“I mean,” Jenna says. “I can’t let you sleep in your car.”
I stop, frozen in place, until the air finally rushes out of my lungs.
“Cabin Seven is in decent shape,” she continues. “It’s not one of the rentals. It used to be seasonal housing. It has running water and a bed.”
Relief hits me so hard I nearly double over. “Thank you. I can pay you, of course—”
“I can’t take your money,” Jenna says, waving off my hand. “If I do, it’s a rental, and then we’re both in trouble. Just... don’t worry about it.”
She looks toward the cabins, then back at me. “Bram’s usually not this anal, but he’s stressed. The whole place is stressed. I’ll handle him tomorrow. For tonight, just keep the lights low, close the curtains, and stay inside. Okay? Oh, and please park your car somewhere less conspicuous.”
I meet her eyes, my throat tight. “Thank you. Seriously. Thank you.”
She nods.
“Come on,” she says. “Let’s get you to the cabin before I remember I like having a job.”
***
The water pressure is almost non-existent, but at least, there’s hot water.
I stand under it face up, eyes closed, letting it wash the day away. The pipes shriek every time the temperature shifts, which is often, but between shrieks there are these stretches of perfect, scalding quiet where the water just hits my face and I do not think about anything.
I love it.
I don’t know how long I stay, but my fingers prune. The hot water thins to warm, then drops off a cliff into ice-cold.
I gasp, stepping back as the freezing spray hits my shoulder. I twist the faucet shut, my teeth chattering as I stand dripping in the stall, listening to the last of the water rattle down the drain.
I dry myself off quickly with a scratchy towel, throw it over the rod, and drag my suitcase onto the bed, digging through until I find a faded gray college T-shirt at the bottom. I pull it over my head, the cotton soft, and sit on the creaking mattress.
A yawn cracks my jaw wide and I lie down under the sheets.
Okay, nap time.Twenty minutes, then I’ll have to figure everything out for tom—
My eyes close before I finish the thought.
I wake up not knowing where I am for a good five seconds. Moonlight cuts across my suitcase. My brain buffers.
So that nap was not a nap.
I guess that’s what running from a wedding will do to you. That and a not-so-long previous night with a handsome stranger.
Ash. His mouth on my—
A flush of heat pools low in my stomach, and my thighs press together before I can stop them.
“Damn,” I whisper. “Seriously, body?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, but the dark only brings Ash back in flashes. The heavy slide of his hand down my spine, his tongue... his scent.
My omega purrs, a low, demanding vibration in my chest.
Really?I ask her.Now? We’re supposed to figure out what to do tomorr—
Alpha, alpha.
My omega, it seems, does not care about our predicament.
