Damn, she is gorgeous. But it's obvious that Petula is, at minimum, a decade younger than me. I'm probably just an old man in her eyes.
"I'm making you breakfast," she declares with a yawn.
"You don't have to do that."
"Yes, I do. I just slept in your bed while you clearly had trouble sleeping on the couch," she says, opening the fridge.
"Do I look that bad?" I quip.
Petula peeks over the refrigerator door, giving me a smile that wakes my cock up.
"Sorry. No. I didn't mean it like that. But it's clear you did not get the best of sleep."
Minutes later, she is frying up bacon and whisking eggs in a bowl. When she's ready, Petula sits down at the table, placing a plate in front of me.
"This smells delicious," I say, ready to dig in.
We sit in silence for a moment before my voluptuous guest asks, "So what do you do?"
"I'm in logging."
"Oh, that explains the look," she blurts out with a giggle. "You do have quite the lumberjack vibe about you."
Rubbing my thick beard, I grin at her. "I guess you could say I'm the quintessential mountain man."
Her smile makes my stomach flip as I try to focus on the food in front of me. After a moment, I clear my throat and say, "So, uh, why were you in a wedding dress?"
I watch as Petula's pale cheeks redden, but she doesn't look away from me. Instead, she smiles shyly and says, "Let's just say I made a smart choice to leave a bad situation."
"Oh, so that's why you were in Vegas."
"Actually, I live in Vegas," she says, clearly not impressed with her own words.
"Really? On purpose?" I quip, and she bursts out laughing.
"Yes. On purpose. Although once I check out my aunt's place, I am mulling over maybe making a change."
"Oh, really? Are you going to come join the mountain life with me?"
I feel my neck heat. Slow down there, Romeo, you barely know her. Never mind the fact that you clearly have several years on her.
"I'm thinking about it. I can work anywhere, so I think a change is definitely in my future. And here I am now with a cabin that's all mine."
"You can work anywhere? What do you do?"
"I'm a book cover artist, specifically for fantasy."
"Oh, really? I like fantasy. I've read all ofGame of Thrones."
"Me too. Love that series. Well, specifically, the first three books. In every reread, I still fervently wish that the Red Wedding won't happen this time around."
I snort and nod. "I can see why."
After breakfast, Petula insists on washing the dishes. When she's finished, we notice that the snow has slowed down immensely.
"Hey, I have a friend who plows up here. I'll see if he's able to dig us out before dark," I say.
"Oh, that's great. Thank you. You've been super kind to let me stay here, but I do feel bad."
