Staying For You

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by Van Wyk, Jennifer


  From where I’m sitting in my car, I watch as Owen gets out of his pickup and moves around to unload his niece and nephew. When I first saw him at McDonald’s, I didn’t allow myself the time to really get a good look at him but now I can’t stop staring. There’s a really good reason women go gaga over a man with a baby in his arms — it’s like it triggers every single one of our erogenous zones and has them firing in tandem. Add in his killer smile and dark scruff, and kind hazel eyes, it’s enough to bring any jaded woman to her knees. Not that I’m jaded. At least not entirely. Sure, I’m leery about beginning a new relationship someday, but I also know that all men aren’t like Scott.

  Owen’s sexy and even more handsome than the men I write about in my romance novels. I’m absolutely positive there’s a better word to describe him, but he has my words all tied up at the moment. When we’d met an hour ago, I was exhausted from just having survived an eighteen-hour drive by myself. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’d split the drive up into three days because I wanted to give myself plenty of time to get to the town where Owen offered to meet me without stressing over whether or not I’d fall asleep while driving.

  The drive had been good for me, though. I spent the first four hours in complete silence, wanting the time to think. But then I started to go a little crazy, my mind playing tricks on me as I went through every what-if scenario possible.

  What if my broken marriage and cheating husband was actually my fault?

  What if what he said was true, that I was so focused on my career that I ignored him and pushed him into the arms of other women?

  What if I lost all the good words that I have in me and my stories are dried up?

  What if, what if, what if… it was an endless cycle. Eventually, I turned on the satellite radio and jammed out to my favorite classic rock. The second the sounds filtered through my speakers, it was as if a peace came over me that I’d long forgotten. Scott hated the guitar-driven sounds of the bands from the 70’s and 80’s, the soft, soothing rifts that calm me have always been my favorite.

  The first night, I found a hotel and ordered in room service. The second night I became brave. I saw someone on Instagram chronicle her travels where she stayed in her car or tents along her road trip. While I wasn’t quite as brave as she was with a tent, I found a small campground that was open in the winter months, booked a single night’s stay and backed my car into the small space. I wished I knew how to start a fire, however, figure that sleeping in my car while it’s running in the middle of a strange campground was a large enough baby step. I moved around all my belongings in the back of my SUV and made myself a bed and had an admittedly horrible night of sleep. I was a nervous wreck the entire night and figured out that it probably takes a little more planning for spontaneous campground stays than I’d originally thought.

  He pulls a car seat out of the pickup, walks to the front door, goes inside, and comes back a few moments later with empty arms. Slowly, he gets Brody out, his tiny little body cradled in Owen’s big arms. He spots me watching him and simply motions for me to follow him.

  “Right. Duh. I probably look like an idiot just sitting here watching him while he manages two babies on his own.”

  Unbuckling, I lift my purse off the passenger seat and get out of my warm car and into the frigid temperatures, grateful that I dressed in so many layers, including my Ugg boots. I’m also glad that I purchased the SUV instead of the two-seater car that Scott was urging me to drive. If I’d have been in that tiny thing, I’d have gotten stuck in the snowy back roads we took to get here.

  I follow him through the door and he turns his head and says quietly, “I’m going to lay him down quick then I’ll be right with you.”

  “Okay.”

  He grips the handle of the car seat that Issy is sleeping in and effortlessly carries them both up a set of stairs in the back of the lodge. I take the time alone to look around the large space. There’s a big stand up cooler like one you’d find in a gas station that’s filled with different soda, water, and juice on one side and food staples on the other. Milk, cheese, butter, eggs, and a few other items. Next to the cooler is a shelf that’s sparsely stocked with pantry and snack foods. Behind the long counter, there’s rows and rows of whatever it is people use when fishing. Nets and hooks among other things that I’ve never purchased or even touched in my life. I knew when I looked online that The Escape was on a large lake that was popular for fishing. Families as well as groups of fishermen stay up here and spend their days in fishing boats on the lake. My guess is during his busy months he keeps the lodge stocked with basic necessities for his guests.

  He has a gift shop on the other side of the lodge with t-shirts and hoodies hanging from racks to purchase. I make a mental note to check them out later because I’m a sucker for a good souvenir. An open room with a pool table, ping pong and foosball, which looks like a ton of fun if you had someone to play with. There’s even a big TV hanging from the wall with inviting leather sofas that I could see Gretchen and me curling up on to watch some chick flicks. In the corner nestled in front of a stone wall stands a large black stove with glass in the front. More dark chocolate brown leather furniture is all aimed in the direction of the wood burning stove with a unique wooden coffee table in the center. It looks custom made by hand and I move closer, wanting to see if it feels as smooth as it looks.

  “Sorry about that. I needed to get them settled into beds so they’d take good naps.” Owen’s voice comes from behind me and I spin around and pull my hand back like I was about to be caught touching something I wasn’t supposed to.

  He grins and adjusts the ball cap on his head even while holding a baby monitor. Wearing a blue plaid flannel shirt and jeans that look like he’s owned for several years, and a pair of well-worn brown work boots, he looks every bit of the sexy lumberjack I so often describe my heroes as. Only, something tells me there’s nothing about his attire that’s meant for anyone else’s benefit than his own.

