Becca

Monday Night

Thanks to plenty of sunshine, the puddles in cabin 13’s driveway have dried enough so I can park in front of the cabin instead of at the top of the hill. It’s a little after eight, nearly dark. There’s a pleasant nip in the air.

I knock on the door, then peer through the window beside it, watching Dax advance with a confident swagger.

The door swings aside, and instead of the frown he greeted me with when I was dripping on his welcome mat a few nights ago, he’s wearing a grin.

He leans one round shoulder against the doorframe and crosses one foot over the other ankle. A casual lean that looks one hundred percent natural on him.

“Hey, Princess.”

Not gonna lie, that melted my undies a li’l bit.

I dangle the keychain we originally swapped out. “The key to your castle.”

He continues leaning but holds out a palm. I drop the key into it.

“It’s ready for you when you are,” I announce over the symphony of frogs and crickets.

“Thanks.”

“Are you . . . going up there tonight?” I shove my hands into my back pockets, almost nervous.

“Plan on it.” He tips his head to the right and I notice his duffel packed and ready to go, along with a cooler I imagine is stocked with the contents of the fridge. “What about you?”

“What about me what?” My heart thuds at the question, with anticipation of what he might ask next.

“Where are you going tonight?” His lips quirk into an almost-but-not-quite smile. Is he going to ask me to join him? Do I want to join him? I can either tell him I’m super busy and have to get back to the office or make up a chore to do at my brother’s house. Or I can tell him the truth.

Since we don’t make a habit of lying to each other, I decide to tell Dax the truth.

“I was planning on grabbing dinner and then heading back to my own borrowed bed.” At the lift of his eyebrow, I mention something I haven’t mentioned yet. “I live with my brother, so my niece is sharing her bedroom with me.”

He nods. Slowly. What he doesn’t do is ask me out—or in. Well. It’s stupid not to ask if that’s what I want. I always ask for what I want.

“Unless . . .” I clear my throat. “Do you want to join me for dinner?”

His eyes go over my head to the road beyond. “Better not. I want to get settled in my new digs. Hit the sack early. I’m going fishing tomorrow.”

“Sounds relaxing.” He has to notice the disappointment in my voice.

“It does.”

Okay, now that I’ve been shot down, standing here is awkward.

“I’m going to go.” I point over my shoulder with my thumb. “Enjoy the rest of your stay, Mr. Vaughn.”

“Thanks, Princess. Have a safe trip home.”

I nod, turn, and walk to my car. Despite that I’m dying to turn around to check if Dax is watching me, I don’t. I drive away without a single look back, grab a bag of strangely satisfying fast food, and eat it in the car on my way home.

My sister-in-law, Lara, is coloring with my niece Kiera when I walk in. Tasha is nowhere to be seen, but then, my three-year-old niece is usually in bed by the time I return home anyway. Like her aunt, the girl loves her sleep.

“There she is. Survived the flood,” Lara says.

“Becca!” Kiera leaps off her chair and I’m wearing her like a second skin a moment later.

“Okay, Monkey.” I jokingly make a strangling sound before unlooping her arms from around my neck and setting her on her feet.

“Good news,” Lara says, still coloring. “I bought us a new king bed, so the queen is now in the sewing room. That means Kiera can have her bed and you can have your own.”

“Lara . . .”

She holds up a hand to stay my argument. “We needed a bed anyway.”

“I’ll never be able to repay you guys for all you’ve done. I’ll move out eventually, I promise.”

“I hope not soon.” Lara pauses to tell Kiera to go put her pajamas on so that Aunt Becca can read her a bedtime story. The bribe works, and fifteen minutes later, I emerge from Kiera’s bedroom with a tattered copy of Goodnight Moon.

“She’s out.”

“I figured it wouldn’t take long. She played hard today.”

“Ah, to be tired from playing hard,” I sigh.

“I like having you here.” Lara pours two glasses of white wine and continues her earlier thought as if we never broke stride. “I like having a babysitter on call. And I like when you force me to work out. You know how lazy I am.”

I snort and accept the wine, sitting down at the kitchen table with her. “You’re not lazy, Lara. You work all the time. Raising a family. Managing a household. It’s a lot.”

I only work full time and take care of myself, and it’s too much for me to manage some days. In my defense, I do pull my weight around here. I’m not a total leech. If I can sneak out to buy groceries or pay the cable bill before Tad grabs it, I do. Both Tad and Lara insist they don’t want anything in return except babysitting, but that doesn’t seem fair, since I’d hang out with my nieces for free.

I’m saving to move out, and they know it. The thing is, I’m not sure where my next home should be. Tennessee doesn’t feel like a permanent landing spot. But then again, I’ve never lived anywhere that felt permanent. New York didn’t. Virginia didn’t. Neither did Michigan. Or Ohio . . .

I think of Dax from Columbus. I wonder where he lives in Columbus. I wonder if I didn’t give Columbus a fair shake, if I could try living there again.

