by Grey, R. S.
When it goes to voicemail, I leave a message.
“Hey Mom, I’m not sure if you’ve talked to Jeremy yet. He said he was going to call you once he got back to Oak Dale since cell service is so bad out here. He and Khloe are moving to San Antonio. Khloe’s pregnant. It’s…yeah…he’ll do a better job of explaining everything. He’s going to be a dad. Did I already say that? Anyway, I’m calling because I won’t be coming home this weekend. I didn’t want to be stranded in Oak Dale on Monday morning and miss work, so I thought it was better to stay. Anyway…” I look down at the ground, brows furrowed. “I miss you guys.”
The voicemail cuts me off, and it’s just as well because I was already starting to ramble, the feeling of homesickness brewing up inside of me not something I want to indulge. It’s a glorious Saturday and I have absolutely nothing on my agenda. I can do whatever I want! Well, I can do whatever I want while stranded in the middle of the forest.
In a pure stroke of genius, I tromp back to Rose Cabin and grab a fresh towel and some clothes I don’t mind getting wet. I’m headed back out the door when my attention catches on Ethan’s paperback, a book by Brandon Sanderson. Without a second thought, I snatch it off his bed and carry it out to the lake with me. I stay out there most of the day, reading and lying out in the sun. When I’m feeling my bravest, I creep toward the edge of the lake and dip my toes in. It’s freezing, but after sitting in the sun for so long, it’s refreshing and the water is so clear and inviting, I can’t resist. I dive in and swim until my limbs start to ache. Then I head back to shore, towel off, read, and repeat the same process until my stomach is aching with hunger. In the mess hall, I fix myself a sandwich then take my book outside to sit where we’ve been gathering after dinner the last few days. Usually Mike plays his guitar and we get a nice flame going in the firepit.
Now, the fire pit sits empty and the camp is quiet, but this book is way better than I thought it would be, and I actually don’t mind having tons of time to sit and read alone.
The next day, I repeat the same schedule through most of the morning, except I take a longer swim and follow it with an extra-long nap while partially concealed by the canopy of pine trees. When I stir, I realize it’s because there’s a group of deer nearby, chomping on some plants only a few yards away from me. I hold perfectly still, watching two white-freckled fawns as they stick close to their mom, stealing sips of milk when they get the chance. They’re tiny and clumsy, both greedy for food. I laugh when one of them nudges the other out of the way, and the doe’s head perks up at the sound before she darts away, her offspring following quickly after her. The three of them remind me of my family, and the thought doesn’t fill me with sadness like I thought it would. I feel hope. I’m doing the right thing for my mom and McKenna. Being here means making more money than I ever could back in Oak Dale. Just because Jeremy is gone doesn’t mean anything bad will happen. I’ve made friends with a few of the guys, and I’m beginning to find a place of my own among the crew.
With that thought, I shed my towel and dip back into the lake, going for a second swim before I trudge back to camp, soaking wet.
In late spring, the temperature isn’t quite hot enough to warm me, and I’m still shivering by the time I make it back to the cabin. I change and eat a late lunch before sitting out on the porch, reading. I’m nearing the end of the paperback and the suspense is killing me. The author has been building toward an epic battle and I know I need to read quickly if I want to finish it before Ethan gets back.
The wind picks up and I shiver, unsure of the time. I was too hungry to rinse off earlier, but when I walk back into the cabin to escape the cool wind, my eyes catch on the aluminum tub in the corner. There’s a drain on one side. I know it could be used as a bath, and it’s clean thanks to my sweep of the cabin this week. The showers around the camp don’t get hot water. They get whatever the hell water they pull up from the wells, and usually that means quick freezing-cold showers taken with chattering teeth and goose bumps covering my entire body.
