The sky was already dark by mid-afternoon, and Jack sat in the reading chair in his bedroom study, trying to focus on Murder on the Mountain, Clyde Harrison’s most recent mystery novel. As always, Clyde’s stories were gripping, but all he could think about was Elizabeth and how she was so near.

So near and yet so far.

He’d slept restlessly the night before, imagining Elizabeth a stone’s throw away, sleeping in the cabin he’d built, in a bed he’d bought, snuggled beneath a quilt he’d chosen. He was used to people sleeping in his cabins, of course—during the busy tourist season, all five were rented out almost every night. But that was nowhere near the same thing as having Elizabeth staying there.

In the end, Jack had poured himself a generous glass of brandy and turned the furnace up a couple degrees, the alcohol and warmth producing a somnolent effect.

Since morning, he’d kept a loose eye on her movements. Happened to notice when she went over for her first caregiving shift with Charlene. Happened to notice when she came back and let out Rugby, her funny little dog, who ran back and forth in the snow for no good reason. Happened to notice when her cabin lights went on. It had been a day of noticing and trying not to. He’d kept himself busy during the day by going to the Crossfit gym for a two-hour-long workout and then grabbing dinner with Doc Bauer, but now he was home, trying valiantly not to think of her.

After reading the same paragraph three times, he told himself he’d just peek out his window and check to see if her lights were off yet, and then he’d close the curtains and get back to his book.

He looked out his bedroom window, which faced her one-room cabin. The cabin had two windows that faced his house and into which he had a good view from his bedroom, which was precisely why he’d made sure to put heavy curtains on both the cabin’s windows and his own.

But Elizabeth had her curtains open. He caught a glimpse of her sitting at the little kitchenette table writing in a notebook, twirling her hair around her index finger absentmindedly. He watched her for just a moment, his heart pounding. What was she thinking about? Writing about? Was she sad? Something about her seemed so, and that made him long to go to her and make her laugh. It didn’t take much to make her smile.

But if he went to her, he’d be tempted to touch her and kiss her and do all the things to her that he wanted to do.

Just friends, on the other hand, could call each other.

I’d better call her, he thought. Make sure she’s settled in all right and doesn’t need anything at the cabin. Make sure the faucet isn’t leaking or anything.

He grabbed his phone and scrolled through the contacts. Kristy Barrow had texted him Elizabeth’s number since she was staying in one of the cabins and it was policy to take all guests’ information.  

He pressed “Call” and watched through the window.

Elizabeth had her phone resting on the table, and he watched her answer it.

“Hello?”

“Elizabeth? It’s Jack.”

His heart thrilled when a smile crossed her face. To catch her in an unguarded moment felt like a gift from the gods.

“Jack! How are you?”

“Good, good.” He suddenly realized he should have planned what to say. “So, listen. I, uh, I wanted to let you know you might want to close your curtains. I have a view directly into the cabin from my bedroom.”

Smiling, she looked out her own window and then stood, moving directly in front of it. When she caught sight of him, she waved.

Damn it, she was adorable. The way she waved, so happy to see him, made his heart leap with longing.

He waved back.

“Thanks for telling me,” she said. “Most guys would have just watched me through the window.”

Jack felt himself harden at the thought of watching her unbeknownst. It could be a hell of a fantasy for him, but it would be a violation of her and something he’d never do in actuality.

“I’m not most guys.” His voice came across low and suggestive, but he hadn’t done it on purpose.

“I know you’re not.” Her voice was soft, and she felt close enough to touch. “You’re one of a kind, Jack.”

They fell into silence and simply watched each other. Jack yearned to be near her. Yearned to tuck her head into his chest and wrap his arms around her. It added an emotional wanting to the powerful lust for her that made his head spin, and the potent combination chipped away at his resistance.

And Elizabeth didn’t help matters.

“I think you owe me a drink,” she said, her smile rogue. She straightened her posture, angling her body so he could see the silhouette of her form. She was not a curvy woman, but paired with her tight jeans was a dark long-sleeved shirt that hugged her body. He was too far away to see if she was wearing a bra, but he imagined she wasn’t. He imagined her nipples hard and pushing against the fabric.

“A drink?” he said back.

“From that day I brought the brownies over. A brandy, I think it was,” she said. “You suggested we have a drink by the fire.”

Yes, Jack thought. A drink by the fire, maybe two.

He’d love to taste the brandy on her lips.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.

“Why not?’

“Because one thing would lead to another.”

She put a hand on her slender hip. “And how is that a bad thing?”

Her look penetrated him as if she was seeing him naked. His erection throbbed at the thought of standing before her in such a way. Of her looking him over approvingly. Of her running her hands across his chest. Of her dropping to her knees before him and taking his swollen cock in her mouth.

Jack’s mouth was dry. He could hardly reply. “I told you—”

“Don’t be afraid of me.” Her voice was light and inviting. “You don’t need to hold back with me.”

I’m holding back how hard I’ve already fallen for you, he thought. I’m trying like hell to un-fall for you, and you’re not making it easy.

“Remember, we talked about this. Work, et cetera.”

“No one has to know. It’s really no one else’s business.”

