Read QuarterLifeFling Online

Authors: Clare Murray

QuarterLifeFling

Quarter-Life Fling

Clare
Murray

 

Single and with a quarter-life crisis looming, Alanna
impulsively books into a New Age retreat. In addition to meditation and hot tubs,
she finds Jude, a hot landscaper who promises a four-night stand she’ll never
forget. Glow-in-the-dark condoms, sensual motorcycle rides and sex in the
computer room are things she missed out on in college. Now that she’s
experienced them, she wants more. But do she and Jude have a future together?

 

A
Romantica®
contemporary new adult erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

Quarter-Life Fling
Clare Murray

 

Chapter One

 

I couldn’t believe I was doing this on my own. I eased the
BMW down the dirt road, keeping my eyes peeled for a nudist welcoming committee
or rogue shamans. It was tempting to turn around and blaze out of here, hit the
highway back to Silicon Valley and pretend I was just out for a long scenic
drive.

Charlotte would kill me if I did that. We’d promised each
other we would check into the Daydream Retreat for few days, take some time
off, lose some weight, meditate, all that jazz. It was supposed to be a hippie-type
place with crystals and hot tubs, which sounded fun…at the time.

“We’re adults, Alanna,” my best friend had said, slurring a
bit after her fourth beer. “We graduated, baby! We’ve got nine-to-fives and the
next step is to embrace our quarter-life crisis.”

Crisis? More like quarter-life slump.

“Have another beer,” Charlotte had said when I’d questioned
her about the exact definition of quarter-life. “We’re close enough to
twenty-five. Mid-life crisis has a huge age window, so why can’t we start ours
right after graduation?”

I’d made the move from college student to adult—on paper, at
least. I had an apartment and a plush new job at a software startup that paid
really
well. But not even six months into the job and my parents were making noises
about
finding Mr. Right
and asking way too many pointed questions about
my love life, or lack thereof.

So I’d bitten the bullet and checked into a wellness
retreat. Only to find out this morning that Charlotte had mumps. Of all
illnesses, she had to go get something serious. I didn’t have the heart to
argue over the phone when she insisted I still go to Daydream, especially when
she sounded so pathetic. That’s why I was driving down this stupid dirt road
right now. Besides, my boss was cool with my taking some time off as long as I
replied to urgent emails and did a bit of coding on the side.

Just when I thought maybe I’d taken the wrong turn, I
finally drove into the parking lot. There were not one, but two flower-covered
camper vans and a couple of motorcycles, both with sidecars. Groaning, I parked
as far away from everyone as I could.

I cut the engine before I could wuss out of the whole thing.
Going to Daydream had been Charlotte’s plan, so I had no clue what went on
here, apart from a vague idea of meditation and hot tubs and log cabins. We’d
been pretty drunk when we booked.

I scoped the place out. There was a gardener leaning on a
shovel at the end of the parking lot, shirtless and staring at my car. I stared
back through the double protection of tinted windows and oversized sunglasses.
Damn
,
he was ripped. Of course, he probably got a ton of exercise in this place with
all its high-maintenance greenery and varied plants. Hell, keeping grass green
in this part of California was probably a full-time job in itself.

The guy’s six-pack contracted as he shifted position,
checking something off on a clipboard. He looked up again as I got out of the
car to begin getting my stuff out of the trunk. A year or two ago I might have
flattered myself, thinking he was looking at me. But I was no fool. Dude was
checking out my car, not my slightly-too-big ass.

No matter, I’d be in a cabin soon, enjoying air conditioning
and WiFi. I could treat this place like working from home…with worse food,
probably.

Laptop, check. Headphones, iPod, new smartphone, emergency
stash of chocolate, check. I was good to go.

I stole a casual look over my shoulder as I made my way
toward the front office. Yeah, he was totally looking my way. I drew myself up
a little taller, sucked in my stomach, kind of wishing he was still looking at
my car. I was almost relieved when I got inside and away from his intense gaze.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist piped. Petite,
gray-haired and practically glowing from exuberance and health, she glanced up
from her computer with a bright smile.

“Yeah, uh, I booked in a few weeks ago.”
On a drunken,
peer-pressured whim
. “I was supposed to be here with my friend but she had
to cancel. Name’s Alanna Shelby.”

