Page 12 of Depths of Desire
I rolled my neck and forced a breath through my nose.
This wasn’t a big deal.
One night. A storm. A warm place to sleep.
Nothing would happen.
Because nothing could happen. I was training. I had to stay focused. I had to be sharp. I’d built my whole damn life around control, around pushing harder, and shutting everything else out. Distractions didn’t belong in my world. Especially not ones with easy smiles and dark, careful eyes who used to live two streets over and had grown into someone I didn’t know how to talk to anymore.
My jaw flexed. I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth.
He didn’t know. About me. About anything.
And he wasn’t going to.
I just had to make it through the night without looking too long or saying something I’d regret. Simple.
Lennox slowed the car as the trees cleared slightly. I saw the lodges ahead, all dark wood, soft lights glowing through frosted windows, smoke curling from chimneys. A few cabins sat scattered around, tucked in against the trees, like the whole place had exhaled into the snow.
It looked…fine. More than that, it looked warm and safe. And temporary.
I swallowed and braced my hands on my thighs.
I could handle this. One night. One storm.
As long as I didn’t look at him too much.
As long as I kept my mouth shut.
As long as I stayed focused.
I would survive.
But a heated palm tapped the back of my hand resting on my knee, and I startled, glaring at Lennox for letting his flesh touch mine with no warning. “Huh?”
“I’ll hop in and arrange a house,” he said.
Obviously, I thought. “Fine.”
Lennox let his gaze linger on my face for a heartbeat too long, making me sweat. I could see a question rising to his lips, his eyebrows contorting into a puzzled expression, but he wiped his face clean of emotion a moment later. “Be right back.”
Lennox hopped out of the car and hurried into the long, single-story reception lodge.
I leaned against the headrest and watched the thick flakes swirl with the wind, falling faster and harder than before.
Lennox returned a few minutes later, shaking snow from his hoodie as he climbed into the car. His cheeks were pink from the cold, his hair flecked with melting flakes. He held up a plastic key card like he’d won a prize.
“They’ve got a few cabins left, but they’re going fast,” he said. “A lot of people got caught by the storm.”
I didn’t say anything, just nodded once. A small pit opened in my stomach.
Lennox pulled away from the reception lodge and followed the narrow path deeper into the resort. The road curved between trees and low banks of snow, flanked by occasional streetlamps glowing soft amber. The snowfall had picked up, heavier now, drifting sideways in gusts.
He parked in front of a small cabin tucked beneath a pair of tall pines. It looked like a movie set. Lights glowed softly behind frosted glass. Smoke rose from a chimney. The roof wore a blanket of fresh snow, perfect and undisturbed.
Lennox grabbed both duffels from the back seat and led the way up the shoveled path. The porch creaked under our steps. He slid the key card into the lock, and the door clicked open.
I stepped inside behind him and stopped.
