Chapter 10 - Mara
I wake up to the familiar sounds of the hotel. The restaurant is open, and I can hear the pots and pans banging and the cooks calling out to each other. I used to hate being woken up to that sound when I was a teenager, but now it seems somewhat comforting.
It’s strange being back home. I lie in bed and take a deep breath, once again wondering how I came to be staying with my parents when I’m almost thirty years old. I try to push away the thoughts that are telling me that my life is falling apart, and to ignore the sense that I’ve moved backwards. My heart squeezes when I think of my failed marriage. I still feel like such a fool for thinking that Vincent cared about me.
I shake my head and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I take a deep breath.
I’m not moving backwards. I’m definitely moving forwards. Somehow, I’ve ended up back in my hometown in the heart of the mountains – but in a lot of ways it feels good. I’m away from Silicon Valley and all its fakery. I’m away from my fiancé and all his fakery.
When I stand up and stretch my arms overhead, my thoughts drift to Dominic Clarke. I’ve never noticed how deep his eyes are, or how he smells ever so slightly of pine. His workshop is incredible. All those half-finished pieces in the corner scream out raw talent.
I walk to the window and open the blinds, casting my eye over the peaks that surround Lang Creek. I lean against the window frame and stare out as my thoughts wander back to the workshop.
Would he ever take the job? I know it’s a big ask. I know that our two families have been at odds for over a decade. I know that he probably hates me in particular, for falling into the creek that day, and causing his father to get pneumonia. I know his brother Aiden hates me. That alone would be enough to refuse the work.
But still – would he ever take the job? It would be the biggest job he’s ever got, I have no doubt. It would set him up to be a supplier for a number of heritage properties. He’d be a fool not to take it.
I take a deep breath and shake my head. I already know that’s not true. Maybe on paper, it would be a great move – but in practice it would be different. He’d have to work closely with me, and with my parents. He’d have to come to the hotel every week – maybe even every day.
He’ll never take the job.
In my heart I know it’s true. He’s the man who burned down the luxury hotel before it was even built. The hotel would have put Lang Creek on the map. It would have brought a huge amount of people and business to the area.
If he cared about money, he wouldn’t have done that.
I take a breath and turn away from the window, trying to ignore the budding disappointment in the pit of my stomach. It’s not just the work. I’m disappointed that I won’t have an excuse to go to his workshop, and to brush my shoulder against his. I’m disappointed I won’t get to look into those deep brown eyes and steal glances at his chiseled body.
By the time I’ve showered, the sun is warming up the air outside. I can tell it’s going to be a gorgeous day, and I glance out the window of my room one more time.
If Dominic Clarke won’t build my furniture, I need to find someone who will. With a sigh, I resign myself to the idea of working with someone else. I'll have to atone to the Clarke brothers some other way.
I sweep my eyes around my room and try to find the stack of sketches that I drew. My stomach drops when I remember Dominic taking them from my hands at the workshop yesterday. He’s got all of them, even the concept sketches for the rooms.
The thought fills me with a simultaneous sense of excitement and dread. I want to see him again. Before I know it, I’m sliding the glass door at the back of my room open. My feet are taking me back down the road towards the workshop on the edge of town as my heart thumps in my chest.
The air is fresh. There’s a bounce in my step as I make my way across town. It’s still early, and the town is quiet. I don’t pass anyone on my way to Dominic’s place, and I’m silently grateful for it. Even going to see him feels like a rebellious move.
After only a few minutes, I’m turning down the long gravel drive that takes me into the edge of the forest. Even though Dominic’s cabin is in town, it still feels far removed from it. His house is tucked away at the end of a long driveway, surrounded by dense forest on all sides. I take a deep breath and inhale the fresh air one more time before the cabin and the workshop come into view.
I’m relieved to see the lights on in the workshop. He must be working already. I strain my ears to hear any sounds of tools or saws, but I hear nothing – nothing except my footsteps and the beating of my heart in my ears.
The big garage doors on the workshop are closed, but the small door beside them is open. Every step that takes me closer makes my heart beat a little bit faster.
Should I have come here? I know the answer to that. I’m basically harassing him at this point.
I take a deep breath and shake my head. I’m only here to get my sketches back. I already know he’ll refuse the job, so I can just be graceful and leave on good terms.
When I’m two steps away from the open doorway, my heart is hammering in my chest. I close the distance and turn into the workshop, pausing in the doorway and letting my eyes sweep across the big room.
Dominic sees me right away and stands up. He’s got a paint brush in his hand, and I can tell he’s working on the table in front of him. He’s wearing a white mask over his mouth and nose. He lifts the mask off his face and moves it onto his forehead as his eyes narrow.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” he replies. God, I love his voice.
I shift my weight from foot to foot and chew my lip. Suddenly I’m nervous, and I don’t know what to say. I take a step towards him almost involuntarily. It’s like something is pulling me towards him. My eyes are glued on his, and he stays completely still.
My voice catches when I try to speak, so I clear my throat and try again.
“I was just here to…” Before I can ask him about the sketches, my eyes flick to a huge piece of furniture behind him. It’s a headboard, and the curve of it reminds me of what I drew.
My eyebrows knit together and I take another step forward, sweeping my eyes over the headboard. Finally, I drag my eyes back to Dominic’s gaze and swallow before opening my mouth.
I take another couple steps towards him so that there’s only the half-finished table between us. I look at the headboard again, and I’m finally able to speak. My voice is hoarse, but I force out the words anyways.
“You made it,” I breathe. “You made my sketch.”
I make myself glance back at his face. His eyes are dark and unreadable. He’s staring at me with an intensity that I’ve never felt before. My whole body is sparking, and the pit of my stomach is on fire. I can feel the honey pooling between my legs as his eyes burn into mine.
I’m afraid to move, afraid to speak, afraid to breathe. All I do is just stand there and look at him until he finally breaks the spell between us and ever so slightly dips his chin.