Page 2 of You Otter Know
“Ohhhhh, yeah.”
He could totally have a nap. He’d go have supper and cookies and whatever in plenty of time, but for right now he was going to curl up in this amazing bed and have a long rest.
He’d been a little worried that he’d chosen poorly when he’d driven up and the clerk had checked him in, but this was going to be the perfect Christmas. Just him, Hallmark movies, and hot cocoa in the great Oregon nowhere.
River closed his eyes and let himself drift right off to sleep, the sound of a rushing creek the perfect lullaby to his ears.
Chapter
Two
Bohdi Depford pulled his little pick-up into the loading zone in front of the office of the lodge where he was booked for the holidays.
The building looked neat as a pin, and the Christmas lights twinkled in the windows and around the eaves, glittering in the twilight as the first snowflakes started to fall.
It looked idyllic, and he could totally use some of that.
He headed into the office, and there was no one behind the counter. Dammit.
He looked around, then followed his nose to a pretty lounge kind of room with a big sideboard, a fire in the fireplace, and the scent of cookies and cocoa filling the air.
“Hello?” He called out, not wanting to bother anyone, but desperately needing to settle in. He felt utterly exhausted.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” A dark-haired man wearing a long sleeve shirt and some khaki pants rushed over to the desk. “Checking in?”
“Uh, yeah. Bohdi Depford. I’m in thirteen.”
“Right!” He got a bright smile that looked a little manic, the guy pulling out cards and papers and keys. “Well, welcome to the lodge.”
“Thanks. I’m right by the stream, right?” He loved the sound of running water, especially at night.
“You are!” That smile widened, and he was a little worried the guy was, like, a serial killer. He wasn’t a big guy, though. Bohdi thought he could take, uh…He peered at the name tag. Branson.
He could totally take Branson.
“Cool.” He filled out the car thing, then signed the paper for the room rate.
“There are cookies in the lounge,” Branson said handing him his key and car placard. “And hot drinks. Chocolate, decaf coffee, and tea.”
“Uh, thanks.” He was hungry, but mostly he wanted to crash for a bit. He’d fled his family Christmas with a last-minute booking at the lodge. Bohdi was just sick of his mom and his aunts asking when he was going to settle down.
“I need grandchildren, Bohdi.” She always stared at him when she said it, arms crossed, foot tapping.
“Well, I’m not doing that, Mom, so you’ll just have to hope Serena gets that going on.” His little sister was sixteen, and he’d exchanged gifts with her, if not his folks, before he’d left.
“Don’t let Mom get to you,” she’d whispered. “You do you.”
Yeah. He would do that. Because he really didn’t have any choice.
He headed back out to his little truck, and he pulled around to number thirteen, which sat at the back of the loop, close to a really gorgeous stream.
But someone was parked in the one parking spot. He frowned. There was room for his car, but that was totally rude. It didn’t look so busy that someone needed to take his damn spot.
He slammed his truck door and left his bags in the back so he could storm up the little path to the cabin. The snow wasbeginning to fall in earnest now, big, fat flakes landing on his nose as he unlocked the door.
He stepped into the cabin, and he had to admit it was really nice inside. Clean, neat as a pin, with vaguely western lodge sort of furniture, it had plenty of room in the front area.
But there was a shirt lying on the floor. A henley, to be exact. And a jacket hanging on the hook by the door.
