“That’s where my brothers and I would go when we were in high school.” He points at a big wooden campground sign as we pass. “It’s where Graham got so spooked, he gave up camping entirely. It was just a coyote, but?—”
He catches me watching him, probably with giant hearts popping out of my eyes. “What?”
I squeeze his hand. “You’re cute.”
He seems satisfied with that, lifting my hand to kiss it. Let me correct myself: cute and romantic.
“This is it.” He slows to turn onto an unremarkable access road with a few mailboxes set off from the highway. It’s paved, but I suspect it’s only a matter of time before we hit gravel.
“How long has your family had the cabin?” Everyone raved about it so much, it was clear they all have special memories around it.
“My parents bought it when we were little. We never did luxury vacations or week-long roadtrips, but we’d come out here every weekend we could and just get away for a while.”
“Kind of reminds me of your cabin.”
His mouth tips down. “I haven’t made my place as comfortable as this.”
“You still could.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Maybe I could.”
After a couple of miles, he turns onto another road. I knew it. Gravel. But it’s well maintained, with thick pine trees and sprawling bushes growing right up to the edge of the drive. A logA-frame cabin comes into view, nestled among the trees. Adirondack chairs and a porch swing sit out front—along with Nathan, who’s lounging in one of the chairs with his feet up on the porch rail. He waves as we park next to the other cars.
Reed sighs. “Fair warning, he’s going to be insufferable.”
I lift his hand and kiss him back. “I can take it.”
Except I might not be able to take it. I climb out of the Bronco, and cold air smacks me like a fist. Reed told me to be prepared for cold temperatures, but I thought he meantsummercold. Not “time to go apple picking and bake pumpkin pies” cold.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I circle to where he’s got the back of the Bronco open, pulling out our bags.
“I don’t think my thin hoodie’s going to cut it up here.” My T-shirt and shorts were fine in Sunshine, but I wish I’d brought multiple layers of fleece.
He unzips his backpack and pulls out a dark green sweatshirt. I just make outMount Hoodon the front before he passes it to me. “This should help.”
I slide my arms into it and tug it over my head. It’s still warm from the car ride, but I’m going to imagine it’s his body warmth staving off the chill. Also, it smells incredible. I don’t even care that I’m huffing deodorant. I’m obsessed with it.
“What about you?” He’s not wearing any more layers than I was.
He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to my mouth. “I brought extra.”
That warms me up as well as the sweatshirt does.
We grab our things and head up to the house, where Nathan’s smirking at us. It’s a bit how I imagine people must have looked when they watched our viral video.
Reed opens the front door for me, shooting his brother a glare. “Not a word.”
Nathan raises a hand to his heart, but as soon as Reed turns away, he gives me a thumbs up. He’s adorable. I’ll take the encouragement.
Inside, exposed logs make up the cabin’s walls until they meet in the middle of the vaulted ceiling. Sun shines in through a big window in the upper level, deceptively bright for its lack of warmth up here. The front of the house has a small kitchen where most of Reed’s family has gathered, and a big dining table. Three cozy-looking couches take up most of the rest of the space around the wood-burning stove in one corner. It’s homey and unpretentious, exactly what I would have imagined for them after seeing their house.
Upstairs, there’s a loft with a railing where Jovie’s grinning down at us. “You made it!”
Her shriek alerts everyone in the kitchen to turn around and greet us. Sara, Russ, and Lucy offer me welcome hugs, quickly followed by a loving attack from Jovie.
“You’re right on time,” Sara tells us. “We’re just about ready to get dinner on.”
“Right.” Reed pulls something out of a reusable tote he brought. “Shredded cheese, as requested.”
