Page 74 of Lost Trust

“That good, huh?”

He nods. “Fucking incredible.”

“Really?” I raise an eyebrow. “I’ve lived this close to the resort my entire life and never stepped foot in it.”

“Me neither,” Cabe says. “Can you see us mingling with their fancy-ass guests?”

“You boys should try it sometime,” Bryce says.

“Why the hell would we?” I ask.

“Because women like it,” he says. “And sometimes, you have to leave your comfort zone to make them happy.”

“Fuck that,” Cabe says. “I’m good.”

I look at him. “You wanna be single for the rest of your life?”

“If I have to drop loads of cash at a pompous, overpriced hotel, yes,” he says. “A woman who needs that ain’t the one for me.”

Bryce laughs out loud. “Trust me, the right woman gets her hooks in you, and your country ass will be ordering room service at The Plaza in New York City if it makes her happy.”

Cabe shakes his head. “Never gonna happen.”

“Keep saying it out loud,” Bryce warns.

“What else did y’all do up there besides order room service?” I ask.

Bryce gives me a pointed look.

“Or that,” I quip.

He shrugs. “Relaxed. Ate. Slept. And got pampered,” he says.

Micah laughs. “You?”

“Yeah, me.”

Bryce points toward his shoulder. “They had red-light therapy. Salt room. Massage. Whole thing.” He rolls his shoulders, like he’s still impressed. “I swear, I felt like a million bucks when we left. Every muscle in my body was loose.”

Cabe looks at him and wags his eyebrows. “I bet it wasn’t the salt that got you loose.”

Bryce shakes his head. “Thinking I might have a red-light therapy and a salt room setup added at the academy. Be good for the instructors.”

Micah whistles. “Damn. You’re gonna spoil those cowboys.”

“Worth every penny,” he says. “If it helps keep everybody healthy.”

Cabe’s grin returns. “You mean soft.”

Bryce flips him off.

We carry the last piece of furniture into the master suite.

Then Bryce gestures toward the guest room. “That’s gonna be Ryder’s room. Charli measured everything and had Jovie’s dad draw up a design for a set of custom log-framed bunk beds,” Bryce says. “Materials should be here in a couple of days.”

We walk to the front of the cabin and he points to a drawing lying across the kitchen island. I study it.

“You building it yourself?” I ask.