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“Baking isn’t cooking. Cooking is forgiving. I add a little extra garlic and then it’s okay.”
“Flour, sugar, ginger, cinnamon, eggs.” She folds her arms against her chest.
I open the fridge and rummage through the cupboards. It’s not ideal to cook offsite, but given the storm, I don’t think Henry will put up a fuss about it. “I’m out of eggs, but we should have some by morning. The chickens are nice and warm in the hen house.”
The kettle sings and I pour hot water over two mugs that sit on the edge of the countertop with tea bags hanging loose. “Drink this and I’ll set you up in the bedroom for the night.” I hand her the hot cup of tea, holding her gaze for far too long.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a woman in my cabin. Suddenly, I’m self-conscious about everything. I should’ve thought this kidnapping through. Is this floor clean enough? Does it smell okay in here? It’s a little musty. I can’t remember the last time I did a good cleaning.
I glance away. It shouldn’t matter what it smells like. Grace is young, very young, but there’s nothing happening here other than a person looking out for another person. So, it doesn’t matter what she thinks of the cabin, or me, or this terrible tea.
Holding the hot mug in my hand, I turn to head down the hallway.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” She reaches out for me, her hand brushing my flannel covered arm before I get too far away.Why does it send a jolt of electricity straight through me?
“You’re my guest. You’re not sleeping on the couch. Besides, this thing is in terrible shape. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”
“But you’re going to sleep on it?”
I nod. “I’m the one who kidnapped you. I should at least offer you the bed.”
She laughs. “Akindkidnapper? How… progressive. Are you planning to take my breakfast order, too?”
“I was planning for bacon and eggs. Hopefully that works.” Before my gaze gets stuck again, I pace out of the room and into the back, where the bedroom isn’t much better than the rest of the house. I really need to get better at cleaning.
I toss the dirty laundry lying on the ground into the closet and tear the dirty sheets off the bed, replacing them with a fresh set. I’m not sure it helps much, but it already smells better in here.
“We should both sleep in the bed.” Her voice echoes in from behind me. “We’ve both been on our feet all day. Yes, you kidnapped me,” she smiles, “but I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing you were cramped up on that sofa.”
I glance back at her. Is this a test? Does she want to hear me say I won’t sleep next to her? Because on first blush, the idea sounds awfully spectacular.
“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not right. You should have the bed. I don’t mind the couch. Like I said—”
“I sat on the couch for twenty minutes and my back is killing me. I know you aren’t going to hurt me, Arnie. As barbaric as your approach is, I appreciate you looking out for me tonight. We don’t need to make this weird. It’s a bed.” She sits on the edge. “A big bed. I trust you.”
Given I’ve just lifted her onto my shoulder and driven her up the mountain, I’m not sure sheshouldtrust me, but she’s not wrong about the day. It’s been hellish and my feet are aching.
“I’ll grab you something to wear. Feel free to use anything else you need.”
She nods and stays sitting on the bed while I rummage through the closet for an extra flannel.
“You know what’s funny?” she says with a rise in her voice. “We’ve spent the last few weeks working together and you haven’t really told me about your life at all. I mean, I know you like to cook, how frustrated you get with a dirty fridge, and how you apparently like to keep women safe, but nothing personal about you. Tell me about therealyou.”
I spin back with a black checkered flannel, handing it to her. It’s a mistake. I know it the second her hand brushes mine. Seeing her curves swallowed up by my shirt is going to be torture, as if lying next to her wasn’t going to be difficult enough already. Though, I’m sure this is only one of the hundreds of mistakes I’m about to make. Either way, she needs something warm tonight. Even with the fire going, there’s still a draft in the cabin, especially with a blizzard blowing outside.
“Not much to tell.” I brush my hand over my beard. “I, ugh, I spent years in the military, met a girl, and got honorably discharged to be with her. But in the time it took for me to get my release, we had a falling out. We were too young to make the distance last. So, having no prospects and no relevant work experience, I got a job at the diner on Main and worked there until the lodge opened and the guys offered me a chef position.”
“And don’t forget about Jewel’s appearance.”
I smile and look down at the ground before glancing up again. “How could I ever forget that one? It’s not every day that a man is approached by an adult daughter that he never knew he had.”
She chuckles. “You never know. I mean, maybe you’ve got a lot of mystery kids running around out there. Jewel was born twenty-four years ago. There could be a whole team of mini-Arnie’s somewhere.”
I’m not sure I like the fact that she’s reminded me how close in age she is to my daughter, but I ignore that in favor of the other part of her statement. “Now that one I know for sure. Since the fallout with Jewel’s mom, I’ve been content to just live a peaceful life on my own. I haven’t really been looking.”
“Why not?” She stands and tugs her jeans down over her thick hips as though we’re two girls in a locker room. Maybe I should take this as a sign that we are. She doesn’t see me as someone she needs to cover up in front of. Then again, her t-shirt is long, covering her panties as her jeans slide to the floor. Maybe that’s why she isn’t fazed.
I should tell her it doesn’t matter. I’m still a sick old man who’s most certainly aroused. I turn away, closing off the darkness before it starts to eat me alive.