“Yes, I have you right here.” She tapped the keyboard,
typing painfully slowly with her two index fingers. I winced and looked away.

“Okay,” she said after like five minutes. “We’re going to
need your credit card too.”

I handed it over, mentally preparing for another long wait.
“Is it a long walk to my cabin?”

She typed. Slowly. “You’re in number seven. It’s just over
the footbridge past the crystal garden. Less than ten minutes’ walk.”

“Thanks.” I picked up my stuff, but she cleared her throat.

“Miss Shelby? We’ll need to take that laptop. And your phone
too.”

“What?” The word burst out of me before I could stop it. I
probably had ten emails to respond to by now. And my boss really wanted me to
put in some time on the latest app our company was developing…

“You did read the Terms and Conditions on our website,
didn’t you?” The receptionist gave me a semi-apologetic smile. “Personal phone
calls can be made from your landline. You can check your email from the
communal computer near the dining room. The Daydream Retreat strives to
distance the individual from the material world, granting them a full reprieve
from—”

“Okay, here’s my laptop. And my phone.” I gritted my teeth
as I handed them over. “Do you need my iPod too?”

“No, that you can keep. We have complimentary meditation
music available if you would like us to load it onto your device.”

“No, I’m good without, thanks.” I really didn’t want to
stand through another marketing lecture, so I grabbed my bags and sidled toward
the door. “See you later.”

“Dinner is at six thirty,” she called after me, her voice
far too cheerful. “There are a few other younger people here you can sit next
to.”

“Cool. Yeah.” I closed the door behind me. Other “younger
people”? I really didn’t know what to think about that. One thing was for sure,
without my laptop to keep me distracted, I was going to plan some real revenge
on Charlotte for getting me into this.

First things first. I needed to walk past that sexy
gardener. He was still shirtless, still just as muscular. My mouth went a
little dry. Should I say hello? Or should I play it cool, maybe give him a
little Mona Lisa smile or something?

I’d barely settled on the latter when he spoke first. “Good
afternoon.”

His voice was deeper than I’d expected, his hazel eyes more
intense. He looked as if he was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, so
older than me but nothing crazy. And no wedding ring. Not that I was checking
or anything.

“Uh, hey.” I stopped, not sure whether to continue or not.
My body wasn’t exactly obeying me the way it should.

“That’s a really nice car you drive.”

I deflated. Shit, he really had been checking out my wheels
and not me. I felt pretty stupid. It’s not that I can’t deal with men—working
in software, I hold my own with them every day. But that was business and this
was personal. At work, I’m respected because I can out-code half the guys and
multitask with the best of them. Men don’t care that I’m geeky and plump
because frankly, it doesn’t matter. Behind a computer screen I’m equal or
better, and even if they initially smirk, they learn to respect me.

On a personal level…well, my last date had been like six
months ago and I’d chosen some real losers as boyfriends. I didn’t do men on a
personal level. Not anymore.

“What’s the mileage?”

Case in point. I’d been standing there like a landed fish as
he complimented my car. Talk about making a good impression.

“There’s less than a thousand miles on it. I work from home
a lot.”

“Really? I think that means you should go on a road trip.”
He grinned and part of me melted. Even if I couldn’t have him, I could
appreciate his hotness.

“I’ve always wanted to, but finding the time is difficult.
Besides, going alone seems kind of dumb.”

“I’d go with you.”

Was he being flippant or was he just lusting after my car? I
laughed nervously. “Any destination in particular?”

“Florida Keys. Then up the coast to New York City. Maybe
visit Niagara Falls. Then into Colorado via a scenic route.”

“Sounds good to me.” I was smiling just thinking about a
trip like that. With him along, it would be nothing short of amazing.

“It’s a date, then. I’ll call you.”

I shored up my drooping smile.
He’s joking, genius
.
“Can’t. They take away your phone when you check in here.”

“Well, what cabin are you in?” He shifted his clipboard from
one hand to the other, reaching for the pencil behind his ear. His closely
cropped dark hair was thick and straight, gelled slightly at the top. I really
wanted to run my fingers through it, muss it up a little bit.

I clenched my hands tighter around my suitcase. “Number
seven.”

Was he writing that down? His pencil scraped briefly against
the paper, and I forced myself to let go of the bag before I accidentally
snapped the handle.

