Ethan scrolls through my phone, the blue light thrown across his features in the gloom. He’s got such a fierce look of concentration on his gorgeous face, I yearn to press pause on this whole nightmare of a journey and stare at him a while. He is, after all, my safe place.
His thick brows knit together, and he rubs a hand over his beard, looking every bit the rugged adventurer. Gosh, I swear right now, if I wasn’t so rattled I’d be totally aroused. I cannot wait to get to that cabin and finally have the time and space to have Ethan all to myself.
I cannot wait to switch off, and just—
“I can’t find it,” he whines, and the no-nonsense, sexy lumberjack thing he’s got going on fades a little.
I huff. “It should be the top message.” Hehasto find it. It’s not like I can pull over and find it myself.
The roads are gritted, but the lay-bys—which are few and far between—have been left completely to the elements. If I ventured off-road now, especially in this little thing, I doubt I’d ever get back on.
“It’s not … there’s no directions in there. The top message is all about this Juniper person. I dunno—”
“What?” He must be in my spam folder or something. “Babe, open the top message from Willow. Wil-low,” I repeat, more deliberately.
He swallows. “Thisisthe top message from Willow. It doesn’t say anything about where to turn, or what to look out for. It just says she’s sorry and—”
“Sorry?” I stiffen. “Sorry for what?” If she’s cancelled on us—
Ethan blunders on, “Um … Yeah, she says sorry she can’t be there … duuduuduu—” He scans the message. “Yeah. Her sisterJuniper will greet us at the—” He looks up and lurches forwards in his seat to point ahead of us. “There!”
“Huh?” Frantic, I scan the road, worried a deer is about to leap in front of us or something. “What?!”
“There!” he says again excitedly.
This time, my gaze follows the direction of his outstretched finger. “What is it?” I pad the brakes, completely mystified.
I blink helplessly into the swirling snowflakes, then—
“Oh my god!” I see it. “That’s their sign!” I slow us to a crawl and just about manage to turn in time, nearly knocking over their postbox—mailbox?—as I do so.
We made it. I beam. We bloody made it.
I sit back, my grip on the steering wheel loosening a touch for the first time in hours. I sniff back happy tears as we trundle down the snow-covered drive, wheels crunching on the frozen ground.
I gasp as it comes into view. All our dreams come true.
We pull up outside then stop to gaze up at the absolutely gorgeous, and fabulously festive, Holly Hill Cabin.
Ethan lets out a long, low whistle, and for a moment we both sit there with matching grins as strong as the December wind.
We made it.
The breathtaking, fairytale A-frame wooden lodge is adorned with crystal white lights and surrounded by fir trees laden with snow. Perched atop a cluster of stilts, a dozen or so steps lead up to the balcony, where a potted Christmas tree twinkles with its own set of blinking lights. A star as bright as if it had been plucked straight from the sky crowns the tree, illuminating the deck with an ethereal glow.
I can already picture us standing out there, leaning against that balustrade, mugs of steaming coffee cupped in our gloved hands as we take in the view.
The cabin windows reach up and up until they meet at the A’s peak and are lit with a homely orange glow, though we’re too low to see their base and what or who is behind them. Even through the snarling storm, the cabin is picture perfect like a postcard from Santa himself.
I can’t wait to get up there. To get inside. I bite my lip. I can’t wait to get started on our sexy couples getaway. I didn’t shave my legs for nothing.
I rake my gaze over Ethan’s fine self. Looks like Christmas is coming early, and I am definitely looking to get us both on the naughty list.
“You ready?” I ask him.
Ethan nods, taking my hand in his. “Let’s go.”
I light up. Bring on the festivities …
