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The fire had been terrifying and I feel like a complete fool for having accidentally starting it. Matt sure thinks I am, I cringe at the thought.
The muscular, chiseled man currently lying next to me had been somewhat scary in his rage last night, and I grimace. I know I deserved to be scolded but it’s not like I invited him here in the first place!
Suddenly, I feel some of my own pride returning, thinking about how condescending Matt had sounded last night when he yelled at me about the lighter fluid. Yes, the whole thing is my fault, I admit, but it’s not like he can just barge in here and yell at me. He made me feel like a petulant child.
“Oh,” I say softly aloud. I was like a child, not reading instructions and acting scared over a little rain.
Outside the window, thunder seems to roar in response. Okay, not just a little rain, but still, I was stupid. Heavy rain starts to fall again, and I shiver. I want to snuggle into Matt, to forget about fires and feelings and ex fiancés, but I can’t give in.
I need to get out of this bed.
Swiftly but softly, I pull my whole body at once from Matt’s strong hold and stand up next to the bed. Instinctively, I shudder against the frigid morning air, my whole body quickly growing cold without without his warmth beside me.
I look down at his sleeping figure. Matt is forty-five years old, but he’s no flabby couch potato. I take a moment to admire his shirtless form.
His whole body is a deep, natural bronze, and it’s obvious from his muscular physique that the man works out. Matt’s chest muscles are deeply defined, and his shoulders look even broader without a shirt to cover them. My eyes drift lower to his taut abs, and rest for just a moment on the trickle of hair that starts on his firm stomach and extends low toward his manhood. To my relief and disappointment, Matt is still wearing his pants from the night before, so my ogling comes to a stop.
Wow, he’s hot.
I shake my head at my bold thought and even bolder gawking.
He’s hot, he saved your life, and he’s your ex-fiancé’s dad.
Quietly, I make my way to the closet and grab some sweatpants and a sweater to slip over my shivering naked body. Just as silently, I tiptoe out of the room, determined to leave the sleeping man and my taboo thoughts behind me in the bedroom.
Slowly, so as not to make a sound on the creaky wooden floorboards, I head downstairs to survey the fire damage and figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do next, but the sight in the living room is humbling.
Even in the greyish, early morning light, I can tell that the fire ravaged the small cabin. The couch, chairs, and walls are covered in ash and soot, and deep burn marks scar the rug and floor.
Taking in the bleak image in front of me, I can’t help but get teary-eyed. My family’s cabin, so many memories, stories. It’s all ruined.
Determined not to cry, I turn away from the gloomy living room and head to the kitchen to make some coffee.
As I scoop the pre-ground coffee beans into the filter, my mind wanders back to the man sleeping upstairs. Mindlessly, I fill up the coffee pot with water and pour it into the maker.
What is he even doing here? I ask myself as I switch on the machine. Why did he come all this way?
I’m desperate to get rid of Matt, I tell myself sternly. I wanted time away from my life back in Blue Mountain, especially the drama surrounding my engagement.
But instead it just followed me up the mountain in the form of Marky’s dad.
I shake my head slowly. And yet that’s not the real reason I want Matt gone. No, the problem is, I liked waking up in his arms, pressed against his hot, muscular body. I wanted to run my hands up and down his firm chest, and to have him stroke me more through my thin bra.
Holy shit. I cannot keep thinking like this!
I grimace as I watch the coffee brew.
I want to know why Matt’s here, and then I want him to leave.
Telling myself that my feelings for Matt and about the situation are resolved, I pull out a coffee mug from the cupboard. And for the next several minutes, I do my best and try to stop imagining what would have happened if I’d stayed in bed with Matt instead of coming downstairs.
12
Matt
The smell of coffee drifting through the house stirs me from a pleasant dream and I grunt softly, wanting to remain in the fantasy.
In the dream, I’d been kissing Cora on the back of the neck while she made pancakes for us to have for breakfast. Her belly was round with a baby and another little one was sitting in a chair nearby, banging the tray table while beaming at his parents.