“All right. My name’s Jude, by the way.” He tucked the
pencil away. I got a whiff of aftershave and my knees went a bit weak.

“I’m Alanna. Nice to meet you.” My voice came out fainter
than normal. I waved and set off again…only to come back a second later to pick
up my bag. “Have a, um, good afternoon.”

“You too.” Thank all that was holy, Jude made no reference
to my awkwardness. If only I could communicate with him through text. I’d come
across so much better. Instead, I’d portrayed myself as a stuttering,
ever-so-slightly incompetent chatterbox.

I hurried up, heading toward the footbridge in the distance
and the temporary refuge of my cabin.

* * * * *

Jude watched the woman go, wishing he could walk with her.
Although her car had been what first caught his attention, Alanna herself kept
him captivated. Maybe it was lust at first sight, but the feeling hit hard.
He’d kept his eyes off her gorgeous rack out of respect, but as she walked away
he checked out her ass unashamedly.

Funny, he hadn’t expected to see such a
normal
-looking
woman here. He had taken on a contract to improve the retreat’s landscaping,
and from what he’d read, the place probably attracted women who were…well, not
exactly his type. Then Alanna had opened her car door and proven him one
hundred percent wrong.

Her red-brown hair, shoulder-length and slightly curly, hung
tantalizingly loose, daring him to reach out and tidy up wayward strands. He
couldn’t see her eyes behind those oversized sunglasses, and it had taken a lot
of self-control not to lift them up and peek. If he’d done that, he would have
had to run his hands across her curvy body as well…

“Everything okay?” Jude’s foreman came up, glancing at the
clipboard. “Got the location for the pond yet?”

“Yeah, all set. They want it near the path, so I’ve mapped
out the most promising spot.” Jude tucked the pencil behind his ear again. “You
know, I think I’ll pitch in myself. Been a while since I was able to work
outside.”

“Sure, boss. This kind of work tones you better than gym
stuff, anyway. I’ll start unloading the stuff from the truck.”

The other man sauntered off, and Jude looked after Alanna’s
retreating form. There was no way in
hell
he could go back to his boring
office with a woman like her dangling in front of him. She’d been the perfect
combination of confidence and sweetness all wrapped up in a lusciously curvy
body that he longed to undress.

A road trip with her? He’d settle for a tryst among newly
planted rhododendrons.

* * * * *

I dropped my bags and looked around the small cabin. The
place was comfortable but I resented the lack of WiFi. There was a kitchenette,
a surprisingly luxurious bathroom with a large Jacuzzi, and the bed was
king-size. Too bad I wouldn’t be sharing it with anyone.

I sighed, remembering Jude’s good looks. It had been really
nice of him to chat with me. How long had it been since I’d had a non-work
conversation with a guy? Probably not since that ill-fated blind date Charlotte
had set up for me.

That dude had been geeky as hell (which wasn’t a problem,
except he wore an actual, honest-to-God
pocket protector
) and all he
wanted to do was talk about console games and make out. Awkwardly.

I’d dumped him after the second date. I’m cool with gaming,
but I prioritize dinner-and-a-movie over shooting aliens. Besides, I played
better than him and he was a sore loser. If he got so butt-hurt over a stupid
console game, what would he be like down the line if we decided to have kids or
something?

Resisting the urge to flop down onto the couch, I wandered
around the cabin. Email withdrawal was starting to hit hard. My fingers itched
to type something—anything—whether it was a text or the beginning of a new
software program. I’d settle for playing Farmville at this point. Watering
virtual crops had to be better than this.

A sheet of laminated paper atop the table suggested I go for
a walk around the grounds to familiarize myself with my new surroundings. A
pasted-on addendum apologized for the landscaping work in progress, chirpily
adding that most features, such as the crystal garden, would be open as usual.

Crystal garden? I snorted. What was that? Intrigued despite
my initial skepticism of the retreat, I grabbed my sunglasses and left the
cabin, tucking the brochure-with-a-map into my pocket in case I got lost. The
retreat was huge, three hundred acres or so bordered by hills, trees and, on
one side, the highway leading home.

No, I wasn’t going to think about going home. Wasn’t
Daydream all about developing a positive outlook? Well, I could fake it ’til I
made it. I was certainly used to that. The faking it, not the making it, that
is.

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