by Alexa Ross
“Sure, but who’s to say you aren’t the next famous writer, or guitarist, or artist from Vermont?” Kenzie teased.
Bryce shrugged. “I have better things to do with my time.”
“Oh, and what on earth could you possibly do that’s more important than writing the next great American novel?” Kenzie asked.
“Well, today at least, I’m busy flirting with a pretty girl. And tomorrow, who knows? Something always comes up.” He eyed her, causing her to blush. The tension between them increased dramatically, making the air thick. Kenzie was unable to speak. She crossed her legs tightly for the remainder of the drive, listening to the ’40s crooner and thinking about Bryce’s words. He’d acknowledged he was attracted to her. He’d pushed them over the line.
Despite feeling absolutely terrified, Kenzie hadn’t been more thrilled in her life.
Bryce parked the truck in front of his cabin, nudging the tires through the tracks they’d created a few hours before. The cabin looked warm and cozy hidden beneath a canopy of snow-covered trees. Kenzie turned her boots toward the door, wondering if this was the end of their night together. Would she sleep on the couch? Would he give her the bed?
They removed their coats, looking like smaller shadows of their former winter selves. Bryce poured them each another glass of wine and plopped a few more logs on the fire. His hair was mussed from his winter hat. Kenzie attempted to flatten it, pushing it against his forehead, but it spiked back up again, causing her to laugh.
“Don’t bother,” he said, collapsing on the couch by the fire. He tapped the seat beside him, gazing into her eyes. His own blue ones twinkled with the light from the crackling flames.
Feeling nervous, Kenzie sat beside him, tucking herself deep into the cushions and not allowing their legs to touch. She sipped her wine, coziness folding over her.
“There’s nothing quite like coming in from the snow and sitting by the fire,” she said, breaking the heavy silence.
Bryce turned toward her in silent agreement. His lips were mere inches from hers. She sensed he wanted to kiss her, but she jolted back slightly, suddenly conscious that if she did kiss him, if she allowed this to happen, she’d have to leave him eventually. She’d have to return to her life in Concord. She’d have to forget about yet another guy. The mere thought of it made her feel exhausted.
Bryce turned away from her. He sighed evenly. His voice was crackly, tired. “Do you want to hear a few more local legends from around here?” he asked, still trying to engage her.
“Of course,” she said.
“My favorite’s about this very cabin,” Bryce said. “They say a husband and wife built it in the ’30s.”
“They? Who comes up with these legends,” Kenzie said, laughing, grateful that the tension was lessening. She sipped her wine and gazed at his handsome face, eternally conscious of her attraction to him.
“Just the bored townspeople, I guess,” Bryce said. “After the husband and wife built it, strange things began to happen around here. Their dog disappeared first. Not an entirely strange thing to happen in the forest, but it set them on edge. So they got another dog, to protect them. But then that dog went missing as well.”
“Shoot. Bad luck,” Kenzie said.
“Right. The house kept breaking down as well. The porch cracked off from the rest of the house. A part of the living room burned up, because the husband didn’t pay good enough attention to the fire. The wife grew increasingly depressed and jittery, thinking something else was going to crop up and ruin them.”
“And I’m guessing, since this is a legend, something did?” Kenzie said, chortling good-naturedly.
“Of course,” Bryce said. “One day, she came home and her husband had disappeared. In his place was a tiny dwarf, who’d apparently been living in a nearby tree and watching everything that had happened to the house. He’d seen the fire. He’d watched their dogs get taken. And he told her, this woman, that he’d had enough, and she needed to stop.”
“What?” Kenzie asked, her eyes wide.
“Turns out the woman was a witch but didn’t know it. She’d run her dogs out of the house because of her inner demons. And she’d taken her husband from the house, tied him in ropes, and tossed him into the very lake we just skated on.”
“And she didn’t remember any of it?” Kenzie asked.
“That’s the legend. After the dwarf told her the truth, he assumed she would unite with him. They could rule the forest, he told her. But the woman was so horrified by what she’d done, she immediately went mad. She morphed from a beautiful, 20-something woman into an old hag. And she did, ultimately, rule the forest, as nobody would come near her, knowing what she’d done.”
Kenzie smirked. “Sounds eerily similar to every old legend out of Germany and France from hundreds of years ago.”
“You can doubt it if you want,” he said, shrugging. “But when I bought this cabin, it was only a few grand, and nobody would come show me where it was. I had to find it for myself.”
“I see. So you chose this place so you could be totally isolated.”
“I assumed everyone thought this old place was still ruled by the witch,” Bryce said, laughing. “You’d be surprised how superstitious everyone is around here. The town and these mountains reek of loneliness. The people are bored with their lives, and they go crazy.”
“And it hasn’t happened to you yet?” Kenzie asked, her eyelashes fluttering. “You haven’t gone crazy?”
“Since you’re asking, I think I might be right on the verge of crazy,” he whispered. He turned toward her, his nose just an inch away from hers. His breath was hot on her chin, causing her to shiver. His smell filled her nose. “You’re incredibly beautiful, Kenzie,” he whispered.