A hot bath sounds like an indulgence I can’t pass up, even if it means boiling water in the mess hall and lugging it back to Rose Cabin over and over again. My arms are shaky from exertion by the time I’m done, but when I put my hand down into the half-filled tub, I nearly groan with pleasure. The water has cooled down enough that it doesn’t scald my skin, but it’s still hot enough to relieve my aching muscles after I strip off my clothes and step in.
I lather up my arms and legs then spend extra time on my hair, letting the conditioner sink in while I lie back and close my eyes. The scent of my floral body wash hangs heavy in the air. I could stay here forever, but I pry my eyes open and finish washing so I can reach for the paperback and rush to finish the last few pages. Before Ethan gets back, I’ll have to put it right back where I found it so he doesn’t know I’ve borrowed it all weekend.
My fingers and toes turn to prunes and the water cools another few degrees as I turn pages, hungry for resolution.
I’m so caught up in the fast-paced ending that I don’t notice the creak of the cabin stairs or the sound of the door opening. All I know is one minute, I’m alone in that cabin, reading, and the next, I glance up just as Ethan freezes in the doorway, staring straight at me in the tub.
I scream and his paperback flies out of my hand, landing in the water with a heavy thunk. My eyes widen and I don’t give a crap that I’m so exposed because I WAS TWO PAGES AWAY FROM FINISHING and now—NOW the book is sopping wet.
“No, no, no!” I scramble to pull it up out of the water and shake it quickly. Water flies into my eye, but who cares?!
I lurch over the side of the tub and lay the book out on my towel, patting it dry.
“I’m so, so sorry!”
I didn’t want him to know I read his book. Now not only does he know I read it without asking him, I’ve ruined it too.
The words bleed together and when I flip to the end, the thin pages rip clean from the binding, all but disintegrating in my hands.
“Jesus,” Ethan groans, stomping forward. “What are you going on about?” He yanks the towel out from underneath the book and throws it onto me.
Ah yes, I’m nude.
Oh so nude.
My eyes fly up to his, and he’s looking down at the book, his hands on his hips, his face pulled into tight angry lines.
“Sorry,” I mutter, though the word sounds weak and useless.
Chapter 17
Ethan
Let’s get one thing perfectly clear: I don’t give a shit about that book. I couldn’t recall the name of it right now if my life depended on it.
She’s going on and on about it as she stands up and wraps the towel around herself, and though she didn’t ask me to, I whip around and give her my back. I’d expect her to be embarrassed to have been caught naked in the tub. Instead, she keeps apologizing for ruining my book. Who cares about the book? I walked into the cabin, expecting to find it empty, and instead, I found Taylor, sitting there with her hot curves on full display. Instead of walking right back out the door like a gentleman and giving her privacy, I stood there dumbstruck, lost, utterly enraptured by a woman who is nothing short of a fantasy with her tantalizing breasts, narrow waist, and long wet hair.
I am so ridiculously hard right now, I’m actually glad Taylor is babbling about the book because if she weren’t, she’d realize I’m making a complete fool of myself.
I’ve seen naked women before!
I’ve had plenty of sex!
Good sex with hot women, and sure, it’s been a couple months, but I’ve been busy, and I’m good at taking care of my needs in the shower, with my hand, while picturing this very woman with her small hands wrapped around me and her wet hair tickling my chest. I jerk myself away from those thoughts as I realize Taylor is kneeling in her towel, flipping through the book.
“Don’t worry about it,” I insist, tone hard and clear.
She’s mumbling under her breath. “Borrowed it without as
king…ruined it…let me just see if I can dry it out and…”
She’s acting like I’m about to attack her for ruining my book. Is she really so scared of me?
I reach down and grab her bicep, easily lifting her up to her feet. Her skin is wet and warm. She keeps the towel closed with one hand and her big brown eyes find mine. She looks doe-eyed and innocent.
“The book doesn’t matter.”
“But you already hate me.”
I don’t refute that.