“I hate secrets,” Jack said. “Secrets can destroy a person.”

“And I hate letting an opportunity pass me by.” She looked up at him, more sad than seductive. “I’ve done that too much in my life. But now I know that when you see something good, you have to reach out and take it.”

“Elizabeth …” I want to take you, he thought. You’re my good thing. And if only I could give you back all the years your family suffered because of my father’s actions and my own silence.

“Tell me that we couldn’t have a good thing, Jack.”

He couldn’t. He’d never wanted a woman more and never deserved her less, than this marvelous, tiny, beautiful creature looking up at him from across a snowy field.

“I should go,” he said. He leaned his head against the window. Although it was triple-paned, he could still feel the below-freezing chill when his forehead touched the glass. “Are you warm enough in there?” he asked her softly.

“I’m warm enough … In fact, I’m so warm I might have to take off some of my clothing.”

He nearly groaned with frustration. Damn, Elizabeth. You sure know how to turn a guy on.

He had to shut this down before he lost all control.

“Make sure to close your curtains, then,” he said.

She shook her head. “That’s the thing, Jack. I don’t want to close my curtains. I want you to get a glimpse of what you’re missing.”

Jack’s imagination leaped ahead to the visual feast of what her words implied. “Trust me, Elizabeth—I know what I’m missing.”  

“No, you don’t.” She put her hand on one hip, pouting. Or taunting. “If you did, you wouldn’t be missing it.”

He grinned, liking her confidence. “Is that right?”

She grinned back. “That’s right. You’re just too much of a gentleman for your own good. Are you sure you won’t invite me over for that brandy, Jack?”

If she were anyone else, it would happen in a heartbeat. But she wasn’t anyone else. She was Elizabeth Armstrong, and he owed her a decency he hadn’t been able to offer when he was younger. He couldn’t lead her on because if she ever learned the truth about him, she’d hate him forever. He had to respect what would be her wishes, even without her knowing why.  

“I’d better not,” he said.

She shrugged, a slight, perky move of her shoulders. “Then take a peek over here in a few minutes, Jack. Maybe I’ll open my curtains just for you.”

With that, she ended the call and drew her curtains closed. Jack turned, stepped away from the window, and sank his head into his hands, his lust replaced by a bottomless regret. He cursed everything that had happened in his life that led him to this moment of wanting a woman so much it was a physical ache—and yet knowing he could never have her.

* * *

After hanging up with Jack, Elizabeth poured herself a shot from the bottle of Jack Daniels she’d found in one of the kitchen cabinets.

Liquid courage.

She’d come up with the idea to entice Jack by being in various states of undress in front of the window. That’s why she’d left her curtains open that night, to ease into it. To titillate him. To tease him, and then to put on a show in which she was the allegedly unwitting star. Every guy’s fantasy, right? Only Jack was too decent to let her get away with it.

Which was good, in the long run. It meant he respected her and wouldn’t take advantage of her. It meant he could be trusted.

It also meant he now knew that whatever she did, she was doing on purpose. She couldn’t help but feel a little slutty, as well as embarrassed about being willing to be a bit slutty. In truth, she was also turned on by the idea.

But she needed liquid courage. More liquid courage.

She did a second shot of Jack Daniels and then went to her dresser and got out the one and only set of actual lingerie she owned: an elegant, embellished black lace bra that showed more skin than it concealed and a matching cheeky panty that hugged over the line of her hips and showed an alluring flash of her rear end. She changed into the outfit and added a button-down cardigan sweater over the top. Something casual. Something she could unbutton slowly.

It was all in the reveal, she knew. The reveal and the confidence she’d now be able to muster thanks to the alcohol. She did a quick refresh of her hair and makeup, and then she set out a bottle of body lotion on the kitchenette table. She staged it to look like a typical getting-ready-for-bed routine, but it was much more than that, and Elizabeth felt a thrill of adventure at what she was about to do.

Let the show begin, she thought, confident that Jack would still be in his bedroom and still have his curtains open.

But when she opened her own curtain again and looked up at Jack’s window, it was dark. Seconds later, she heard his garage door open and stared in shock as he drove off in his red Ford F-350.

Jack Barnes was running away from her and everything she had to offer.

Of course he’s trying to get away from me, she thought, as all of her insecurities kicked right in. He never wanted me here in the first place.

Humiliated, she undressed again, slipped into a pair of warm flannel pajamas, crawled into bed, curled into a fetal position, and began to cry.

She’d gone through tough breakups before. She’d felt the sting of rejection before. She’d even thought she’d been in love before.

But now she knew that she’d never been in love. Not until Jack. His soul spoke to hers in some tender, inexplicable way.

As the hot tears streamed down her face, Elizabeth thought how it didn’t make sense, how she barely knew the man, and yet somehow the sense of their mutual destiny was still there and growing stronger with every interaction she had with him.

Which made it even worse that she couldn’t have him. No matter what lame excuse he gave, she knew the real reason was that she came from a trashy family that had shamed the entire town. It was a fact that would never go away, even if her father did.

Maybe Nate Armstrong wasn’t the only one who needed a fresh start in a new place.

Maybe she did, too.