Unable to resist him a moment longer, Kenzie leaned toward him and brought her lips to his. Immediately, adrenaline pulsed within her, and every cell in her seemed to sizzle with anticipation. They broke the kiss after several moments, each of them breathing heavily with desire.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Bryce asked, lifting his hand to the back of her head and smoothing it against her hair.
“I’ve wanted to since I met you,” Kenzie whispered back, catching his lips with hers once more. She slid her tongue against his, shivering, and then wrapped her arms around his thick neck, kneading his muscled shoulders beneath his jean jacket.
They continued to kiss on the couch for several minutes, Kenzie drawing herself up onto Bryce’s lap. She closed her eyes, feeling the lick of the fire at her legs, lust fueling her every movement.
Finally, after Kenzie felt she couldn’t stand it another moment, Bryce lifted her from his lap and carried her toward his bedroom. He grinned at her. “Be careful,” he whispered. “I heard this is the room the witch still haunts.”
“Ha. You know I don’t believe in such silly stories.”
“Shh. Did you hear that?” Bryce whispered, his eyebrows rising high on his forehead. “I think I heard her cackling.”
Kenzie smacked his chest, giggling. “Don’t.”
Bryce sealed the silence with a kiss and then draped her on his bed. The comforter was flannel and cozy beneath her, and the mattress enveloped her. Kenzie wrapped her arms around Bryce’s neck and kissed his lips, feeling the scratchiness of his beard upon her chin. As they kissed, they grew more insistent, needier, more passionate.
After several minutes more, Kenzie brought her hands to Bryce’s jean jacket, which was covered in many patches. As Kenzie removed the jacket from his body, forcing his strong, pulsing muscles from the sleeves, one of the patches burst from the top of the sleeve, landing near Kenzie’s face on the pillow. Without thinking about it, she lifted the soft patch and placed it upon the nightstand, out of their way. Her eyes were totally, blissfully on Bryce, who leaned toward her and began unbuttoning her clothing, revealing her stunning, glowing torso to the sliver of moonlight that peeked in through the window.
They made love there upon the comfo
rter, deep into the night in the cozy cabin. Outside, the temperature continued to drop until the sun saved them, slipping up over the horizon to light the snow below. Kenzie and Bryce collapsed beneath the sheets, dripping with sweat and happy to hold the other close. They fell asleep, Kenzie’s face tucked close to Bryce’s neck and Bryce’s strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close.
They slept dreamlessly, finding solace from all nightmares, as if this—the life they were living—was the only dream they desired. It was as if Kenzie would never have to awaken and return to Concord, New Hampshire, where her life would continue its downtrodden nature. It was as if Bryce never had to wake up and return to his lonely existence, chopping and burning wood and shoveling snow and brooding about his mysterious past, off into infinity.
It was as if they were made for each other, living a legend of their own.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kenzie awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming over the flannel comforter. She blinked several times, unable to remember where she was. But soon the memories came flooding back into her brain, bringing with them the warm emotions she felt for Bryce. When she’d first slept with Austin, she’d felt naked, exposed in front of him, as if he were grading her appearance and judging her angles, her body, her form. But with Bryce, she’d fit perfectly, her pillowy breasts comfortable against his taut pectoral muscles.
Turning onto her side, naked beneath the sheets, Kenzie realized she was alone in the bed. She heard light tapping from the kitchen. Bryce had probably been awake for hours, meandering quietly through the house and building the fire back up, perhaps chopping wood outside the cabin.
Kenzie emerged from beneath the sheets, sitting up in bed. She blinked around her, assessing the bedroom in the light. It was nondescript, without much personality, much like the rest of the cabin. Bryce was committed to living as simply as possible, which meant she’d never glean anything of his past from his décor. She sighed, turning her attention to her bruised ankles, which were ruined from her sloppy skating the previous night.
As she sat in silence, she felt the tug of New Hampshire. She knew she had to be back at work, that her bills were piling up and her bank account was dwindling—especially now that Austin wasn’t going to help her with the rent. She tipped her head back, knocking it against the wooden headboard.
“Shit,” she whispered. Her soul felt stretched thin, exhausted. She couldn’t imagine facing the office, not after she’d experienced such magic, tucked away in the Vermont mountains.
Suddenly, she smelled bacon sizzling in the kitchen. She lifted her legs and flung them over the side of the bed, gazing down at her naked toes. She knew if she stayed for breakfast, she wouldn’t be able to resist staying with Bryce another day. And then another. Eventually, he would grow tired of her, as Austin had. It was best that she just leave immediately.
Her clothes were flung all over the room from their raucous lovemaking. She grinned at the memory as she stood, bringing her underwear over her thin legs. She shivered, searching for her pants. She snapped them into place, grateful her food baby from the wine and massive dinner had disappeared. Clinging to her sweater, she hunted for her bra, her breasts bouncing lightly as she walked.