Right now, I hate what she’s doing to me. I hate how I’m reacting to her. There’s a lot of hate tangling with lust and it’s hard to separate one feeling from another. Maybe I do hate her. Or maybe it’s the exact opposite.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” she insists, nodding along with the idea. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do.”
I don’t point out that we’re about three hours from the nearest bookstore and I don’t think Amazon ships to cabins in the middle of the woods.
Her attention falls to my hand on her arm and I should drop it, but I don’t. Instead, my gaze moves over her, up from her bare feet and shapely calves right to the point where her white towel cuts across her bare thighs. A drop of water runs down them and I’m seconds from doing something very bad.
“You look deeply disapproving right now,” she says, actually sounding amused. “Like everything about me offends you.”
I try to relax my features, but it’s no use.
“Did you stay here all weekend?”
There’s a long pause before she replies diplomatically, “Will I get in trouble if I say yes?”
“I don’t know.”
Her eyes are suddenly lit with an inner twinkle of mischief. “Then…I don’t know.”
Paired with her long dark lashes and high cheekbones, her teasing words make it impossible to suppress the lazy smile spreading across my lips.
Her gaze catches there, and that’s the moment I step away and release her arm. I know what it looks like when a woman wants a man, and Taylor and I are not here in this cabin for that reason.
The warring emotions inside of me yank my heart in different directions as I head for the door.
“Let me know when you’re dressed,” I say gruffly, tugging a hand through my hair and slamming the door open harder than necessary. It bangs against the side of the cabin, the sound too loud and too sharp, making it look as if I can’t control my temper. I’ve never had an issue until now.
I sit on the top stair and train my eyes on the forest, cooling off, thinking of my grandma and baseball. When that doesn’t work, I think of my grandma playing baseball, and when Taylor walks out a few minutes later, I don’t even feel the effect she has on me. Not at all. Dressed in loose jeans and a t-shirt, she’s still barefoot. I’m looking at her pink-polished toes when she speaks up.
“I’ve decided to come back and sleep in the cabin. I know you won’t exactly love having me here, but I don’t really see another option unless there’s another vacant cabin somewhere else.”
I look back out along the trail, giving her my profile. “It’s fine.” I don’t ask where she’s been sleeping. Chances are, I won’t like the answer anyway. “However, I don’t want you staying here on the weekends again.”
It’s not safe for her to stay out here alone, not only from a liability standpoint for the company, but for her own wellbeing.
Still, she bristles at the brusque order, turns around, and heads right back into the cabin only to return a few minutes later with her shoes on and her damp hair thrown up in a ponytail. She brushes past me on the stairs without another word and walks down the trail back to camp.
When I stand and reenter the cabin, I’m met with a heavy scent of her body wash. It’s like the entire place has been steeped in it. On the window sill, propped up and fanned out to dry, sits my paperback. Below it, wildflowers sit in a bucket on the desk.
It suddenly hits me that I’m doing something I’ve never done before: living with a woman.
Of course I’ve had girlfriends stay over at my house in Austin and leave their things behind, a jacket here, an earring there. In my last relationship, we were together a few months. She wanted commitment and promises and a ten-year plan. I wanted nothing of the sort.
Suddenly, the tables are now flipped, and I know how it feels to want someone who seems just out of reach at all times.
Taylor is elusive and wild, a clever little cat. I couldn’t predict her next move if there were a million dollars on the line.
I’m glad she left when she did because otherwise, she’d see me right now, touching the flowers she picked with utter bewilderment, like I’ve never seen flowers before in my entire life. Because, the thing is, deep down, I’m not at all mad that she moved back into the cabin. I’ve wanted her here with me since the beginning. It’s why I had them assign bunkhouses in the first place.
* * *
After unpacking my clothes and getting prepared for the week ahead, I go on a long run. Taylor’s back in the cabin when I return, sitting up on the top bunk, cursing her phone before launching it halfway across the room. I reach out and catch it before it collides with the wall.
“Bad reception?” I ask with an arched brow.
