Page 5 of Peaked Desires

My mind is scattered, but Huxton shows me a few of the different types of cabins available before leading me towards the biggest building on the site. He’s being super professional, telling me all the details about the structures and some background stories to the history of the land.

Splashes of color from wildflowers brighten up the pathway and as I take it all in, Huxton holds the door open for me to step inside the restaurant. Again, there is no smile as I pass him. Emotionless. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s just me that feels… whatever it is I feel between us.

The room is enormous as I move further into the inviting warmth. A crackling fireplace is set to one side, a warm glow cast across the room. The scent of freshly baked bread fills the air, making my stomach grumble.

“Oh wow, this is gorgeous,” I say, taking in the rustic décor. “You didn’t build this all by yourself? Did you?”

Huxton shrugs. “Mostly. I had some help with the kitchen fit-out. I wasn’t messing about with electrics and gas fittings without the help of a professional. Not with the safety of my guests in mind.”

I scour the room, mouth gaping at the sheer beauty of the craftmanship inside. The wooden beams give me the cozy and rustic vibe felt throughout the retreat, but the exposed brick walls and sleek lighting fixtures add a touch of luxury.

“Huxton, you should be so proud.”

He holds a hand out, gesturing to a table by a large window overlooking the mountains.

“Join me for lunch,” Huxton demands, not even a hint of question in his statement.

That was an order. A demand from my boss.

Hmmm… I think I like being told what to do by this man.

I take my seat and glance out of the window, noticing a statue carved from a fallen timber log. It’s a man with an axe draped over his shoulder, and by his side is a small boy looking up at him, smiling. A plaque below the structure has ‘Mountain Retreat Lodge’ carved into the wood and a slogan that says, ‘The land will remain once we are gone, treat it with love, Son.’

“The perfect spot to eat,” Huxton says, his deep voice booming across the table as he sits down.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, still distracted by the sculpture outside. “Mr. Barrel-”

“Huxton,” he interrupts, pinning me with those steely blue eyes. “Call me Huxton.”

My skin burns from the intensity of that gaze. Wow.

“Huxton…” I gulp out. “What is this sculpture of?”

I watch the lump in his throat bulge up and down as he swallows. It’s the first sign of emotion I’ve seen from him, but it’s over before I can read any more into it because a waiter comes over and places two steaming bowls of food down in front of us.

“Welcome, Huxton. Enjoy your lunch, sir,” the neatly dressed waiter says.

“Thank you, Daniel,” Huxton says. “How’s your mother doing?”

The waiter gives a smile. “Better. Thank you.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” Huxton adds, and the waiter disappears back into the kitchen.

As we sit across from each other, Huxton spends the duration of the meal going over my responsibilities. He doesn’t answer my question about the sculpture, but I’m sure I catch him staring blankly out at it while we eat.

We’re served a delicious savory stew that’s so wholesome and warm I consider asking for seconds. Huxton goes through all my daily tasks along with an insight into everything that needs doing before the big launch in a few weeks time. He speaks passionately about each tiny detail of the retreat, but the grand opening seems to mean everything to him.

Over the course of the meal, dark clouds begin to gather outside. Huxton grows restless as he stares out at the changing weather. We finish our meal, and he wipes at his beard with a fresh white napkin.

I can’t stop gaping across the table as he tilts his wine glass to his lips. Somehow he even makes that look sexy.

“Well,” he groans, glancing out at the darkening sky. “I guess I should take you to Tracy and get you started in the office before this rain hits. The weather moves quickly up here in the mountains.”

I hear a hint of disappointment in his voice. I’m sure that’s what it is.

I don’t have time to linger in hope as he pushes to his feet and moves towards the door. We begin making our way towards the reception office but as we walk, the dark clouds crack above us. The sky splits and thunder meets a howling gush of wind that rips right through me. Within moments a heavy downpour begins, drenching everything in sight. Including me.

“Shit!” I squeal, my arms acting as a poor excuse of an umbrella.

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