Page 26 of Snowy Secrets

"I apologize, Bella," he says, his voice hollow and devoid of emotion. "I never meant to hurt you."

And with that, he turns and leaves the room, leaving me standing there, trembling with a mixture of anger, regret, and a lingering ache in my heart.

Two hours pass by. Shortly after midnight, I realize how hungry I am. I'd kill for a bit of the chicken now, but I'm not sure there's any left.

A bit of cursing later, I decide to try my luck downstairs. "Please, no more surprises," I mutter under my breath as I descend the stairs.

But as I enter the kitchen, my heart stops. Sitting at the table, a steaming cup of tea in his hand, is Wyatt. A slow smile spreads across his face as he looks directly at me.

"Well, well, well," he drawls, his voice laced with amusement. "Looks like you could use a drink."

11

WYATT

The last place I expected myself to be was, well, here. Not in the sense of being at the cabin—Marcus offered me a deal where I could have owner's rights in exchange for building the furniture for the place. I'm still getting used to being a business owner, not that the cabin is flourishing in terms of attracting guests. It's a beautiful little setup with lots of trees, but also lots of snow. Hell, I barely made it here alive as far as I was concerned.

I draw in a deep breath and walk up to the front door. I manage to open the door despite the sticking hinges and the weight of snow that had piled up against it. Shivering, I beat snow off my shoulders and step out of my boots so that I don’t track snow through the house.

A napkin flutters out of my pocket, and I smirk as I realize that it’s from the bar in Spokane where I mether. My stomach flips over, but my cock twitches. I chuckle at the mixed reactions that she has stirred in me.

Not that I'm complaining. In all these years of casually hooking up with women, I've never experienced someone doing the same to me. She was open and honest about it. Good traits,sure. But those bedroom eyes and plump lips were even better. The way her mouth parted in shock, her hair falling in soft waves…chef's kiss, I'd say.

Spokane was…educational, let's say. I learned that a woman like Bella is about as compatible with me as a termite is with a redwood deck. Still, her flair for the dramatic did give me the push I needed to finish some projects. Work is good. Work never asks me to leave in the middle of the night.

Whispering Pines, now that's more my style. Peace, quiet, and trees that don't talk back. It's enough to make a man consider swearing off women altogether and marrying himself to a bandsaw instead.

I always pictured settling down here, building a life with my own two hands, maybe even sharing it with someone special one day. But hey, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is the perfect cabin or the perfect woman. Though she came pretty close, with her wide-eyed wonder and the way she made me feel…seen? Heard? Dunno the right word, but it was infuriating as fuck. Not as much as being tossed out, of course. I moped around for a bit, and I'll even go so far as to admit I was stalkerish. Hung around the cafe near her place, hoped to run into her at the store a block down, but no such luck.

It's common knowledge that when something is going south, all the other parts of your life usually follow.

Speaking of which, I was given a new project by Jonathan Carter. Guess some guys chase after women, and I chase after knot-free lumber. To each their own, right? Except, the day I walked into his house to get the details I'd need to build new furniture for his study, I got myself a new friend I'd grow close to in no time at all.

I genuinely like Carter, and the others in his friend group I met over dinner a day later. They invited me back to their cabin, which brought me here where I was currently stranded. Not thatI minded too much. We all got along. I was sure they wouldn’t mind if I had to stay over for a few days.

“Marcus?” I call out, still shivering a little, but warming up quickly in the cozy cabin. I walk toward the kitchen and halt dead when I caught sight of who is in the kitchen. Freya…no…Bella stood in the kitchen, staring at me with eyes that were wide with shock.

She's just as gorgeous as I remember, and she's got my heart flipping around in my chest. Dammit. The initial shock on her face dissipates slowly. “What are you doing here?”

I chuckle at the stress she has placed on the word “you”.

“Jonathan Carter asked me to come up here to find local wood for the furniture that I’m planning to make for him. I tried calling Marcus to see if he was still up here so I could come and say hello. He must not have heard the phone ringing or something. He didn’t answer. I just decided to come up anyhow, not realizing how hard it’s snowing up here.

She scowls a little. “There’s no cell service due to the storm,” she manages to say. It sounds like she’s gritting her teeth.

“Makes sense,” I say to her. “Marcus still here?”

“Yeah. And River,” she says. Her tone is definitely tense now. I wonder why. She stalks over to the kitchen counter and dumps some whiskey into her mug. She gestures to me in invitation, and I nod. Why not? I’m cold, and the whiskey will help me warm up.

"You okay?" I ask through a swig of throat-burning, heart-warming whiskey.

"No, and I don't want to talk about it." She takes a little sip and sets the glass down with a decisive thud. "Is that all right?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Fine by me."

A few minutes go by, and then, she starts talking. She tells me about her life, her kid, and her past with River. I stare at her longingly the whole time, my eyes never leaving the liquid lightin her eyes, the way her lips tremble when she says his name, and how her chest rises and falls with each little sigh she takes.

"River was a jerk," I finally say drily. "But you shouldn't put it past him to make amends, you know?"

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