A lot had changed at the cabin since the last time Christian visited. The roof had been replaced and the exterior sported vinyl siding instead of the wood that was there when Christian was in college. At some point, the McGreggors had added a porch with a couple of rocking chairs, which made the whole place seem cozier.

One thing hadn’t changed, though—the sense of coming home that ran through his veins as Christian pulled up the long drive. In many ways, this place had been a better home to him than his own. He certainly wouldn’t be heading back there for vacation any time soon. Not that he needed to be taking a vacation anywhere at the moment, but if he didn’t get over his brain block soon, he would be on permanent vacation, and he couldn’t afford that.

At first he’d been hesitant, agreeing to take the cabin for the week, but Mason had all-but kicked him out. He’d given Christian the keys and told him not to come back to the apartment until he had at least two articles done and some idea of what he was doing with his blog. Christian was pretty sure Mason just wanted an excuse to have his girlfriend over for the week, but he had taken the offer all the same.

He threw the car in park in front of the porch and walked around to the trunk, pulling out his over-stuffed suitcases. According to Mason, it had been a few months since anyone had visited Larksong, so he’d come prepared—two crates of food he’d bought before leaving Louisville, a suitcase full of clothes and swimming trunks in case he could figure out how the hot tub worked, and another filled with towels, blankets, and cleaning supplies. He hadn’t been a Boy Scout, but growing up in the Miller house meant always being prepared for some kind of emergency. Hell, he’d even brought a portable fire-starter kit so he wouldn’t freeze to death. Not that it was likely he would freeze to death in the middle of October, but you never knew.

It took nearly five minutes to haul everything up the porch steps and into the front hall. Most of it could wait to be put away, but the food needed to be seen about first. He dragged the tote into the kitchen and stopped. That was different. The last time he’d been here, the kitchen had been brick red, with chickens adorning every surface—portraits of chickens, ceramic chickens on top of the cabinets, even chicken-themed border paper at the top of the walls.

Now, red paint had been replaced with beige, and the whole space looked like the inside of an Olive Garden. There was a good chance Annabeth had been aiming for Tuscan charm, but she’d missed it by a wide mile. It was best not to mention it the next time he talked to her.

Once he’d unloaded the groceries into the fridge and pantry, he walked back out into the foyer and grabbed his suitcase, rolling it toward the stairs. Then he paused. Every time he’d stayed in the cabin, he and Mason had shared the attic loft. But the only beds up there were twin-sized, and he was the only one at the cabin for the week. Really, it made more sense for him to take the master suite on the main floor. He stood frozen in indecision for several minutes before wheeling the suitcase around and starting down the hallway toward the master suite. As long as he didn’t picture Annabeth and Robert having sex in the bed, he’d be fine.

Annnnd now he was picturing it. Fuck.

He opened the door to the bedroom and all thoughts of his adoptive aunt and uncle disappeared. As hideous as the kitchen renovation had been, the master bedroom was gorgeous. Soft blue walls contrasted against dark wood floors. At some point, Annabeth and Robert had bought new furniture, distressed cream with dark accents. He’d forgotten about the bay window, which had been turned into a seat. An actual fucking window seat. He could sure as hell see himself working there. If he couldn’t find inspiration here, where would he find it?

Leaving his suitcase at the door, he walked over to the king-sized bed and flopped down on it. Oh yeah, Mason was right. This was exactly what he needed. Fishing his phone out of his jeans, he scrolled through his recent contacts and pulled up Mason’s number. It rang three times before he finally picked up.

“Hey, did you make it?”

“Yeah, I almost didn’t recognize it. Your parents changed, like, everything!”

Mason snorted. “I take it you saw the kitchen?”

“Yeah.” He drew the word out. “Look, you know I love your mom, but what the hell was she thinking with that wallpaper?”

“She and Dad went on this trip to Italy maybe three years ago? She loved it so much she decided she wanted to decorate everything like that. You should see their other kitchen.”

“I really don’t think I want to.” There was no way it could be worse than this, but knowing Annabeth, somehow it would be.

“I’m talking grape vines and wine bottles everywhere. She tells all her Sunday School friends they’re only for decoration, but everyone knows differently.”

Oh right. For some people, that was a legitimate worry. When was the last time Christian had ever cared about what people at church thought? About the same time he realized he liked guys instead of girls—which happened to be around the same time the preacher had given a fire-and-brimstone sermon about how pop culture was normalizing ‘the homosexual lifestyle.’

“God, can you imagine what they’d say if they saw our place?”

“My nana would probably keel over dead. Or say she’d pray for me.”

They both fell silent and Christian knew what Mason was waiting for. He let out a dramatic sigh and rolled over onto his stomach.

“You were right, you know.”

“About?” The delight was clear, even through the phone.

