Chapter Four

Jett entered the lodge at six-thirty, halfway between the six and seven time frame she’d given Griffin. It had been a hard few hours for her since she’d learned the truth about why she was at Tres Lobos. She’d picked up the phone several times to give Stan a piece of her mind and to, as her grandmother would have said, “Tell him to kiss you where the sun doesn’t shine.”

Besides, she decided it would be best if he were pacing his office, wondering if she’d fall for Griffin, if there had been an attraction between them, if there was a chance his plan would work. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

The front desk was empty, and she wondered who worked as the night clerk, or if there was one. Her curiosity led her to the desk where she found a placard that announced there were no vacancies, and if a guest needed something they should dial zero from their cabin phone, or the given number from their cell.

“Everyone is checked in for the night.” Jett turned toward Griffin’s voice. “If guests need anything we do have a small staff that works until ten that can deliver items if necessary. Or the gate is open and they can come and go as they please.”

“The guests over here,” Jett said. “What about the ones on the other side of the road?”

“You mean Tres Lobos West? No,” he answered. “We want to keep them as separate as possible.”

“We?” she asked.

Griffin’s mouth curled into a half smile, and then he pointed behind her. “Our table is ready, and I took the liberty of ordering for us. Like I said, the best Mexican food in the area.”

“Lead the way,” Jett said.

“Ladies first,” Griffin countered. “The dining hall is full except for one table, and that is ours.”

So Jett led the way, crossing through the main room of the lodge into the dining hall where families ate and drank. There was laughter and conversation, and the feel of the room, decorated in blue and tan with what looked like Native American artifacts, was calming.

“It’s beautiful,” Jett said once they were seated. “Did you find the artifacts on this land, or buy them?”

“Everything here is a replica,” Griffin said once he sat down. “If we find any actual artifacts we give them to federal officials in Santa Fe. They don’t belong to us, despite being found on our land.”

“You keep saying we,” Jett said. She reached for her water glass and took a sip. Cool, clear natural water. It was delicious.

“Myself and my brothers,” he said.

“Two of them, hence Tres Lobos.”

Griffin nodded before he picked up his glass and drained it.

“Do they live here?”

“One is an artist and lives in Taos,” he said. “The other breeds horses on a ranch near Taos.”

“But you all own a stake in Tres Lobos,” she said. “Do they know about Tres Lobos West?”

Griffin chuckled. “They use the facility often with the lady of their choice.”

Jett couldn’t help but smile. A young woman appeared at their table with a tray in hand. She set a bowl of tortilla chips, several cups of various shades of salsa, and a large bowl of white queso on the table.

“How would you like your enchiladas?” she asked Jett.

“Christmas, please,” Jett replied.

“Great choice,” the waitress said. “Can I get you something else to drink besides water?”

“A margarita, frozen, no salt,” Jett said.

Griffin ordered a beer, and Jett noticed the waitress did not ask him about his sauce preference.

When she was gone, Griffin said, “A true New Mexican, ordering both red and green sauce.”

“Born and raised in Roswell,” she said.

“See any little green men there?”

She rather loved the smile on his face when he asked. “Only on the anniversary of the so called crash.”

“You don’t believe in aliens?” he asked.

“Never seen one,” she said. She dipped a chip in the queso. “Yum,” she said after she’d crunched down on it. “Delicious.”

“We have the best chef in the area,” he said. “Her name is Celeste. She and her husband, Tricky, live on property. He’s a sheriff’s deputy and works security for us when necessary.”

The waitress appeared with her margarita, and a beer for Griffin. “Food will be out shortly.”

When she was gone, Jett said, “Do you have many problems here? Is that why you need an officer on site?”

“No, we don’t,” he said. “But I like knowing he’s here.”

“Especially with people like your nutty neighbor running around. You live here, too?”

He shrugged. “I have a cabin close by.”

“Does that mean you can help guard against your nutty neighbor?”

