I grab a few days’ worth of clothes, leaving the rest because I know I won’t be at Lance’s for that long. I’m not sure why the idea of being at his cabin makes me excited but also extremely nervous. It’s different—more intimate, maybe? It’s his safe place. It’s where he goes every night after getting off work at the bar, where he cooks dinner and does normal things, and now, I’m going to be there with him.Alone.
Walking over to my nightstand, I grab my phone and Kindle and send a glare toward my vibrator, something I don’t dare take with me. My hand will have to do if I need a release that badly. There is no way in hell I’m risking getting caught red-handed with that thing again.
When I come back out to the living room, Lance is sitting on the couch, his boots propped up on the coffee table as he reads some book on the side table. He looks up the moment I step out.
“Ready?” he asks, standing.
“Yup.” Nodding my head, I watch as he stalks towards the door, holding it open for me.
The cold winter air hits me right in the face, and I pull my jacket closed, as if that’s going to do much. Lifting my bag higheron my shoulder, I go to step off the snow-covered steps, but before I can, my bag is being pulled from my shoulder, making me almost lose my footing.
“I’ll carry it,” he huffs out, his mood drastically different than the man who barged into my room and dangled my vibrator above my head.
We walk to his car, and he pulls the passenger side door open for me, making sure I’m buckled before rounding the car and getting in his side. The drive to his house isn’t long, but it’s quiet. I wish I knew what he was thinking. It’s not like I asked him to stay at my cabin last night. I figured he left after making sure I was okay. Instead, he stayed. A part of me wants to ask why, but I’m not sure he would even say anything to me.
I glance over at him and see his elbow resting against the door, his hand covering his mouth, the other on the steering wheel as he looks straight ahead.
“Did I do something to make you mad? If you don’t want me in your space, I understand. I don’t mind staying at the cabin until they can get the power line back up. There was firewood still. I would’ve been fine, Lance,” I tell him, and he lets out a deep sigh, making me wish I would’ve fought him more back at the cabin.
“No. I’m not mad, Kallie. Why in the hell would I allow you to stay in a cabin without power in the middle of a snowstorm? It’s fine. It’s only for a few days,” he says, basically shutting down the conversation.
I avert my gaze from the forbidden man next to me and watch out the window as we pass endless rows of trees until we pull up to his cabin.
“Come on. Let’s get inside where it’s warm, sunshine.”
Chapter Seven
Kallie
Lance’s cabin is exactlyhow it was the first time I came here years ago, aside from a few upgrades. The scent of pine and wood smoke fills the air, mingling with the aroma that is Lance. The only thing missing is anything Christmas-related.
An old leather armchair sits by the window—a perfect spot to curl up with a book and watch the world go by. Rugged wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, adding to the cabin’s rustic charm. On one side of the room sits a dining table with matching chairs, the kitchen off to the right.
This place just screams Lance. It’s not too big, just enough for him. I glance around before Lance tosses my bag on the couch and heads towards the kitchen.
“Want some coffee? I could only assume you’re tired,” he mumbles just as I let out a long yawn. Lance looks back at me with a raised brow and a smirk on his face.
I cross the threshold of the kitchen and nod my head, ignoring his comment.
“I like what you’ve done with the kitchen,” I comment, taking in the rustic lights hanging over the kitchen island and all the things that seem new. New fridge, dishwasher—and I only know that because my dad asked me for my opinion before they bought it.
“Yeah, well, the place needed a few upgrades.” He looks back at me and winks.
He pulls out the cream from the fridge before putting a splash into a white cup with “Mountain men do it better” on the side. He hands it to me, and I can’t help but laugh. I instantly cover my mouth, but the laughter doesn’t die down.
“Yeah, laugh it up. It was a gift from your dad.” Lance takes a sip of his coffee after he lets out a chuckle of his own. My laughter dries up at mention of my dad.
“Sure it was,” I tease, taking a sip of my own. A moan slips through my lips, and Lance’s eyes shoot to me, somehow now darker. Clearing my throat, I set the cup down on his wooden countertop.
“The coffee is perfect, thank you.” I know my face is probably beet red right now.
Which seems to be the new normal, I guess.
Lance tells me to sit and relax as he cooks something for breakfast. I wanted to help, but he told me it was okay and he would take care of it. Now, I’m sitting in the chair next to the window, Kindle in hand, as I pretend to read a book.
Instead of focusing on the book, though, I watch as Lance moves effortlessly around his kitchen. The light from the stove cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting his strong jawline andthe subtle lines that hint at his age. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing toned forearms flexing with each movement.
There’s a cocky type of confidence in the way he does things. His hands move with purpose, chopping and mixing what he needs, and that makes me want those hands on me instead. The thought of his hands in my hair, roaming over my exposed skin, sends a wave of desire through me. I press my thighs together, trying to dull the throbbing now building between them.
