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Charlie drops my bags. I can feel his eyes on me as I rush around the room.
My entire body is feverish with joy.
Mine.
This cottage, this dreamy cottage, is mine for three wonderful months.
I’ve never had my own place before.
It feels like power.
Like freedom.
I love, love, love it.
I gasp again.
In the bedroom is a plush bed with a mountain of pillows, a colorful quilt, and a clawfoot tub. A desk is pushed up against the sliding glass door that overlooks a babbling creek.
“Who decorated this?” I flush when I realize how it sounds. “No offense.”
He chuckles. “I tried, but you’re right. My sister hired someone for me.”
I dip into the kitchen, peering through the window that overlooks Charlie’s cabin.
Charlie shifts in his boots, crosses and uncrosses his arms. “You can cook here, but seeing as how we didn’t stock up in town, all meals are served at the lodge. Guests can come and go.” He nods my way. “There’s a meal schedule on the fridge. Dinner’s at seven.”
“I love it, Charlie.” I join him in the living room. “But you didn’t have to do this. I would have been happy in a cabin.”
He clears his throat. “I just thought it fit you.”
Heat scalds my cheeks. I don’t know what to make of it, but I’ll take it.
“It’s too much,” I say. My lips pull high. “But I promise you, I’ll make you a kick-ass social media account.”
The corner of his mouth tugs up in an almost-smile. “It can’t get any worse.”
He holds my gaze, studying me with curiosity. Then, just as abruptly, his face hardens, his eyes fierce. “I ...should go.”
Charlie turns, smacking into the coat rack. With a growl, he steadies it and then steps onto the front porch. I go to the screen door and watch him stomp to his truck, drinking in the sight of his butt in those Wranglers. I offer a wave and a tentative smile as he drives away. My heart riots in my chest.
Looks like Charlie Montgomery’s my new boss.
The screen door swings open the second I lift the coffeepot off the burner. I groan. It’s too damn early for my brothers to come storming in here like cattle after the restless night’s sleep I had.
I pour myself a cup of coffee, roughing a hand through my hair.
I blame Ruby.
I laid awake all night wondering about shit I had no business wondering about. Like that look of sheer joy on her face when she saw the cottage. I may as well have handed her a diamond necklace. Her feeding Hungry Hank like she wasn’t afraid he’d chomp her goddamn hand off. That girl batting her lashes and strong-arming me into a summer job and me being the damn fool who said yes.
Hell, I had to.
There was no way I was letting her stay at the Yodeler.
“The barn better be on fire or someone better be injured,” I snarl at the approaching clomp of boots. “Fatally.”
“Hell, it’s better than anyone being fatally wounded,” Ford chortles, rounding the corner to steal my cup of coffee. After a long sip, he grimaces. “Christ, you make this like you’re trying to give me a heart attack.”
