Page 6 of The Ruse of Romancing
Grandma Sue:
Kaden just finished his degree at Harvard and will be moving back to Utah in a couple weeks. Can’t believe we’ll have an Ivy League man in the family! LOL [kiss emoji] Cordially, Grandma Sue.
While our family had tried explaining to Grandma Sue that she didn’t need to close every text with her name, she didn’t listen. Though I wasn’t sure anyone had explained to her that “LOL” didn’t stand for “lots of love.” The cousins had discussed having someone tell her, but no one had followed through. After all, what was family for if not moral support and the occasional, non-life-threatening prank where you didn’t intervene when someone was saying something ridiculous?
Deciding I’d respond to Grandma Sue and text the cousins about the latest Kaden update later, I quickly finished my food and headed to grab my luggage and rental car. An issue with my reservation was the icing on the cake for my day, further delaying me so that it was well after 8:00 p.m. before I was finally on the road driving to my vacation rental over two hours away. Unfortunately, this left me navigating the winding roads to the Oregon coast in the dark.
“I’m pretty sure this is how most slasher movies start,” I mumbled to myself as I followed the car’s GPS instructions up a tree-lined road that looked deserted. The rental listing had mentioned the duplex was secluded, which had sounded like a major selling point when I’d been booking it for my writing retreat. I hadn’t thought about the fact that I would be staying in a strange house, in a strange place, surrounded by strangers, alone.
The music I’d been listening to on a spotty local radio station decided to call it quits, plunging me into complete silence as I drove, the GPS indicating the duplex where I was staying was at the very end of the road.
“It’s fine. Just don’t think about all the true crime podcasts you shouldn’t have listened to, but couldn’t help yourself.”
Unfortunately, saying the words out loud didn’t seem to help. Instead, it just conjured images of flannel-bedecked bearded men wielding chainsaws and chasing me through the woods. Having a writer’s imagination came with distinct disadvantages. Though maybe Avery would accept the first chapter of a thriller. If I couldn’t get the characters ofOf Curses and Pomegranatesto talk to me, maybe it was time to try a different set of characters.
At that moment, a deer darted into the road, making me screech as I slammed on my brakes. The animal froze and watched me for a moment, illuminated in my headlights, before darting into the woods. It reminded me of the opening scene inTwilight,and now I was picturing sparkling vampires lurking in the woods, ready to drain me of my blood.
Having an overactive imagination really was the worst.
Keeping my foot firmly on the brake, I leaned my forehead on the steering wheel, taking deep breaths as I tried to calm my pounding heart.
“It was just a deer,” I said under my breath. “Just a stupid deer. It wasn’t a serial killer or bigfoot or a vampire or anything else. Just breathe.”
After a few more deep breaths, I eased my foot off the brake, allowing myself to continue inching up the road. I had to be getting close. All I wanted to do was unload my luggage and go straight to bed. I’d worry about less important things like writing bestsellers and finding food in the morning.
The headlights continued to illuminate my path until, finally, I reached the duplex, a ranch-style building with two garages in the middle. I knew from the match-making messages with the owner that half of the unit was occupied by their grandson and caretaker of the property, Mason, which left the entire other halfto me. While I loved Avery and Hercules and my entire host of meddling cousins and family members, having some distance from real life would be a good thing.
It had to be. At this point, I didn’t really have a choice. It was either make this writing retreat work or go back to my day job, disappointing millions of fans worldwide and bankrupting my sister, which would result in Sadie’s business also taking a hit, since she was contracted as my editor. So really, no pressure.
The scene revealed by my headlights as I approached the driveway made it clear Mason wasn’t the only one currently enjoying the duplex. Leaning against the door of a small car parked in the driveway, two people stood locked in a very tight embrace. And while I could only see the back of the man’s head, a man I was assuming was named Mason, I was fairly certain their lips were very occupied. Occupied enough that they didn’t even look up at the lights and sounds from my car.
Of course, there was always the chance this man wasn’t Mason and there was a serial make-out artist on the loose in Cascade Harbor. Was that a thing?
Pressing on my brakes, I evaluated my options. The driveway was clearly large enough for two vehicles, but the make-out car currently sat in the middle of the driveway, leaving me without anywhere to park. Additionally, it made it so I couldn’t access the garage for my side of the duplex, which was how I’d been instructed to enter the building using the last four digits of my phone number as the garage code.
Rolling down the window, I winced at the chill in the air. I hadn’t thought to put on one of my jackets when I’d left the airport. I’d been too focused on getting to my rental before it got too late.
“Um, excuse me?” I called, not really sure the correct protocol for interrupting a make-out session in front of your vacation rental after ten at night. Sadie would know exactly how to handlethis situation in a way that they’d all be best friends after. I was more likely to offend and embarrass everyone involved.
The couple continued their activities, oblivious to my presence and discomfort. It was just my luck that I was going to be living next door to some kind of flannel-wearing Fabio for the foreseeable future. Another point in the universe’s favor for making this one of my top five worst travel experiences ever. I’d learned my lesson: avoid Poppy at the airport at my own peril because karma was after me for dodging her instead of getting over myself and just signing some books.
“I’ll wear her bracelet everyday I’m in Oregon if it means the bad luck will stop,” I said to myself as I tried to remember which pocket of my carry-on I’d slipped it into while on the plane.
I put the car in park along the side of the road and climbed out, not wanting to honk and disturb any unseen neighbors this time of night. Since politely keeping my distance and calling to the enamored couple didn’t seem to be doing the trick, it looked like I’d have to resort to more drastic measures.
“Excuse me!” I called again, this time louder as I walked toward the couple, gravel crunching under my shoes. I wrapped my arms around myself in an ineffective attempt to stay warm, goosebumps breaking out over my arms. “I need you to move your car.”
The couple finally stopped their activities, seeming to notice they were no longer alone, just the two of them and a host of wildlife like the deer I’d almost run over. Now that I thought about it, that deer was probably running away from this couple and the sight of them thoroughly enjoying themselves in broad... night light.
“I’m sorry, but I think you’re in the wrong place,” the man said, turning to face me fully, his deep voice coming out gruff and a bit frustrated. He had a beard and dark hair pulled into a bun, though that was about all I could make out of his featuresin the dark, reminding me of the serial killer I’d been imagining earlier. Why the duplex didn’t have something as simple and helpful as porch lights, I had no idea.
I’d pass along the suggestion to the friendly owners, if I ever made it inside my rental.
“I beg to differ. My vacation rental agreement says otherwise,” I said, holding up my phone as if it proved anything. Realizing my lockscreen wouldn’t help in this moment, I quickly unlocked the screen and opened my email, certain the email confirmation would clear up any confusion, only to find I had no service. Not even a single bar.
I waved the phone around, hoping to pick up a signal.
“There’s no reception out here. Besides, I’m the only one who lives here. This,” he waved behind himself in a dismissive gesture, “is my place.”
