Page 81 of Every Beautiful Mile

I stand, leaning on the side of the cab, taking in the view. The river flows by like a keeper of secrets as the midday light dances off its ripples. In the distance, green rolling mountains stretch out as far as the eye can see. The way the summer breeze slithers across my neck and the smell of clean air hangs in my nostrils is both a feeling and a place.

Marin’s loud laugh pulls me back to my body at the same time Ethan steps down from the porch.

He strolls toward me casually, like his only destination is his next step, and there’s a smirk angled across his face that irks me.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he drawls as he leans against the cab to face me.

I roll my eyes.

“Nice house,” I deadpan.

He shrugs casually. “You think?”

I pin him with an unamused look. “Well, it’s just as beautiful as it was yesterday,” I say, looking towards the kids instead of him.

“So, this is the home on wheels.” He nods at the Avion. “Do I get a tour?”

He doesn’t wait for the answer, walking toward the door.

“Umm, sure. I mean, it’s not much to see,” I say, swallowing too many times.

I walk up the steps first, he follows. Closely.

“The tour is really long,” I say with mock seriousness. “Kitchen, dining room, my bed, kids' beds, bathroom.” I point in rapid succession. “The end.” I smile despite the fact his presence feels like death by strangulation.

He looks around, studying the details as he makes a slow circle in place. He stops when he faces the loft, walking to the small curtain that separates my bed from everything else and pauses, looking over his shoulder with a feral grin.

“Looks big enough for two,” he says, pulling back the curtain back.

“It’s not.” My mouth goes bone dry at the notion. “Now get out! I feel like I can’t breathe.” I put my hands on his back and bulldoze him out as he laughs.

“You’re blushing,” he says once we’re outside.

“It’s an allergic reaction.” The lie makes my skin burn hotter. “Anyway, what’s the plan here? Are we fishing, or did you just lie about that to lure us out here so you could do God knows what?”

He laughs louder this time.

“I’ve had you alone for two nights in a row. Luring is a stretch. But let’s fish. I have the gear set up in the garage. You want to see the inside of the house, or is that too dangerous for you?”

“Yes.” I say quickly. “I mean, no. I mean—” I let out a long exhale. “Fine.”

The man turns the ground beneath me to quicksand and makes it impossible to find solid footing anywhere.

“Tour it is,” he says with a smile.

We walk toward the back of the house to the porch that faces the river. The beautiful wood siding exterior is even more gorgeous up close. It’s rough and grainy as I rub my fingers across it.

The porch is spacious, with several chairs and a large table. It’s just a deck—boards and simple furniture—but it feels like a place you sit while life slowly unfurls like the leaves of a fern.

Marin waves up at me from the shore, and I wiggle my fingers back with a smile as Ethan pushes the sliding glass doors open. I turn and follow him inside. We step into a great room that absolutely lives up to the name. It’s big, open, and smells like fresh-cut wood and spices.

A large river rock-covered fireplace fills one wall while the others are painted in a creamy shade of white. A few mounted animal heads and fish hang on the walls along with black and white photos like he has in his restaurant. The chairs and sofa are a masculine light brown leather with dark wooden details.

Connected to this room is a kitchen that looks like it came right off the set of a cooking show. Huge stainless-steel appliances and black stone countertops are framed by rich walnut cabinets.

I walk around, silently running my hand over every surface available, using my fingers to learn the space.

It’s stunning.

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