Page 11 of Cozy Cabin for Two
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
I was close enough now to catch the scent of him—outdoors, leather, trees—uniquely Ash that sent the butterflies fluttering crazily in my stomach. “Stop punishing yourself for wanting something you never let yourself have.”
“I can’t.” But even as he said it, his gaze dropped to my lips.
The cabin walls closed in until there was nothing but the space between our bodies and the electricity crackling in the air.
His resolve cracked, shoulders falling. His hands lifted slightly from his sides, then fell back as if he’d caught himself.
“You’re Scott’s?—”
“Iwas.But he’s gone. And I loved him, Ash. I truly did. What I had with Scott was comfortable. Safe. Built on friendship.” ” The words came out harsher than I intended, but they needed to be said. I took thefinal step that brought us almost chest to chest, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. My lashes fluttered. “What I feel for you has never been safe.”
A sound escaped him—half groan, half growl—and suddenly his hands were on my waist, fingers digging into the soft cotton of my sundress like anchors. Not pulling me closer, but not pushing me away either. Just holding on. Like I might disappear.
“This is a mistake,” he whispered, but lacked conviction.
“No, I’m tired of wondering what if.” I lifted my hands to his chest. The rapid beat of his heart thumped beneath my palms.
“Willow,” he breathed, his head dipped toward mine, taking an eternity to get there, like we were the last two people on Earth and time no longer mattered. Our lips almost touched, only a centimeter away from fusing together at last?—
The shrill ring of his phone shattered the moment into pieces.
He sprang away from me to answer it. All the breath whooshed from my lungs. I’d throw his phone out the window if I could.
SEVEN
Churched
ASH
I glancedat the caller ID and grimaced. “It’s Chris. My boss, calling from Virginia.” A pause, then I swiped to answer. “What’s up?”
I turned away from the temptress Willow, as my body shifted from frustrated arousal to stoic professionalism.
Chris opened with, “I’d like you to host a Fall Open House. It’s time for the people in the region to visit the ranch.”
“A Fall Open House? Chris, I just got the ranch running smoothly, and you want us to host?—”
The myriad of reasons cut me off as to why he thought this idea was worthy. I respected the hell out of the guy, but I never knew what idea he might come at me with from call to call.
He’d mentioned the idea of an open house before, but I had hoped he’d forgotten about it. I rather enjoyed the quiet of this mountain life. The idea of families crawling all over the ranch, invading my space, didn’t appeal.
“It’ll go a long way toward building community favor,” he concluded.
“Okay. Fine. When?” I gave in and raked my hair back off of my face.
“Nicoletta and I will be there in three weeks,” he answered.
“Three weeks? That’s not much time to plan. And I don’t know the first thing about putting on an event like this.”
Willow cleared her throat and stepped forward, snapping fingers to get my attention. She whispered, “I can help.”
My eyebrows shot up. She nodded more emphatically.
“Actually,” I drew out the word, my eyes never leaving hers. “My sister-in-law is in town. Maybe she could help?”
She cringed as if she hated my calling her that. It was a label I had a difficult time processing myself.