He didn’t smile, and Jett knew she’d struck a chord. Perhaps it was time to change the subject. “So, did you grow up around here? Is that why you and your brothers picked the magic circle for your resort?”

“We grew up in Taos,” he said. “Mom was an artist, and Dad was a policeman. They’re both retired now, and they have a ranch up near the Colorado border. They raise horses and savor the good life.”

“Sounds idyllic,” she said.

The waitress appeared at that moment and set plates in front of them. Enchiladas with red and green sauce, black beans, rice, and a salad. It was a traditional meal, and when Jett dipped her fork into the sauce, first the red and then the green, and took a bite, she rolled her eyes in pleasure.

“That is incredible,” she said.

“Told you.” He stopped talking and started to eat. Jett followed suit. She loved Mexican food, and this was the best she’d ever had. She was halfway through her second enchilada when he tapped his fork against his plate.

“Don’t fill up,” he said. “I know Celeste, and she’s either made flan or tres leches cake, and she’ll be offended if we don’t eat it.”

“Won’t she be offended if we leave part of our supper?”

He shook his head as he chewed. “You can take your leftovers back to your cabin. But, according to Celeste, no meal is complete without something sweet at the end.”

“Does she cook like this all the time?”

“She does.” Jett noticed Griffin wasn’t following his own advice. He was eating every bite of food on his plate, and also crunching on the tortilla chips dipped in the queso. He drained his beer, but when the waitress came back he ordered iced tea for himself. Jett wasn’t done with her drink, so she declined anything more to drink.

When she was gone she said, “So Celeste’s specialty is Mexican food?”

“She fixes different foods for different nights,” he said. “The locals come out for Italian night, and she makes the best damn shepherd’s pie I’ve ever had. Plus, she makes a German chocolate cake that will make your eyes roll. She makes one for my birthday every year.”

He finished his plate and pushed it aside. The waitress appeared immediately and picked it up.

“We have flan, and cake,” she said. “Which would you like?” She shifted her gaze to Jett, but it was Griffin who said, “Bring a bit of both.”

When she was gone, Jett put down her fork. “I’m going to have to stop eating or you’ll have to roll me to my cabin.”

“Don’t worry, your spanking will help work off some of the calories we’ve eaten tonight.” He picked up his iced tea and held it out as if offering a toast. “It is spanking night, isn’t it?”

The waitress appeared before Jett could answer. She set down two large plates, one with two servings of creamy flan, and the other with cake with white dressing topped with strawberries.

Jett could feel the heat rising in her, spreading to her face, making her body tingle, and not in a good way.

The waitress smiled and left.

“Holy crap on a cracker,” she said. “He told you everything, didn’t he?”

“Now would your grandmother approve of that phrase?”

Jett opened her mouth, and then closed it. “What did he tell you, exactly?”

“Well, I know you’ve hit a dry spell in the sex department, as has Stan.”

Jett grasped her napkin off her lap, crumpled it into ball and threw it on the table. “Oh cheese and rice.” She stood. “I’m leaving.”

“Going back on your word to help me?”

“I didn’t give you my word.” She glared at him, but she didn’t move toward the door. Her gaze dropped to the sweets that had just been delivered to the table. They looked delectable. She hadn’t had flan for ages, and this seemed to be the best she’d ever seen.

“Sit back down,” Griffin said. He looked around the room and then back up at her. The dining room was still full. When people left the tables were bussed, and new guests took the place of those leaving. She sat back down even though she told herself it was just to figure out exactly what Stan had said to the man sitting across from her.

“I hate that you two talked about me.” She picked up her spoon and made a huge dip in the flan. She put the creamy treat in her mouth, savoring the caramel taste as she swirled it in her mouth. “Oh my,” she murmured.

“Told you it was good,” he said. He helped himself to a bite of the cake.

“So did you two enjoy talking about me?” she asked before she took another bite of flan.