  “No worries. I snooped around a bit. I like it. I bet when you have full cabins they appreciate the lodge and the little shop over there.”

  “I think so. I like to keep it stocked during the summer months especially. Most of my guests arrive and don’t plan to leave unless forced. Which is perfect. That’s my goal — for the guests to enjoy themselves enough that they don’t feel the need to be back in the middle of it all. Sorry that it’s pretty empty in here right now.” He gestures behind us where the store is. “I should have asked if there was anything you’d need before you got up here or at least stocked up better before you came.”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be good for a while. I took your advice and brought plenty of groceries so I’ll be okay for a few weeks or longer.”

  He nods, moving over to the counter I noticed when I first walked in. “Well, the kids’ parents will be arriving late tomorrow to pick them up so if you forgot anything, let me know and I’ll have them grab it for you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

  When he gets to the counter, he opens up a laptop and sets the baby monitor down.

  “You gave me all the information I needed when you filled out the online form I sent over, so now I just need to get your signature and scan your credit card. After that I’ll show you around.”

  “Sounds good.” I hand over my card, sign the printed out document he slides over, and he grabs three sets of keys, setting them next to the baby monitor.

  He staples a few pages together then files them away in a cabinet beneath the counter. “I have a few areas you can choose from and they’re open for eight weeks.” He shows me a map of the resort, which isn’t hard to follow but I appreciate the map anyway. He points to three cabins then another. “This one is reserved for a long weekend in six weeks. These here on the other side,” he points to the cabins that back up to the trees, “are all open for eight weeks also. So really, you have your pick. If you’d like to be farther away from the lodge or cl
oser, on the lakeside or against the tree line, it’s up to you.”

  “I think I’d like to look out onto the water.”

  He grins. “Yeah, it’s pretty, right?”

  “It is. Even in the winter.”

  “Nah. Especially in the winter. Just wait and see. I have a space heater I’ll bring over so you can sit on the screened-in deck and look out on the water. It’s incredible and helps you forget about life. Gives you a reset.”

  I can’t stop the sigh that escapes my throat. “That sounds wonderful.”

  “All right then. Follow me, you can pick which cabin you’d like along the way and then I’ll bring some wood down to you.”

  “Wood?”

  “Don’t worry. There’s a heater, too, but the fire will be nice.”

  I shake my hands in front of me. “Uh, I’m not sure who you think I am, but this city girl has no idea how to start a fire.”

  He turns his head to the side and narrows his eyes. “City girls know how to start fires.”

  I let out a breathy laugh and shake my head, eyes wide. “This one doesn’t.”

  He shrugs, coming around the counter and joining me. “No big deal. I’ll show you how to start one so you’ll know.”

  That’s it. No teasing me that I don’t know how to do something that comes so easy to him. Scott would have called me stupid or an idiot and grumbled about having to help.

  “Thank you. That’s very nice of you,” I whisper. He watches me closely then nods once.

  Owen picks up the baby monitor and the keys, opens the front door, and steps to the side. “After you.”

  My steps pause. Scott would have pushed through the door first and not cared if it slammed in my face rather than allow me to walk in front of him. Opening a door for me would have been too much effort. I hate that I gave that ass so many years of my life. I straighten my shoulders, determined that I won’t give him a second more. Not even in my thoughts.

  Chapter Three

  Owen

  There’s a reason this woman is here at The Escape and something tells me it’s because of the fact the wedding ring that so obviously once sat on her left hand based on the indentation I see, is now missing.

  I watch her closely in case she loses her footing as we trudge through the snowy ground to the lakeside cabins, stopping at the first one we come to. It’s impressive, really, to see how she maneuvers her way over the unstable ground that she’s made it clear she’s not used to, being a “city girl”, in her words.

  “Want to be this close to the lodge?” I ask. I know she mentioned that she needed to get away which tells me she needs and wants privacy so it’s possible she’ll want to be in the cabin the farthest away.

  “That might not be a bad idea, actually.” She bites her lip and looks around nervously.

  I shrug, trying to do my best to look relaxed even though her presence is causing every neuron in my body to fire. Is it neurons? Atoms? I have no idea and I’m really not sure why I’m worried about it right now. But it’s helping to keep me distracted from the way those leggings mold to her legs and the fruity scent of her shampoo I got a whiff of when I was standing next to her earlier. “Up to you, really. Let’s take a look inside, you can see the view and we can easily go into the others and check them out.”

  “Okay.”

  I unlock the door and push it open, allowing her to brush by me to go into the cabin. It’s been a while since I’ve been around a woman I wasn’t related to and her presence is making me notice everything I’ve been missing. The light brush of her arm against mine as she walks into the cabin. The faint scent of her perfume that tingles my senses. It’s flowery but not in a heavy way and even without knowing her, it somehow fits her. Not to mention her beauty. I made an effort not to pay close attention to it earlier, but once the kids were down for a nap, I only had her to focus on and I couldn’t stop my greedy eyes from taking in every beautiful — which deserves a second, maybe tenth mention — inch of her.

