One
Alexi
I’m not saying I have the hardest job in the world to perform post-breakup, I’m just saying…it sucks.
I get paid to make up stories about pretend people in pretend situations finding pretend happily-ever-afters together.
Operative word: pretend.
Is that what I had with Mark all along? Were we just playing pretend?
I wasn’t.
He was.
That much was obvious. From what I could tell, I don’t think he was just “playing pretend” with his secretary at their splashy office holiday party last week.
I’d been invited, but I was kissing a deadline—three entire chapters due to my editor by midnight. By some Christmas Miracle I got it done, with time to spare. Enough time to show up at Marky’s party as a surprise.
The surprise was all mine, when I walked into his office to find Cindy with her perfect little dancer’s thighs wrapped around his—
No. Bad Alexi, bad! We’re not going to dwell, remember? Not anymore. This solo trip to the mountains isn’t a pity-party. I have work to do. Words to get down.
So many words…
Going into the land of make-believe with a wounded heart is a lot harder than I thought it could be. I love my job as a romance writer, I do. My heroines are all made up of pieces of me. I fall in love with my heroes. My stories are an escape for my readers.
And torture for me, these last few days.
I pull up to the cabin I reserved for me. It’s so inviting I can’t help but smile. It’s tiny, a single-story cedar-log cabin with a bright red door and a picture window. A strand of colorful Christmas lights and dusting of snow on the roof give me all the holiday feels I’d been robbed of last week.
It’s so serene, you’d never guess there’s a storm in the forecast tonight. Except for a trail of boot prints up the steps to the front door, the bright white snow is untouched all around. Hmm…the owner must have come by earlier to make sure it’s ready.
I take comfort in knowing I’ll be safe here when the storm passes through.
I grab my backpack and laptop bag and step out, inhaling a deep breath of the crisp, clean mountain air. Something about the high altitude just hits the lungs differently. Instant healing.
A few fat ice-cold raindrops begin to fall. Adding to the total charm. This is what the doctor ordered. A beautiful, distraction-free place, alone, to get my head and fingers back in gear. I’m already picturing a dreamy scene as I walk up the three steps.
Something tells me that on the other side of that red door, I am going to find my muse, too.
I go in, and muddy boot prints by the front door greet me first. I scowl at them dirtying the gorgeous hardwood, but I temper the instinct to promise and knock off a star in my review when I leave this place in three days. I can be forgiving, I’ll just sweep it up. No big deal.
At least it smells good in here, earthy, and woodsy, and a little like soap and clean male sweat. Mm…yum.
I set down my things. The pitter-patter of falling rain grows louder outside as I look around. It’s one big room, with a full-sized bed and a couch, a breakfast nook and TV. On the other side of the kitchenette is a door to the bathroom, I presume, and past that is a set of quaint French doors leading out to a private deck.
It’s all very cozy and sweet, except for the dirty coffee cup in the sink. Wranglers slung over a kitchen chair. Boots, dirty ones, taking up residence next to the bed.
With hands on my hips, I walk past the bathroom door. The rain gets heavier then, and I realize that’s not rain at all. That’s the shower. Someone is in here…in my shower!
Oh, hell no. I’ve had enough surprises to last the rest of this year and all of the next. I put my ear to the door. He’s even humming a tune in there!
The nerve!
Without a second thought I twist the doorknob and step in, momentarily distracted by all the homey moose- and bear-patterned décor. Even the shower curtain hooks are embellished with little rustic brown moose heads. My eyes fall to the handmade-looking mountain-themed shower curtain.
Remembering my mission, I steel my breath, and fling open the shower curtain.
And my eyes become moons.
Speaking of moon…there’s an actual living Adonis in here, his backside to me. He’s not even aware of my presence. I should say something, right?
I gulp a swallow. My eyes rove upward, over his broad, ropey shoulders, then down again, taking in his sleek, strong spine, smooth and bronze until, low on his narrow hips, a tan line abruptly ends.
There’s staring, and then there’s staring. My mouth waters as I just stand here, speechless.
Adonis finally turns around, not even trying to cover that proud, heavy sex of his, as he sees me. “Hey there, beautiful creature.”
I cut my gaze up to his face. Holy hot handsomeness… I probe way down deep to find my voice. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
Unaffected, or maybe he’s crazy, he just keeps washing that amazing rock-hard bod, his dark eyes trained on mine as he angles his back into the spray of the showerhead. Soapy water sluices off the most perfectly round butt cheeks I’ve ever seen in real life.
“What’s it look like?” He chuckles.
“You’re in my shower!”
“Your shower?” He pulls a face. “Don’t think so, kitten. I booked this cabin last week.”
“You’re wrong,” I say weakly. “I booked this cabin two days ago and—” I swallow dryly as he continues lathering like I’m not even here.
“You want to join?”
Do I want to join? Ugh! This man! “No I don’t to join you, you pervert!” I cross my arms over my chest. My feet are rooted in place as if I don’t necessarily want to leave this bathroom, either. “I want you to get out.”
“Almost done here, kitten. Then I’ll make us a pot of coffee and we’ll sort this whole thing out, how’s that sound?”
I make a frowny face at him, as every muscle in his body twinges as he lathers, from his worked-out arms to his washboard abs…all…the way…down to this calves, giving me a glimpse of his package as he scrubs his ankles and feet.
“Um,” I croak, then clear my throat. “You’re not staying.”
“Storm’ll be here any minute,” he says, looking over at me with a proud, proud smirk. “Afraid I don’t much have a choice.”
We trade a beat of tense quiet, then I huff a sigh and storm out of the bathroom. That was vexatious, and delightful, at the same time. I picture those big arms wrapped around me and—
Shoot. I didn’t come here to find a man; I came here to make my editor happy by finishing this dang novel on time.
It’s really too bad.
She’s gonna be pissed.
James
I feel like a jerk. ‘You want to join?’ What a shit thing to say to a young woman who was obviously not expecting to see me taking up residence in her shower.
I’ve no doubt she thinks it’s really hers. Wouldn’t be the first time my nana made a mistake in the booking app. Nana owns this cabin and two others, turned them into vacation rentals. She’s double-booked twice before. Both times, she proudly tells people, the two parties-of-one ended up hitting it off and eventually, getting married. Silver lining, I guess.