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To him.
My body, though, it had a mind of its own. It damn near melted.
"You alright?" he asked, brows furrowing when, I imagined, I stood there, gap-mouthed, wide-eyed.
"I, ah, yeah. It's just been a long day," I told him, it being partly true.
"Yeah. That ride in was a bitch. Especially without the directions. It was a guessing game most of the way," he said, shrugging. "Come on. Let's check this place out. Then I will brave the threat of bears and cannibals to fetch your bags," he told me, holding an arm out, waiting for me to fall into step beside him.
I'd had more than my fair share of fantasies about Rush Rivers.
Not one of them included him touring a creepy woodland cottage with me.
I had no mental script prepared.
This was going to be a complete and utter disaster.TWORushI liked the outdoors.
Some of my favorite parts about being on the run with my siblings, hiding out after jobs, were all the places Kingston had managed to snag for us, usually in the middle of nowhere in rustic cabins while we recharged, planned our next moves.
After settling permanently in Navesink Bank, getting a job, setting up roots, spending time with my ever-growing family, I hadn't had time for things like going to the woods, enjoying the outdoors as much as I once had.
So when I got the invite from Fee about the retreat, I had pounced. Normally, the idea of a work retreat that would likely involve shit like trust-building exercises would have had me rolling my eyes, looking for any possible excuse not to go. But because of the location, and the fact that it was a free trip I was getting paid to go on, I saw no reason to miss out.
Besides, the work shit would likely only take a couple hours out of each day, leaving me free to wander around, enjoy the outdoors.
It was a sweet deal.
Traveling by plane had been a new experience for me. We'd always moved by car. And me, especially, I was the car guy. In particular, I had been the getaway car driver for the others in our old life. So planes had never been a part of my life before.
The next time I took a vacation, I promised myself it would be a road trip of some sort, giving me some much-missed time behind the wheel, seeing sights, going on my own schedule instead of along with one with hundreds of other people.
But, for now, this retreat would do.
I'd pulled up to find one car parked, not being overly surprised. I tended to be someone who got places early. The women I worked with were always perpetually on time or often late, rushing in talking about their kids or their spouses or running errands. Fee didn't exactly run a tight ship about things like that, so it wasn't unusual that the others had chosen to be on later flights to coincide with whatever they had on their schedules for the day.
Me, I always liked being early.
As did whoever had the rental car I parked beside.
Or it was a host or the owner of the lodge.
I was half-surprised to walk in and not be greeted.
But I followed the lights until I found Katie standing there in the kitchen, eyes wide, looking like she was ready to plunge the knife into my heart.
She was maybe the last person I expected to see there.
She'd never been at any of the events around the office. Not the Christmas parties or the times everyone went out for food and drinks.
Bookish, quiet, I figured she wasn't the social sort.
I guess I thought she would have come up with some excuse not to be with all of us for five days in the woods, away from all her creature comforts.
But there she was, ready to gut a mountain cannibal in her retro MTV t-shirt and big sweater that swallowed up her whole body.
She was a short and very slight thing, looking damn near breakable most days, with light brown hair, brown eyes, and oversized glasses on her soft-featured face.
I overheard Angela, one of the women at the office, refer to her as "mousy" before, which was a shitty comment both then and now, since it was clearly not meant as a compliment in any way.
One thing I learned about working with women was they could be catty as fuck even when they had no reason to be.
And there was no reason for the name-calling. Katie was cute in a very understated way. Actually, now that I was really looking at her—without her flitting around like she did at the office—it was actually fair to say she was pretty.
It was almost as though she covered up in baggy clothes and big glasses and by never staying still for a few moments as a way to somehow mask that fact about her.