Her cheeks are flushed with fury from having been caught during her little outburst of anger.
“Yes. This entire cabin is a dead zone—no, this entire camp! Sometimes I’m able to pick up a signal near the mess hall, but even that’s not reliable. How do you get service all the time?”
“Well for one, my cell phone is from this century,” I say, handing hers back. “And I also bought a signal booster. It’s necessary out here in the woods.”
Her eyes widen with approval. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”
My phone burns like a beacon across the room. I know what I should do in this moment. She’s obviously trying desperately to get in contact with someone.
She mistakes my hesitation for something it’s not. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask to borrow your phone. I know you don’t trust me, though it’s a little silly. What do you think I’m going to do? Hack into your bank accounts?” She groans and moves to the ladder. “You know what? I’ll just ask one of the guys to borrow—”
My phone hits her pillow and then I turn for the bathroom.
“I’m showering. You have until I’m finished.”
Truth be told, I actually don’t trust Taylor with my phone. Why would I? A month and a half ago, she stole my wallet and all the cash that was inside of it. I’d be a fool to think I could trust her. An absolute fool.
When I’m done showering, she’s still talking on my phone. I hear her laughter, light and carefree through the bathroom door.
“I miss you too,” she says sweetly. My stomach twists into a knot as I brush my teeth hunched over the sink, scowling like the grump she’s turned me into.
After I change into some lounge pants, I walk over and hold out my hand.
Her eyes lock with mine and she keeps talking.
I motion for her to hang up.
She holds up her finger and points to the phone, clearly hoping to continue her conversation.
I reach out, take the phone, and hang up. She can call her boyfriend back later, sometime when I’m not here listening to her flirt with him.
“Ever the gentleman,” she says with a snide glare.
“You’re welcome for allowing you to use my cell phone.”
She rolls her eyes and starts down the ladder. “You know I keep telling myself to take the high road, but with you I find it absolutely impossible. Why do you have to be so rude all the time? Are you like this with everyone in your life?”
“Just people who try to take advantage of others.”
My comment is very clearly referring to the time she took my wallet and we both know it. She grinds her teeth and is about to let out a string of words sure to send me into an equally annoyed rage, but then she turns on her heel, storms into the bathroom, and slams the door behind
her. The whole cabin shakes.
“I’d like to be reassigned to a new cabin!” she shouts through the wood. “If I’m going to have to deal with you all day, I need a break at night.”
“Too bad.”
“What?” she shouts.
I raise my voice so she can hear me through the door. “Too bad!”
The door flings open and she stands there with her toothbrush in her mouth, white suds foaming at the corners. “Why do you even want me in here with you anyway? I know you don’t like me any more than I like you.”
With the toothbrush in the way, her words come out warbled, but I still understand her perfectly.
“Keep your enemies close,” is the only response I deign to give her before I flop back on my bed. I’d grab my paperback and start reading, but, well, that’s not an option. Instead, I fold my hands behind my head and stare up at the bottom of her bunk.
She spits out her toothpaste in the sink, the faucet runs for a few seconds, and then she’s back out here. This cabin feels as confining as a jail cell when we’re both in it, like two caged animals.
My eyes go to her—as they always do when she enters a room—and I watch as she stalks over and leans down, her head dipping beneath the bunk. Her hair grazes my bare chest. Blood rushes south without my consent.
“Just to be clear, anything that happens in this cabin is outside of work. Is that clear? From dusk till dawn, I’ll be sweet and doting, will fulfill your every need—but when we’re in this cabin, don’t expect me to treat you like my boss.”
I can’t help the snide smirk that curls the edge of my mouth. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. As long as you’re on this property, I’m always your boss.”
Yes, Ethan, you’re always her boss, so stop trying to sneak glances down the top of her shirt.
She fists her hands by her sides, swallows whatever retort was forming on her tongue, and hurries up the ladder, apparently ready to be done with me.
