this time. "Am I supposed to take off stuff too?" Another nod. He smiled. "I like your idea."

"I thought you might."

He pulled me to him and kissed me warmly. My body responded and I began to flood with desire. I wanted him so badly. He ended the kiss, his gaze holding mine. I'd started out fucking him because I wanted something from him. A small smile on his lips was mirrored on mine. I still wanted something from him, but at this moment, it wasn't his money.

"I want you," he whispered.

My smile spread slightly. "I want you too."

He kissed me again and I melted into his chest as he held me, his strong arms surrounding me to hold me tight. We sighed out of the kiss together, and I felt the familiar tickle of thrill from being desired by a handsome man. He caressed my face gently before stepping past me, taking my hand, and towing me up the steps and to our bedroom.

Inside the room he pulled me to a stop before stepping behind me, his lips on my neck as his big, strong hands cupped my breasts. I sighed as his loving touch spooled up my desires even more. I reached behind me and gripped his manhood, his soft hiss my reward. Oh yes, I wanted something from him, and I would have it. I smiled as his hands slid down my body to my most intimate area before pulling my ass firmly back into the bulge in his pants. I released my grip and slowly gyrated my hips as he pressed his manhood more firmly against my ass, the feel of his hardness exciting me even more. I smiled as I reached up, my arm curling around his head to hold his lips to my neck. Just like always, I was going to get what I wanted, hopefully, more than once.

The splitting maul contacted with the log in a hearty thump! I grunted as I worked to free the tool from the chunk of wood I was attempting to split. I wasn't very good at wood splitting, but I enjoyed the mindless effort, and it felt good to flex my muscles a little.

I swung again, and for once I hit the same spot cleanly and the cleaved the chunk of wood. When we arrived, I thought there was plenty of wood available for the fireplace, but three weeks in, the neatly stacked wood was considerably reduced. I'd ordered more firewood from someone in Ely that supplied the locals, but I hadn't thought about it arriving unsplit. Rather than admit my mistake when it arrived, I'd simply pretended that was how I wanted it. For two days, I'd spent an hour or so in the morning and another hour in the afternoon learning to swing the maul, and best of all, I hadn't yet cut off my foot or severed a hand.

The first day made me sore, but Sage had enthusiastically helped me work out the soreness in front of a roaring fire. I smiled as I returned one of the pieces to the block that was the perfect height for splitting and swung the maul down with a grunt. The half pieces split much easier than the whole pieces, and I could often split them in one swing. I added the two pieces to the growing pile and picked up the other half piece and split it. I was still working out if I preferred to split a lot of pieces and stack it all at once or stack each piece as I split it.

After adding the latest two pieces to the pile, I wrestled the next chunk of wood onto the chopping block. I smiled in triumph as the piece split cleanly with one swing. Sometimes it did, most of the time it didn't, and I couldn't figure out if it was the wood or my lack of skill was causing me to work so hard.

I continued to hack away at the wood, lost in my thoughts. Only a week to go, then Sage and I would go our separate ways. She was still one of the most beautiful women I'd ever met, and I certainly enjoyed her adventurous and almost insatiable sexual appetite, but I had a feeling it wasn't going to work out for us. It was too bad, but I was used to failure. I could run an airline, but I couldn't seem to find the right woman.

Before Sage, the problem had been women tried too hard. Like Sage, they were eager to please, but they were too eager. It was almost like they had no will of their own. They never disagreed with me or expressed displeasure at any of my actions. They might pout a little, but they never called me out. I didn't want a yes-woman. I didn't like it at work, and I didn't like it in my personal life. If I was full of it, I wanted someone to tell me. More annoying was some of the women seemed to expect me to be a mind reader. If they didn't tell me what they wanted or enjoyed, how was I supposed to know what they did or didn't like?

Sage wasn't like that. She certainly had her own opinions, and I liked the fact that if I asked, she didn't mind telling me what she thought. She was still eager to please, but not overly so, and I tried to take into account her wants. We'd settled into a very pleasant and comfortable routine, but I wanted more. If all I wanted was a woman to share my bed each night, I had plenty of options for that. I didn't want a friend with benefits, I wanted a partner, but thus far, none of the women I'd dated fit the bill. They were too... malleable.

