Page 19 of Loud Unspoken Memories

His cheeks blow out with a long exhale. “Calloway Creek.”

There’s pain in his eyes when he says the town name. So many questions burn in the back of my mind. But DallasMontana doesn’t seem too eager to open up to me, so I keep things cordial.

“You’re right. I’ve never heard of it. Where is it?”

“It’s just outside of New York City.”

“It sounds small.”

“Population twenty thousand.”

“Wow, thatissmall.” Maybe it’s not that big of a jump for him to go from such a small town to a cabin in the woods. There were more than forty thousand students at FSU. I can’t even imagine an entire town that’s half the size of my alma mater’s student body. “I assume you grew up there?”

“I did.” He reaches into his pocket and rips open a protein bar. “I’m going to eat now.”

Hmm. He ended that conversation quite abruptly. So he doesn’t want to talk about this little town where he grew up. Dallas is becoming more mysterious by the minute. And I’m nothing if not curious. But I bite my tongue and fall back a few steps, because clearly he doesn’t want to talk.

I let him be and make a mental list of what I need to do on my phone or laptop in case cell service goes out again. I need to make a few calls so Anita and Asher won’t worry. And I should make sure all my devices are fully charged in case his propane runs out before the tow truck arrives.

I suppose I’m not the one who needs to worry about it though. He did claim we’d have enough for another day or two. I should be long gone if and when he does lose power. It makes me wonder if he’d pack up and go back to Calloway Creek. Or is the thought of going back to his hometown so daunting he’d rather freeze to death in some remote cabin?

I focus on the back of his head. Whoisthis guy?

~ ~ ~

The wind has picked up and snow is starting to fall again as we approach his cabin.

My stomach starts to rumble as we walk through the front door, but my feet take priority. I peel off my wet socks and lay them by the fire—soon to be our only heat source. “If you really think you might lose power, we should start eating anything that might spoil. Mind if I whip up some brunch?”

He puts the backpack on the floor and removes his coat. “Have at it. I’m going to take that cold shower now.”

Without thinking about it, my eyes go directly to his crotch. Then my face heats up and I quickly look away when I realize I’ve misread the situation and am a total idiot.

“As if,” I think he says under his breath as he heads toward the bathroom.

I stare after him. What the hell is that supposed to mean? An eyebrow raises. Ooooooooh, maybe he’s gay. That has to be it. Because come on, single guy in a remote cabin stranded with a pretty girl he’s just saved from certain demise? That’s got hot one-night stand written all over it.

And for the umpteenth time today, I find I’m practically drooling over the gorgeous puzzle of a hermit who is, at this very moment, getting naked and wet in the shower.

I scold myself when I hear my own audible sigh. I should definitely not be thinking about who may or may not remove the cobwebs between my legs at a time when my best friend’s funeral is being planned.

Damn, woman, get a grip. I need to call Anita. I put her on speaker as I dice up vegetables and reheat his leftover steak from last night.

After I update Anita, check in on Charlie, and reassure him I’ll be there as soon as possible, I call Asher.

“Good news, I hope?” he asks.

“Sorry, no. I’m stuck here until tomorrow. There’s a lot of snow and limited resources. Getting a plow or a tow truck all the way out here is not high on their list of priorities. And it’s snowing again.”

“Jesus.”

“What is it?”

“I’m looking at a weather map right now. Marti, it’s not looking good. If you’re in as remote a place as you say, it could be more than just another day. They’re calling for a blizzard. Up to two more feet of snow. It’s all over the news. Holy shit.”

“What?”I pull up the weather on my phone and stare at the large purple blob coming this way. Purple. That’s worse than red. I sit heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. “Asher, he’s almost out of propane.”

“What are you talking about?”

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