Page 39 of The Marrying Kind
“That was a lot of yeahs.” Austen looked at me pointedly. “We could drive on and find another place, if you want.”
I shook my head. “No, of course not. The honeymoon suite it is.”
Once Austen had finished checking in, and then we started the ascent up the mountain in the SUV with a little hand-drawn map. His gaze stayed on the road ahead, but he cleared his throat.
“The irony of staying in a honeymoon suite aside, just know that if you want me to, I can keep my hands to myself. I heard you yesterday. We’re just friends. This isn’t going anywhere.” His voice was deep and gruff.
Had I said those words yesterday? Not in that particular way, but Austen had asked if I could be someone’s girlfriend ...hisgirlfriend, I presumed. But that would mean sticking around in the same small town forever.
Austen had a full life in Kodiak Canyon, a growing business, and a close-knit family. He wasn’t going to drop all that and travel the world with me. And I sure as heck wasn’t ready to imagine the life of routine again.
Plus, Austen wanted a family, and that was something I couldn’t give him. He seemed like the type to say it didn’t matter when it really did. I’d only known him a short time, but I already knew how important family was to him. He deserved someone who wanted the things he wanted, even if that thought made my chest pinch with a little pang of jealousy.
“Ella?” he asked as he parked in front of a little cabin with the number twelve on the door.
“Oh, you found it,” I said as I shook away the heavy thoughts.
I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed for the door. The air was colder up here, higher on the mountain, and it instantly chilled me, even through my coat. Austen grabbed our bags from the trunk while I unlocked the door and stepped inside.
“Oh, wow, they weren’t kidding about that honeymoon thing,” Austen said with a gravelly voice as we clicked on the lights.
For the most part, it was a cabin just like any other—honey-colored wood from floor to ceiling, and rustic charm. But this cabin also had a heart-shaped red tub in the center of the room with pink tulle hanging around it, and a king-size bed covered in heart-shaped pillows. All over the walls were signs that read things likeDO NOT DISTURB, LOVE-MAKING IN PROGRESS.
“This is ...a lot.” I chuckled and kicked off my shoes. “Am I crazy that I kind of want to soak in the cheesy tub?”
“Be my guest.” Austen pressed a kiss to my temple.
So much for that “friends” speech he gave me a few minutes ago. Not that I wanted him to stop touching me. At least while we were together, I wanted this.
“You don’t want to join me?” I said hopefully.
He shook his head. “I’m trying to quit you cold turkey.”
I snorted. “I’m not a drug. And also, we’re still together on our last hurrah. Shouldn’t we enjoy each other?”
A dark look crossed his face for a second before his easy smile returned. “Yeah. Okay. Why not.”
• • •
The next day we traveled down the mountain to find some breakfast, then hiked around enjoying the beautiful scenery before we stopped for a picnic lunch. Austen talked me into a nap, which I assumed meant sex, but nope. He was staunch in his resolve, and we actually both slept a few hours.
After we finished dinner in a little Mexican restaurant, he drove us to a building at the resort marked simply with the wordsACTIVITY CENTER.
“Should I be worried that we drove a whole day to have a ping-pong adventure?” I asked him, only half kidding. Not that it was his job to entertain me, but I had certainly expected more when he’d said this trip would blow me away.
He couldn’t answer because a broad-set woman with a fantastic blond mullet was stalking toward us.
“Are you Austen, party of two?” she asked.
“That’s us.” He shook her outstretched hand.
“I’m Pam. I’ll be taking you up in the Sno-Cat. Takes about an hour and a half.”
My face twisted in confusion, but Austen just beamed at me and grabbed my hand to tug me along. He had packed a duffel bag, but I had no idea what was in it or what he was planning. Though I was guessing it wasn’t ping-pong.Thank goodness.
When we stepped out the back of the building, my stomach began to churn with nerves at the sight of a big boxy orange vehicle with Caterpillar treads instead of tires.
Taking in my expression, Pam patted the vehicle. “This here is a Tucker Sno-Cat. He’s going to take us straight up the sixty-degree-grade mountainside to your yurt.”
