But first things first.
I crept slowly out of bed. The wooden floorboards squeaked, trying to give me away as I went to the window that faced the front porch. The blackout curtains were drawn tight, save the alarm-clock crack on my face, but by standing at the edge, I could just barely get a glimpse of outside without moving the fabric and alerting him to my presence.
Watching from inside my house to the outside wasn't weird. I was sure there was an unwritten rule somewhere that would support that.
Levi was walking back toward his truck, parked a couple of feetfrom my porch. His jean-clad backside worked it on the steep incline as he bent and reached across the bed of his truck. Ripley trotted alongside him in a neon orange puffy vest. He slid a case of water out, walked it back to the porch, and dropped it next to a pile of other food, which explained all the sounds.
Food. He brought me food and supplies. My stomach celebrated by growling loudly.
“Enough out of you,” I said quietly, placing a hand to silence the rumblies in my tumblies. Why did my gut choose to advertise all my needs loudly?
Either I hadn’t been as horrifying as I thought, or I was so scary that he brought me food to keep me from accosting him or the other patrons in town.
A win was a win.
It was easier than thinking he did it out of kindness because that didn’t line up with the image he was trying to impress upon me. Even still, I couldn’t help the smile I had to bite back. When was the last time I was cared for besides by my father?
Levi’s head wasn’t covered today, and his deep brown hair looked freshly washed and pushed back off his forehead, reaching down to the hood of a sweatshirt—similar to the one he had on last night. What had he called it? A HuggieHoodie?
Freaking adorable.
Levi looked directly at the window where I stood a few feet away, protected by glass and blackout curtains. I stilled, worried I’d been thinking too loud. He couldn’t see me. There was no possible way. But my heart picked up its pace nonetheless, andI slowed my breathing. He stepped forward toward the stairs, a look of stern determination pinching his brows.
I glanced down to where I wore only a sleeping tank and panties and panicked. But just as he came forward, he stopped, spun around, and left again. Mirroring that conflicting behavior from last night. His mood had changed on a dime. It didn’t make sense. Neither did this sneaky early morning delivery. This time, I was fairly sure I hadn’t done anything weird. Yesterday, for sure. I had done the Classic Claire thing where I shared too much or put my foot in my mouth …
But no. This man was just confusing. He seemed simultaneously annoyed by my existence but also responsible for my survival.
Well, as a fellow introverted little weirdo, I couldn’t say I blamed him. And I was more than a little relieved when he left. I hadn’t even had coffee yet. I ended up working until well after midnight and then lay staring in the pitch-black cabin for a long time, unable to shut down my chatty brain despite my exhausted body. It was just so dang quiet out here, and my mind was so loud. No internet to check out with. No traffic to act as white noise.
Thoughts were very insistent when there was no way to block them out.
Caffeine was required before I drove into town to check in with Dad, let alone try to have a strained conversation with a total stranger. I could already feel that this once-a-day call to Dad wasn’t realistic. The town might only be ten miles away, but winding roads at a creeping pace meant at least an hour a day, ifnot more, lost to driving. I would need a better system.
Levi opened his truck door and gingerly lifted Ripley inside like the passenger princess she was. I rolled my eyes, which felt much more natural than acknowledging the little tug on the heartstrings that his gentle ministrations caused. Once they were almost down the driveway, I moved the curtains to the side to get a better view of everything he’d left.
“Cookies, yay!” I said.
I waited to open the front door until the truck traveled down the winding road, peeking through the trees until it was no longer visible. A cool blast of morning air helped wake me up as I went to the pile of stuff.
The scrawled note on top read, “Use as needed.”
“Chatty as ever.” I began lugging the stuff into the kitchen. “Mmm trail mix.” I was a kid at Christmas as I explored his booty.Thebooty. The provisions.
Not thinking about his booty.
He had gone out of his way for a guy who didn’t seem to want me here in the first place. His whole listing had been designed to be off-putting, but something in my personality with people like that made me want to poke them like a bear.
The brewing coffee made from the fresh grounds he provided smelled heavenly as I slid on some warm layers. I had no idea what to expect from the weather today. If only I had an ever-present bot listening at all times to ask the temperature. I wandered around the small space to the locked door off the kitchen and wiggled it just for funsies. Still locked. Based on thesize of the house, it had to be bigger than a closet. Maybe another bedroom? It was hard to say. The contents of that room called to me.
It might as well have been a bright red button that said, “DO NOT PRESS.”
I sighed and stepped away. I was restless and curious, a dangerous combination for me.
I stood in the kitchen, staring up at the main house, sipping my coffee. My mind drifted in a hundred different directions when I noticed the front door of the cabin was slightly ajar. Or at least it looked like it might be.
I perked up.
“Somebody should go close that,” I told myself aloud, hoping it might justify whatever I did next.