“I needed a vacation, okay? I got burned out after that piece on the political climate in Appalachia, and I shouldn’t have offered to take the assignment from Kentucky Life but I did.”

He’d needed the money more than he’d needed the job. Nulu Magazine had done as much as they could to cover costs, but much of the three weeks he’d spent driving through Bourbon, Rowan, and Pike Counties had been on his own dime. If it hadn’t been for the contacts he’d made over the past few years literally letting him sleep on their couches, he didn’t know how he would have made it and paid rent, too.

“And have we learned our lesson?” Mason sing-songed.

“Don’t push your luck. I said you were right. That’s as good as you’re gonna get.” He waited a beat before letting out a soft sigh. “Thank you. It means a lot that you’d let me stay here and decompress. Even if you only did it so you and Jess can have sex in the apartment without having to worry about me hearing it.”

“Oh trust me, we never think about that. If you hear it, you hear it.”

“Yeah, that’s not really comforting.”

“Neither was hearing you and Ben go at it all the time.”

Christian’s heart did a weird flip in his chest. “Dude.”

“Fuck. Still too soon?”

He wanted to say no. That he’d been over Ben as soon as things had ended and he was totally fine talking about it. But that would have been a lie. “A little,” he admitted.

“It’s been three weeks,” Mason said gently. “You need to let him go.”

“You have no idea how much I’d love to do that, but unfortunately, it doesn’t quite work like that. I mean, do you think you’d be over Jess three weeks after if she broke up with you?”

There was a beat, before Mason said, “Okay, fair enough, but I don’t think you can compare the two. Jess and I have been tighter for four years. You and Ben had only been dating a few months.”

He had a point and Christian knew it, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Ben had been the second guy he’d ever seen himself getting serious with. The first guy he’d ever considered settling down for, since Jacob had gone into the Peace Corps. So when Ben had told him he didn’t see their relationship continuing, he’d been absolutely devastated. If not for the road trip through Appalachia, he wouldn’t have left his bed in the three weeks since the breakup.

“Look, I know it sounds harsh, but all I’m trying to say is that you’re going to find someone better than Ben was. There are plenty of people out there, and one day one of them will actually deserve you.”

Christian scoffed. “I know that was meant to make me feel better, but really? Someone who ‘deserves’ me? I’m not that special.”

“Yes you are,” Mason said immediately. “You’re kind, and good, and one of the best people I’ve ever met in my entire life. You go out of your way to report about people who wouldn’t otherwise be seen and even if you disagree with them, you try to find common ground. You deserve someone who’s going to support you. Ben would never have done that.”

Well he had a point, there. In the months they had been dating, all Ben had done was complain about Christian’s choice of jobs. At the very least, he’d said, Christian should have been working for bigger publications, as talented as he was. But that wasn’t what he wanted. At least not for the moment. Right now, he was content to write stories about those who ordinarily got overlooked—thus the trip to Appalachia.

“Ben wasn’t right for you. I know you think he was the love of your life, but dude. You’re twenty-six. You’ve got so much more time ahead of you to find the perfect guy.”

“Says the guy who’s been in a committed relationship since grad school.”

“That just means I know what I’m talking about. Just trust me, okay? Take this week to catch up on your deadlines and unwind a bit, and then when you come back to Louisville, I promise you can drag me to The Bar Complex. I’ll be the best wingman you could ask for.”

While Christian wasn’t entirely sure he would be up for going to The Bar Complex when he got back, he could tell that arguing with Mason was a lost cause at this point. Mason was like a terrier that way—once he got his teeth into something, he never let go.

“Fine. You were right about needing a break. Who knows. Maybe you’ll be right about this.”

“I know I will be.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Christian pushed up off his stomach and climbed off the bed, walking over to the window to admire the view of the Cumberland. It really was gorgeous this time of year, with the changing of the leaves and the fog that fell during the evening.

Something white shot across his vision, and it took him a moment to register that it was a car driving up the road to the cabin. What the fuck?

“Uh, hey, no one else was coming up this weekend, right? Like, you didn’t tell your parents, did you?”

“I told them you’d be there, but they’re in Ontario. Why?”

“There’s someone coming up the road.”

“What the fuck? I swear to god if it’s the Sanderson kids, I’m gonna come up there myself and beat the shit out of them. I told you they broke in last summer and used the hot tub, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s them. The car’s too nice.”

The SUV pulled further up the drive and eventually came to a stop beside Christian’s Jeep. He turned on his heel and headed out of the bedroom. How dare some stranger ruin the start to a quiet week? It was one thing talking to Mason—they were practically brothers—but dealing with anyone else? Not on his to-do list for the next seven days. He threw open the front door, ready to give the asshole a piece of his mind and stopped dead in his track, his heart stuttering.

“Hey Mase?” His voice sounded breathy in his ears. “I’m gonna have to call you back. Jonah’s here.”