“Immensely,” he said. He moved his spoon toward the flan and she smacked his utensil with hers. The clink of silver against silver made her smile.

“That’s mine.”

“Don’t like to share?”

She filled her spoon with flan and stuffed it in her mouth. She didn’t care if it made her look like she had no manners. She wasn’t giving up any of the dessert.

“Mace, more flan, please,” Griffin called out.

Jett moved the plate toward her.

“So, are you going to tell me what the two of you talked about?” She twirled her empty spoon in her hand before she dipped it back into the treat.

“Tell me, have you ever set a friend up on a blind date?”

Mace returned with another plate, with larger helpings of the desserts. “You’ve made Celeste very happy,” she said with a giggle.

“Tell her I said bravo,” Griffin said.

“Me, too,” Jett said around a bite of the tres leches cake. “If I stay here too long I’ll go up a pants size.”

Mace giggled again and left.

“Now, back to the question,” Griffin said. “When you set someone up on a date, what did you tell them about your friend?”

Jett felt a little of the anger she’d felt seep out of her. She had to give him credit for telling her the truth about why she’d been sent to Tres Lobos.

“Well, you usually start with what the person looks like.” She glanced at him with her spoon partway to her mouth. “Did he tell you I was heavy?”

“I believe the word he used was curvy,” Griffin said. “I like curvy women. They have big, beautiful breasts and a bottom that’s just perfect for tonight’s activities.”

“For eating?” she asked. “Would you eat a bottom with ketchup? Or mustard?”

Griffin chuckled. “I believe you know what I mean. And for the record, I prefer both a mixture of the two. Spread it around the meat, take a big old bite out of the—bun.”

Jett’s mouth dropped open. She closed it without responding. Too late she realized she’d given him an in – a big in – to dirty talk. This could get bad, fast. Just the way he said bun made her nipples tingle, and she just wasn’t ready for this. She was still so upset about the situation she found herself in right now she didn’t want to think about sex, despite the Griffin-fueled fantasy that had heightened her orgasm that afternoon.

“I can’t believe he told you about our… arrangement.”

“Doms like to know the ladies they are meeting are – amenable – to the activities they enjoy. Some ladies don’t like to feel the strike of leather against their bare bottoms. You do.”

Jett looked around at their fellow diners. Griffin’s voice had been low, and despite her fear that someone had overheard him, no one was looking their way.

“I’m not sure the timing is right,” she whispered as she twirled her spoon in the cake.

“You let me worry about that,” he said.

“If you think I don’t want to upset Stan you’re so wrong.” She sat back in her chair and tried to fold her arms across her chest, but she still had a spoon in her hand, and it poked her in the boob. “Ouch.”

Griffin smirked at her. “Ouch? You’ll be saying much more than that in a few minutes.”

“If you think I’m going to let you spank me, you’re one can short of a six-pack.”

“Well, it is Friday night, which is spanking night, right?” They were both leaned so far forward that their faces were almost touching.

“Not for you.”

His eyes narrowed into tiny slits, and a shiver ran up her spine.

“You have thirty seconds to stand up, tell Mace thank you for the meal, and head toward my office.”

Jett couldn’t help but snort. “You expect to spank me here, in the lodge, with all these people around. When they hear you they can call your friend Tricky and you’ll end up behind bars.”

“You’re down to fifteen.” He looked at his watch. “If you don’t do as I say, I will, like a caveman, throw you over my shoulder and take you out of here my way.”

She was about to say, ‘You wouldn’t dare’, but decided not to push it. Because she was pretty sure he would.

“Don’t think you’ve won,” she said. “I just don’t want to make a scene. You’ve already done that once today with your nutty neighbor.”

Jett stood, and waved at Mace. “Tell Celeste I said thanks, and to you, too, for the service.”

She was out the door before she heard movement behind her. She was going to have to find a way not to let him spank her. Because if he did, she had a feeling she was going to be a goner in the ‘don’t you dare touch me’, department.