Sage was certainly her own person, and I liked the fact that she knew what she wanted, went after it with every fiber of her being, and let nothing stand in her way. Beautiful, smart, and strong, she could be the one I was looking for. But there was a problem, even with her. I had the sense she was holding back, that I wasn't seeing the true Sage Piper. I tried to draw her out, and I'd occasionally catch a glimpse of what I thought was the real person inside her, but then she'd tuck that part of herself away. I didn't know why. I couldn't figure out if she wasn't happy with me and was simply trying to protect my feelings until the month was over, she had some deep dark secret she was keeping from me, or some other reason.

Trying to protect my feelings didn't seem right. She didn't seem to mind sharing her opinion, nor did she mind telling me no, though hard rejections were few and far between. I tried to imagine what secret she could be keeping from me, but her life seemed to be an open book. She wasn't eager to talk about herself, but on the other hand, she didn't seem to mind fully answering any question I asked. I had no hint she was lying about her past. Her personality and her stories about her past meshed, and I could easily see her doing everything she claimed she'd done.

That left the big unknown. If she wasn't lying about her past, and she was as smart, strong, and independent as she appeared to be, I didn't know what was left. Nothing I came up with that was a deal breaker fit her. She clearly wasn't addicted to drugs or alcohol. She seemed to live comfortably, if not extravagantly. She was always upbeat and positive and wasn't given to mood swings or other emotional issues that I could detect.

I swung the maul again as my mind worked the problem over. What else could be a deal breaker? Sleeping around, obviously, but why would she sign up with Brooklyn if she was still playing the field? While there was no easy way for her to take another lover with me around all the time, she seemed eager to have a tumble any time I wanted. I smiled as the maul flashed down again, splitting another piece of wood in two. More than that, she initiated our intimate encounters as often as I did and seemed to enjoy our erotic contests.

So what was she holding back? I couldn't imagine. She'd expressed dismay early on that I might think she was a whore, but I made it as clear as I possibly could that I didn't care about her past lovers, and she didn't strike me as the type of woman who was shy about her sexuality.

"Are you coming?" Sage asked as she approached, her voice capturing my attention.

I forced my face into seriousness. "I don't mind splitting wood, but I don't like it that much."

"Not that!" she replied with a snicker. "That'll be later, when I help you with your wood. It's time for our walk."

Despite the fact it was almost freezing, I was sweating. I wiped my face on the sleeve of my shirt. "Yeah. Give me a second," I said as I bent and picked up one of the half pieces and plunked it on the splitting platform.

I swung the maul with some extra force and two pieces of wood fell away. I didn't smile, but it pleased me that since she was watching I looked like I knew what I was doing. I repeated the performance with the other half and stacked the four pieces on the pile.

"I could get used to this."

"What?" I asked.

"Watching you split wood. It's kind of sexy." She paused and smiled. "Is it too cold for you to take your shirt off and do it?"

I thought for a moment and began slowly unbuttoning my shirt as I smiled. I liked how her smile changed and her eyes widened slightly. "I thought you were a city girl," I replied as I shrugged out of my shirt and tossed it on the wood pile. There was a real bite in the air with my shirt off, but I could stand it for a short while. "I didn't think you'd like watching some guy split wood," I said as I picked up a full log and placed it on the stump for splitting.

"I don't want to watch some guy split wood, but I'll damn sure watch you do it, especially with your shirt off."

I jerked the maul out of the stump, gave it a spin like a baseball player would a bat for a little razzmatazz, and put my back into the swing, determined to cleave the log in a single blow. The log split, falling to either side of the stump. Without looking at her, not wanting her to know I was trying to impress her, I strained to one-hand one of the halves onto stump and swung again. After the pieces fell away, I split the other half, and then muscled another full piece onto the platform to start again. When I had eight pieces of wood at my feet, I paused, picked them up, and added them to the pile.

"You had enough, or do you want some more?" I rumbled, putting as much sex into my voice as possible.

She held my gaze for a moment. "That's probably enough. If I watch much more, you'll have to take off more than your shirt."

"You sure?" I asked in the same voice. "I can keep this up all day."

She groaned softly, her face twisting into a parody of erotic distress. "And all night, I hope. But yeah, I guess that's enough."

"Good, because I'm freezing my ass off!" I cried in my normal voice as I snatched my shirt off the wood pile and jerked it on, causing her to snicker.

Once I had my shirt and coat on, I put the gloves and maul in the shed where I'd found them and locked the door. With my hand on my hip, I stuck my arm out and she ran her arm through the triangle. Since we were already at the back of the lot, we started our walk next to the lake.

