And here I thought my biggest challenge after all these years would be finding the damn place.
The front door is locked when I try to open it, then I remember the lawyer saying something about mailing me the key by the end of the week. Thankfully, Jack kept the spare where his dad always hid it, hanging on a screw hook between two porch railings. I’m acutely aware of Norah’s presence behind me as I unlock the door and step inside the pitch-black cabin.
I reach into my pocket for my phone to use as a flashlight, just as Norah slips past me into the darkness.
“Wait,” I tell her, “I’ve got a light—”
There’s a click followed by a warm glow from a tabletop lamp. The last time I was here, the place didn’t even have electricity. I take in the unfamiliar furnishings, the leather couch and stone fireplace, the oak dining table and stainless-steel appliances in the kitchen alcove.
Well, I’ll be damned. Jack’s obviously made some improvements over the years.
Norah lays her backpack onto the dining table and unloads her groceries, making herself at home. That’s because she is home, I remind myself. This place might be in my name, but I’m willing to bet she’s been coming here all her life. I move into the living area, taking my time to study all the new furniture a bit more closely. Some of it looks handmade, like the coffee table with little fawns and fox pups carved into the legs.
Pulling the curtain back to reveal a sliding-glass, door, I flip the nearby light switch and peer out at the back porch. There’s a semicircle of chairs surrounding a metal fire pit, and a covered hot tub wedged into the corner. I don’t know what I expected to find once I got here, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.
“Jesus,” I say to myself. “When the hell did Jack do all this?”
“It wasn’t always this nice,” Norah says. My muscles go taut. I’m not expecting her to be standing right behind me. “He worked on it little by little, over the years.” Turning to face her, I’m once again struck by how beautiful she is. Full cheeks and green eyes, a heart-shaped face. My gaze centers on her mouth a second too long. My cock aches.
“Look,” I say, putting some distance between us, “I’m sorry about what happened on the way up here. I was a dick. Let’s just try to forget about it, okay?”
“Sure, okay.” She folds her arms in front of her, creating a shelf for those tits I have no business looking at now that I know who she is. I move around the cabin opening windows to let in fresh air. The downstairs bedroom is exactly where I remember it, across from the only bathroom.
“Does the loft still have beds?” I ask Norah without looking at her.
“A futon,” she says. “It’s actually pretty comfy.”
“Good. I’ll take the loft. You can sleep in here.”
"Wow, gee, thanks so much for letting me sleep in my parents’ old bed.” Her gaze hardens. “Can I ask you something?” She doesn’t wait for my go-ahead. “My dad’s been bringing me to this cabin every summer since I was born. Why did he leave it to you?”
“I honestly have no fucking idea.” While I can remember a time when this place felt like a second home, it doesn’t feel like mine anymore. I should give it back to her family, transfer it to Jack’s widow for a dollar she never has to pay and be done with it.
“Did you know my dad?” Norah asks. “Are you like, long-lost brothers or something?”
“We were friends,” I say, and thank god for that, considering what she tried to do to me in the truck, and the way I scared her.
She seems to consider this, her stare wandering over my face. “My dad said he and his best friend used to come here all the time when they were kids. But if you were such good friends, then why haven’t I met you before?”
“People grow up and apart.” I debate whether or not I should go into detail. Figures Jack would choose to leave the less-flattering facts about his youth out of the narrative. But ultimately, I decide against enlightening her about her dad’s seedy past. The man died two weeks ago. This cabin is probably the place she feels closest to him now that he’s gone.
From the anger in her eyes, it’s obvious Norah hasn’t begun to process the loss. But that doesn’t change the fact that this is now my cabin. She can spend the night, but she can’t stay here. It wouldn’t be right.
“Tomorrow, you can call your mom to come and get you. Or see if you can find an Uber. I’ll drive you into town if they won’t pick you up here.”
Her brow knits. “You’re kicking me out of my own house?”
I brace myself for another battle. “I know this place feels like your home, but right now, it isn’t. You seem like a nice person, but you and I barely know each other.”
She closes the distance between us, laying both hands on my chest. “So, let’s get to know each other.”
I know fear when I see it. She’s trying to hide it behind forced desire, but it’s plain as day on her face. This isn’t about attraction. She’s running from something.
“Not interested.” I remove her hands. “Like I said, I’ve had a long day, so unless you want to tell me what’s really going on, come tomorrow, you’re going to have to find somewhere else to camp.”
“Nothing’s going on.” She backs away, holding her own hands. “I just miss my dad.”
“If you can miss him here, you can miss him at home.” I sigh, struggling to keep my cool. My patience for liars is thin on a good day, and today’s been just about the worst. “It’s obvious you’re running from something, Norah. Now you can either tell me what it is, or plan to get the hell out of my cabin."
"It's not your cabin."
"According to your dad's will, it is.” I don’t realize I’ve walked her back against a wall until I’m close enough to press my hand to the wood. “You don’t owe me all your secrets, sweetheart, but you can’t expect me to let you stay if you don’t tell me what kind of trouble you’re in.”
I can see her thoughts churning behind her eyes. She’s cooking up something, and I’m willing to bet it’s not a pot of truth. I cup her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze.
"Whatever you do, little girl, do not lie to me. Or I'll toss you out on your ass tonight.”
She glowers at me for a long, hard moment, until finally, her composure breaks. I feel her jaw slacken against my palm. "My ex-boyfriend is looking for me."
My whole body goes taut. “Bad break up?”
She almost chuckles, then nods.
I should’ve guessed it. Why else would she be so damn determined to stay off the grid? I let go of her chin and give her space, knowing the awful answer before I’ve even asked the question.
"He hurt you?"
She closes her eyes, takes a breath. “The word hurt doesn’t begin to describe what that asshole did to me.”
The next time she looks at me, I don’t just see the ballsy teenager with the green eyes. I see the little girl she once was, black dress and bare feet on the grass. I’ve never wanted to protect another person so fiercely. I’ve also never wanted to kill someone so intensely. But I swear, I could beat her ex-boyfriend to death.