Page 19 of Roughing It

She snorts. “I bet it is.”

We settle into a comfortable silence, and I use the opportunity to study her. I’m transfixed by her beguiling features, scarcely visible but for the dying rays of the sun and the beginning twinkle of the moon filtering through the heavy treeline.

“It’s beautiful out here.”

“Yeah. Beautiful.” She catches me staring before I jerk my attention to the road.

If Blakely’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t show it, and the tension in my back lessens with each mile closer we get to thecabin. The cool air whips her long ponytail, her summer scent mixing with the pine.

Shit. Where did this gorgeous woman come from? And what the hell is she doing in Trail Creek with me?

I’m about to ask her when she gasps.

“I saw a deer!” Her excitement is palatable.

“There were five back there.”

She stares at me, mouth open in disbelief. “Five? No way. I was looking and saw one. You’re teasing me.”

“Don’t believe me?”

“Nope. There’s no way you saw five.”

“Fine. Look to your right… now.”

Blakely does as I ask and squeals as two mule deer dart into the dark.

“And over my shoulder now.”

Again, she follows my directions in time to catch sight of a young buck staring at the car. She spins in her seat, propping herself up on her knees to watch until we travel too far away for her to see.

“How did you do that? Are these like tame animals you feed? You know where to expect them?”

“Are they tame? That might be the most…” I stare at her for a beat, trying to wrap my head around her thinking. “No, they aren’t pets. I’ve spent fifteen years in the forests near Trail Creek and the years before that outdoors in other places. It’s my job to see them.”

“Color me impressed. I mean, you’re a total jackass, but at least you’re a competent jackass.”

That pulls an unexpected laugh from me. “I should put that on my business cards.”

Her responding laugh, a real one, not a simpering giggle or curated chuckle, makes my chest ache.

I am so fucked.

CHAPTER SIX

blakely

To say I’m surprised by the cabin is an understatement. Set in a clearing surrounded by a mix of aspen, pine, and spruce trees, it melts perfectly into the scenery. It’s rustic and charming, with a covered porch and swing.

But it’s also small. Really,reallysmall. Kirk said one bed, one bath, but I imagined a layout similar to an apartment. The reality is very different.

It’s oneroom—not one bedroom, just one room. The kitchen, living space, bed, and even the large clawfoot shower/tub combo are out in the open. It’s a gorgeous bath, deep and long, perfect for soaking. It even has space for two. But with only a shower curtain for modesty, I can’t help but think of how exposed I’ll be while using it. The only place with a door is the water closet housing the toilet and sink.

A flash of a too-small trailer, the width hardly more than my wingspan, with dingy smoke-stained walls zips through my mind.

“I’d give you a tour, but…” Hudson’s gravelly voice pulls me back to the present.

Snapping on an overly bright smile, I clear my throat. At least the ceilings are high—and charming with their exposed beams. “It’s lovely. I didn’t think it would be so… cozy.”

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