Page 6 of Don't Make Me Fall
Alanna
“Where were you last night?” I demand of my brother, Reid, when I spot him in the lobby talking to Winnie at the front check-in counter.
He’s wearing a flannel shirt, jeans, and has a toolbelt wrapped around his waist. It’s not an Army uniform, but the look suits him just the same. Especially in this log cabin style lodge. The place looks both rustic and modern in a way I can’t quite pin, but I approve. It’s sohim.
“Hey, Sis. Hello to you too. You’re welcome for the last-minute accommodations.”
“You owed me.” I set the untouched lunch tray on an empty end table so I can fold my arms over my chest to emphasize my irritation. “Andyou stuck me with your grumpy friend.”
“Oh, that would be Hudson.”
Hudson. Damn. Why does his name, just like everything else about the man, have to be so sexy? It would be so much easier tohate the man, if only we didn’t have some kind of moment last night outside at the van.
Or at least Ithinkit was a moment.
The internal debate kept me up late into the night.
That, and stalking my boss’s social media like the pathetic fool that I am.
“He had me convinced I’d get eaten by a mountain lion if I walked into town to find you?—”
“You don’t want to wander off alone at dusk around here,” Reid says, his tone all matter-of-fact.
“He’s right,” Winnie agrees, her tone more compassionate. “We’ve had a big cat lurking near town lately. Dusk and dawn are the most dangerous times to be out by yourself. Hudson’s warning was justified. He was just looking out for you, dear.”
“Oh,” I say, finding it hard to be annoyed at Winnie for coming to Hudson’s defense. The woman reminds me of one of the Hallmark grandmas who bakes cookies nonstop and secretly tries to set her grandson up with the girl. Thankfully, her grandson—Reid’s business partner, Mason—is already married.
Too bad Hudson’s not her grandson.
I shake away the unsolicited thought that has zero grounding in reality, but it doesn’t stop me from scanning the lobby looking for signs of him.
“What’s with the tray?” Reid asks, pulling me back to my present dilemma.
“Erin won’t eat.” I let out a defeated sigh. “I’m worried about her. She’s acting very…un-Erin.”
Last night, after the five of us got settled in our individual rooms and changed into our PJs, we congregated in Erin’s room. She was uncomfortably quiet, despite our best attempts to get her to talk. I suspect she’s still in shock, but her oddly calm demeanor is so out of character for her.
“What happened?” Reid asks. The question is fair considering I gave my brother very few details about the last-minute change in plans. “I thought you were all on your way to Cancun.”
“Chad happened, that’s what,” I hiss. “He tripped, and his dick slipped intoGwen.”
“I never liked that guy,” Reid says, his expression hardening.
“You’ve never met him,” I point out.
“Maybe your friend just needs some quiet time to decompress,” Winnie suggests, apparently unaffected by my use of the word dick in such a literal manner. I like Winnie.
“That’s pretty much what she said last night,” I admit. “It’s really theonlything she said.” Other than insisting the four of us get out and explore Cinnamon Creek so she can live vicariously through our experiences this weekend. She made it clear that she plans to stay locked in her room attached to her Kindle.
“Maybe you need some fresh air?”
“Me?”
“It’s daylight now,” Winnie insists. “Mountain lions rarely attack in broad daylight.”
“Maybe.”
“We have a whole range of activities you can sign up for,” Winnie adds, her face illuminating with excitement. Despite my own urge to lock myself in my lodge room, punishing myself by scrolling through Tyler and Cindy’s engagement photos on social media, I don’t want to hurt Winnie’s feelings.