Where had he flung it? Kenzie hunkered down onto her knees and peered under the bed, blinking several times to grow accustomed to the darkness. She ran her arm beneath it, hunting for a bra strap. Instead, her fingers traced a firm binder with what felt like photo pages inside. An album?
Suddenly alert, Kenzie put both hands beneath the bed and drew the album out into the light, her heart beating rapidly. Out in the kitchen, she heard Bryce place several dishes in the sink with a clatter. The moment she heard his footsteps come toward her, she’d have time to shove the album back under the bed, unnoticed.
Just a quick peek, then.
She opened the photo album gingerly, knowing she was opening a kind of Pandora’s box. This was Bryce’s past, which he so desperately hid. Yet he kept a vessel of his past directly under where he slept.
The first photo felt like a slap. She stared at it, feeling as if she were seeing a ghost. The photo was of a family, snuggled close together beneath a colorful tree in New England. There was a man, a woman, and a baby. The baby was giggling, his eyes scrunched together in surprise from the flash of the camera.
The woman, who held the baby, was extremely beautiful, with long, wavy blond hair, reddened cheeks from the autumn wind, and a chunky scarf wrapped loosely at her neck. The man beside her looked incredibly like Bryce, only without a beard.
Kenzie stared at the man, incredulous, placing her finger delicately over the plastic cover. It was him. It had to be. He was a bit younger, perhaps 24 years old, and didn’t yet have the muscles or staunch masculinity of his current 30 years. But his smile was firm, confident, showing the joy and love he held for his family, for his wife.
Kenzie shivered, snapping the photo album shut. Her mind sizzled with questions. Did Bryce have a wife and child he was hiding from her? Where did they live? Had he left them, just as her father had left her? If Bryce had been 24 in the photo, that meant the child was around six or seven, and had probably long forgotten his father.
Had they lived in this very cabin? Had there once been a cradle in the corner of the room, a baby inside? Had Bryce once woken up early to make his wife breakfast and coffee, working dutifully with love?
Kenzie slipped the photo album beneath the bed, forgetting all about her bra. As she sat upon her knees, she heard Bryce’s footsteps behind the door. Immediately, she leaped up and dove beneath the sheets, her pants on and her shirt off. She feigned sleep, wanting to make Bryce think she hadn’t been leafing around his room. Her cheeks were red, showing her lie.
Bryce didn’t notice. He peeked in, smiling at her the moment he saw her head lifting up from the pillow.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said.
“Hey,” Kenzie whispered, her voice cracking. She couldn’t help it; her heart leaped the moment she saw him. Their bodies were still linked from the night before. “You been awake a while?”
“Only about three hours.” Bryce laughed, rubbing at his bearded jawline. “I can’t help it. I rise with the sun.”
“You are a mountain man. I suppose that’s your way,” Kenzie said, sitting up and keeping her breasts covered. She stared at his face, at the contentment displayed there, and wondered about the monster lying beneath. Who was his wife? When had he left her? Why had she left him? What was lurking in his past?
“I’m making breakfast,” he said, breaking the silence and gesturing toward the kitchen. “Bacon, eggs, coffee. I figured you’d be hungry after ice skating last night.”
“I have bruises up and down my ankles,” Kenzie said, trying to avoid answering. “Quite a treacherous life you live up here.”
“You’ll get used to it, if you skate often enough,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “I can make up a plate for you while you get dressed? Do you need clothes to borrow?”
Kenzie shook her head, sadness making her mouth turn down. “I should go,” she whispered. She felt reluctant, as if she were making the wrong choice. But faced with demanding the truth from Bryce or returning to her simple Concord life, she would return. She would take the easy route. She couldn’t allow herself to get her heart broken. Not again.
“Oh,” Bryce said, disappointed. “I thought you said your boss was giving you more time.”
“I know. But I thought about it, and I think it’s better if I go back. Face my problems. Make some money,” Kenzie said. She looked downtrodden. Her shoulders slumped forward.
“I see.” Bryce took a step back. “Well. I’ll give you some privacy.” He closed the door, leaving Kenzie in silence.
Quickly, anxiety fueling her, Kenzie slipped her arms into her sweater. In a moment of nostalgia, she lifted the small jean jacket patch from the side table without really looking at it and tucked it into her pocket, knowing she’d want the memento later: proof that she�
��d actually been here, had actually felt things for him.
Without lingering long, she flung herself to the door, gathering her things from the small cabin living space. Bryce had placed the now-cooked bacon and eggs to the side, still in their skillet, uneaten. He sat at the table, watching her scramble to go. Kenzie wondered if she was bringing back memories of a previous breakup, one he’d never be upfront with her about.
She stood at the doorway, gazing at him. She wore her coat, her boots. They hadn’t spoken since she’d informed him she was planning to leave. She felt the desire to tell him she was sorry. Old clichés formed in her head. Sometimes things didn’t work out, and there was no explanation.
“Well. It’s been fun,” Bryce said, standing tall. He stretched his muscled legs toward her and wrapped her in a friendly hug. They both understood this would be their last. Her skin sizzled as she touched him. Then she pulled back, gave him a final smile, and opened the door.