"You liked your show?" I asked as we strolled.

"God, yes. If it'd been summer, and you'd gotten all sweaty, after watching you do a dozen or so of those, we'd have definitely ended up on the ground as you split me with your wood."

I chuckled. "Is that all you think about?"

She smiled as she leaned heavier on my arm. "No, but I'm thinking about it a lot more than normal because you're around."

"That's all I am to you, isn't it? A boy toy."

She glanced at me. "What do you expect, performing an X-rated show like that."

"Right," I drawled out.

"No really. That was sexy as hell."

"Why Sage Piper, you're turning into a regular country girl," I replied, slathering on the North Carolina accent.

She snickered. "Hardly. Have you ever seen those calendars with the sexy men?"

I pretended to think. "I can't say I've paid much attention to them, no."

"Yes, well, my favorites are the ones that have dirty, sweaty guys on them. You know, the ones where the guys are dressed as firefighters, mechanics, farmers, things like that. I don't know what it is, but a good-looking guy, all hot and dirty from a hard day's work, is so fucking sexy."

"You know those guys are all models, right?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "Of course I know that, but a girl can dream, can't she? Besides, you could easily be Mr. November, and you were splitting wood. I'm telling you, there isn't a woman alive who'd disagree with me that watching you split wood with your shirt off is hot as shit."

"You keep talking like that and you're going to give me a big head."

She spluttered. "You? You're rich, hot as hell, and a masterful lover. By all rights, you should be an insufferable asshole, but you're not. You're about the most down to earth person I know, especially considering you're rich, hot as hell, and a masterful lover."

"Don't forget funny and modest."

She giggled. "And funny."

"Not modest?"

"The way you parade around in front of me naked? I'd hardly call that modest. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"I could say the same about you."

"Yeah, but am I funny, rich, hot as hell, and a masterful lover?"

"I think so."

She sniffed. "Well, three out of four isn't bad, I guess."

"What are you missing?"

She looked at me in teasing annoyance. "Rich?"

"You live in a nice apartment. You drive a new-ish BMW. You have nice clothes. You're certainly not poor."

"No, but I'm not you, am I?"

"Maybe not, but I've told you before, money isn't everything."

"So you tell me."

"You don't believe me?"

"I do, but..."

"But what?" I asked when she didn't continue.

"Nothing."

"No, come on, say what you were going to say. But what?"

"It's nothing, really. I don't need billions, but I wouldn't mind a few million."

"It's just money. As the Beatles said, it 'Can't Buy Me Love.'"

"I bet it makes being miserable easier to tolerate, though." I rolled my eyes. "I understand what you're saying, but it sure must be nice to not have to worry about your future, and to work because you want to, not because you have to."

"You know what? I'd trade all that to have someone to share my life with."

"Sure you would," she said, drawing the sentence out, her disbelief clear in her tone. Once again I sensed that edge, that feeling I couldn't put my finger on that made me think she was hiding something.

I pulled her to a stop. "I know you don't believe me, but I would. I wouldn't want to be poor, to have worry about having to choose between paying my rent and putting food on my table, but on your salary? I don't know how much you make, but you're clearly not starving. So yes, I'd rather have a family, someone to love and someone who loved me in return, than money. I can always earn money, but nothing I do can earn me love. That's something you can't buy. Love can only be given."

She held my gaze for a long moment. "You know, I think you would."

"I absolutely would. If you don't mind my asking, how much did you make last year?"

She continued to hold my gaze. "I'm still getting started, but about eighty thousand."

I nodded. "That's probably not a lot in Chicago, but—"

"Trust me, it's not," she said, speaking over me.

"Maybe not, but I'd much rather earn eighty thousand a year and come home to someone than to make whatever I make and come home to an empty house."

"You don't even know how much you make?"

I shrugged. "Depends on what the stock does. I draw a salary of $250,000 a year, with the rest in stock options." I held her gaze. "So yeah, I'm rich on paper, and I can always sell some stock if I want something, but my actual spending money income isn't that much higher than yours. Would I take a fifty percent pay cut to have someone in my life? In a heartbeat."

"But it's not really the same, is it? You'd still have your stock."

"Fine. I'd give up the stock too."

She shook her head as her lips thinned in annoyance. "Why would you do that?"