While dating a certain tall, hotter-than-Hades stripper look-alike.

Hmm . . .

“That was a hum of sheer bliss,” Lara points out before tipping her glass to her lips. After a hearty sip, she says, “I’m surprised you came back. Did your hot guest check out already?”

“No.” I grab a crayon and start filling in one of the pages Kiera was coloring when I walked in. Kiera has wisely colored the unicorn’s hair purple and the horn pink. I’m coloring the hooves gold, though Crayola’s gold needs some work—or some glitter. It’s more metallic brown than anything.

Lara starts shading in the clouds on the adjacent page. “I feel like there’s more to this story.”

“Not much more,” I announce with a token amount of misery. “He’s packing up now to relocate to cabin seven, which is the cabin he’d originally booked. I delivered the key to him tonight and I asked him out to dinner. He said he couldn’t.”

My smile is tight. I can feel it.

“Bec.” Sympathy curves Lara’s eyebrows. “What a jerk. I’m sorry, hon.” She rubs my shoulder. I’d love to get on the “jerk train” with her, but that’s unfair to Dax.

“It wasn’t like that.” When she gives me a Yeah, right head tilt, I add, “Honest. Dax is a really good guy.”

“He slept with you, stole your recipe, and now has no time for you?” Her expression changes from sympathetic to angry. “Sounds like bullshit.”

“Tad told you about the recipe.” Now I’m trying damn hard not to be angry with my bigmouthed brother. “It was a gift.”

“You know what?” Lara continues coloring. “Cut your losses. He’ll be gone soon and you won’t have to see him again. Ever.”

“Lara,” I say around a laugh. As much as I disagree, I appreciate her support. “He’s not like that. I’m . . . I think this is my fault. I made this rule not to discuss our pasts, not to get too personal. I’ve been the one running away. Sneaking out. Nothing about the way I’ve behaved suggested I wanted anything more. He’s probably cutting his losses.”

That was supposed to be a throwaway remark. I hate how true it felt.

“How much longer will he be in town?”

“He’s booked for two weeks.” If he doesn’t check out early like everyone else did, I mentally add.

“So what are you going to do?”

I regard her as if she asked me a complicated mathematical equation.

“Are you going to see him again?”

I shrug and try really hard to look nonchalant. “Probably. He has to come to the office to return the key before he leaves.”

Lara rolls her eyes.

“I know what you meant.” I spin my wineglass on the table, watching the golden liquid swirl rather than meet my sister-in-law’s assessing stare. “You’re asking if I’m brave enough to show up on his doorstep one more time?”

“Are you?”

I close my eyes and picture Dax, sure and strong, leaning against that doorframe, daring me with his eyes to invite myself in. I could have offered to make him dinner. I could have insisted on following him up to cabin 7. I could have offered to have him follow me under the guise of helping him find it okay.

I didn’t. I chickened out. I know it. He knows it.

“I could always mosey up there tomorrow and offer to make him breakfast.”

“You do make great pancakes.” Lara’s smile is approving. She’s the best. Just the best.

Dax is going fishing in the morning. This I know. I stab my bottom lip with my teeth, wondering what time people go fishing around here.

And what time they get back.

Tuesday Morning

It’s a glorious morning! Warm and sunny, but not hot and sticky. Very few clouds dot a clear blue sky, and the backdrop of swaying green-leafed trees tempts me to play hooky and sit outside in the sunshine instead.

Except I have to work.

Womp.

I hopped out of bed and made myself a to-go mug of coffee, pulled on my nicest cabinwear, and drove here to the tune of all but one green light.

Tad doesn’t come in until late this afternoon, so it’s my job to open. Dominic is here when I walk in. We exchange waves.

I try to focus on working, but nothing can distract me from the fact that Dax is on the mountain. I fully intend to head up there as soon as I check email.

I’m pecking in the password on the laptop as Dom appears in the doorway of the office.

“What are you doing here so early?”

I eyeball the clock. “It’s eight o’clock. That’s when I’m supposed to be here.”

“Right. It’s eight o’clock and you’re usually here around eight twenty.”

“So?”

“You’re on time.”

Okay, I’ll give it to him. That’s noteworthy. I’m never on time.

“I have a few things to do out there.” I wave a hand toward the parking lot.

“I bet you do,” Dom frowns.

I cluck my tongue at his rude comment. But it’s too beautiful a day, and my coffee is too perfect for me to feel down!

Or so I think.

I click my email icon and am greeted by email after email after email. Twenty-two . . . then my computer bings again and six more emails infiltrate my in-box. Ten of them are from our booking operator with good news: Ten full cabins. Scheduled for this weekend.

Dammit.

The one time I show up on time so I can skip out of work early, and I have to actually work!

Crap.

I settle in, remembering Tae’s favorite saying: “There’s nothing to it but to do it.” If that mantra works for a hot Korean guy in the Big Apple, it’s good enough for me.

Besides, Dax isn’t going anywhere.

I know just where to find him.