  She’s skittish, I know that much. I could see her surprise when I held the door open for her at the lodge, like she’d never been put first or taken care of before. I would also say she’s even a little frustrated or irritated because of the way I’ve seen her huff a few times or catch herself from speaking her mind — or maybe her truth. I also saw her check her phone when on the way down here after it alerted her of what I assume was a text and didn’t miss the eye roll that she gave and exasperated grumble: just leave me alone already.

  She’s my guest, and it’s not my job to fix whatever brought her here so I push her beauty and the fact that it’s been an incredibly long time since a woman has stirred up desire within me out of my mind. But it’s hard to ignore. Trying to be discreet as possible, I watch as she inspects the small quarters, wondering what she sees. What she’s used to.

  Just like the rest of my cabins, it’s decorated simply, basic, even. A plain dark blue couch and chair in the living area that faces a small fireplace, square wooden table and four chairs in the kitchen. The kitchen has everything she’ll need, though a lot of it is mismatched pieces. The bedroom has a queen-size bed, nightstand, and closet, the comforter admittedly one of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen in a flowery print that no doubt came straight from the 90’s. The cabin we’re standing in is one of the original cabins that was already here when I purchased the resort. I’ve focused on building new so I didn’t lose any places for guests to stay and will then backtrack and update the others to match the new cabins.

  There are a few rugs by the doors but the flooring is all linoleum. When guests stay here, they’re typically coming in from the lake after a long day of fishing. Not to mention how rocky and sandy the terrain is around the resort. I learned quickly that putting carpet on the floors might make for a slightly more comfortable stay if people want to walk around barefoot, but it’s a son of a bitch to keep clean and not worth the expense it takes.

  Cami peeks her head into the bathroom and looks around the small area. The tiled shower stall has a few cracks in it and a small seat in the corner. There’s a cabinet that holds extra towels, toilet paper, tissues, and a few cleaning supplies. The cabin she’s in is meant for just two people which means the cabin in general is a little smaller than some of the others that have two or three bedrooms. But there’s still plenty of room for her.

  She turns, looking around the space one more time before she nods her head, hands to her hips. Biting her bottom lip, she glances away from me quickly and spins on her heel.

  “You said there’s a deck so I can see the lake?”

  I scrunch my eyebrows at the question that seemed to come out of nowhere — especially considering that she would have seen the screened-in deck right when she walked in the room because it’s not as if the room is large enough to miss anything.

  “Yeah, it’s right there,” I tell her, pointing over her shoulder, even though she’s facing it now.

  I want to ask if she’s okay but fear over her response has me holding my tongue.

  Again, she nods, takes a step toward the deck, and looks back. “Can I go out?”

  Is she asking permission to go outside? How strange but… “Yes?” I try hard not to give her a strange look.

  She slides the glass door open and steps out, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill.

  I hear a squawk come from the baby monitor and look at it in my hand, waiting to see if one of the babies has woken up. Whoever it was, quieted right down so I step closer to Cami, joining her on the deck.

  “It’s beautiful,” she says quietly. “And, serene. I… well, I needed — need — this.”

  She doesn’t have to explain what she’s talking about. I understand completely. “Everyone does but few realize it.”

  “Yeah,” she agrees with a deep breath.

  She turns and looks at me, huge blue eyes full of sadness blink at me. “I want to stay here.”

  I kind of assumed we’d already established that, but I see t
hat she needs the confirmation.

  “Okay. I’ll show you how to start a fire after the kids wake up, bring down some wood and kindling. You feel comfortable driving your car down here to get it unloaded?”

  “I can handle it.”

  “I have no doubt, but if you’d like help, I’m here. I don’t mind.”

  She watches me closely. “That’s not a burden?” she asks. For some reason, I feel like she’s been made to feel like a burden before. Possibly the reason she’s here.

  “Not one bit. I promise you, I wouldn’t offer it if it was.”

  Her eyes close and her shoulders relax. I didn’t even realize that she’d been so tense until I see it now. “Well, then, sure. Thank you.”

  She digs in her pocket for her keys and hands them over to me while still looking out at the lake. I leave the cabin and walk back up the hill to her car, confused by her behavior. Part of me is glad she let me get her vehicle down here for her. It’s not exactly the easiest area to drive in the summer with the unsteady ground, but in the winter when it’s covered in snow and ice makes it that much trickier. Especially if you’re not used to the conditions.

  I press the button to unlock her car and climb in, having to readjust the seat so my knees aren’t against the steering wheel and drive down to her cabin. I notice a computer bag on her passenger seat as well as three paperback novels. The couple on the cover of the book on top of the stack are embracing one another, the man shirtless and looking like he makes a living in the gym. The woman’s hair is long, almost down to her butt and she’s tiny in the man’s arms.

  I know Olivia and Chloe both read a lot of romance books but they’re always on their e-readers. Is this what the covers are like? Then the name at the bottom catches my attention. Camilla Moore. She calls herself Cami but when she booked with me, she used her full name of Camilla.

 

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