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Heath shifted uncomfortably, still holding the door and all her things. “Think I did, luv.” His eyes met hers. Intense. Serious. But not haunted in the way they’d been when he’d first flung open the door. Filled with something else. And he’d called herlove.Her cheeks suddenly flushed with heat—
“I promise Copper and I’ll stay out of your hair. And first thing in the morning, we’ll be on our way. You won’t even know we were here.”
He acted like he didn’t hear her. “Come on in.”
Copper took the invitation first and bounded inside, as if he had no memory of growling at Heath earlier. She took a breath to steel herself and accidentally inhaled Heath’s woodsy and warm scent as she squeezed past him into the cottage, lugging the duffle bag packed with Copper’s supplies. Dang the man smelledgood. There were lots of one-night stands based on less than a bit of chivalry, generic pet names, and nice cologne. Which was a totally inappropriate thought. She pushed it out of her head. A revenge fling had a distinct appeal—it had been eight months since she’d so much as held Zach’s hand—but no. Definitely not. She wasn’t going to inflict her hurt on someone else and make things worse in the process.
The cottage wasn’t at all what she expected. Instead of a messy man cave with overstuffed leather furniture and blank walls, she stepped into a living room that was tasteful and simple, the back wall lined with French doors. There was a clean-lined couch-and-chaise, an armchair and ottoman, and a matching wood coffee table and TV console both of which looked like something crafted by an artisan. There wasn’t a single knick-knack or a colour-pop pillow or throw blanket that a woman’s house would one hundred percent have. There also wasn’t even a hint of a holiday decoration, though the front windows were practically begging for a Christmas tree.
“Wow. This is really nice.” If it had been an AirBnb she’d rented, she would’ve been thrilled. If it had been the house she was going to move into—not going there. “Minimalist.”
Heath didn’t say anything. Just closed the front door, laid Copper’s bed on the floor below the air conditioning vent, and moved across the room, disappearing with her suitcase through a doorway on the other side.
She set down the duffle bag that held Copper’s favourite crinkly bunny toy, his leash, his bowls, his treats, and his food while her dog flopped down onto Heath’s patterned rug, rolling on his back and making the weird grunting/growling noise that usually made her laugh.
Heath came back out from wherever he’d gone, a scowl on his face.
“I’m sorry about him.” She pointed at Copper. “He loves a good roll. If you’ve got a vacuum—” Ugh. She’d never felt so uncomfortable and awkward in her life.
“The dog’s fine.” Heath sounded just as gruff as ever, and her resolve wavered. She could be in for the most painfully strained night of her life, and she felt rooted to the spot just inside the door.
“You need anything else out of the car?” Heath had let out a barking huff that sounded like involuntary surprise when he’d opened her trunk and seen her three large suitcases crammed inside. He hadn’t said anything about the hodgepodge of bags and clothes packed around the cooler and the dog crate in the back seat.
“Nope! The pink bag has all my essentials!” She made her voice as bright and cheerful as possible. She belonged here. She was supposed to be here. Heath hadinvitedher. Still she was rooted in place.
“You waiting for a tour or something?” He was so blunt, it disarmed her.
“Well… Yeah. That’d be nice?”
“You can see it all from here.” Heath pointed to the couch. “Lounge room.” He pointed towards the arched entryway through which there were dark green cabinets visible. “Kitchen and breakfast nook through there. Bathroom too—door’s on the left.” Then he made a half turn back towards where he’d taken her suitcase. “Bedroom’s in there. And the other door to the bathroom.”
Her stomach twisted in the same gymnastic move it had perfected on the drive through town. There was only one bedroom. His bedroom. Where he’d taken her stuff. “Um. I don’t… I can sleep on the couch.” No way was she sleeping in his bedroom. Especially if he was going to be in there. If that’s what he was expecting—
“Nah.” He must’ve seen some tweak of her expression, or read a tiny twist of her body, because his eyes found hers. “It’ll be me sleeping on the couch. Bed’s for you.”
Just like that, the heat in her cheeks was back, and this time it spread through her entire body. She felt pierced, like he reallysawher—but that didn’t make any sense. They didn’t know each other. At all.
He jerked his head towards the French doors, breaking their gaze. “Or I can sleep outside and you can have the whole place to yourself.”
“No.” The word popped out of her mouth like a reflex. Being alone in the cottage she’d thought she was going to be sharing with Zach sounded like a recipe for spending the night sobbing. What she wanted was a distraction, and when he wasn’t scowling or barging through doors—heck, even when he was—Heath was exactly that. Saying he was nice to look at was an understatement. But he’d also brought her ice water. Called the caravan park. Carried her luggage. Maybe he’d only done that last to show off his muscles, but he didn’t give off that vibe. Plus he’d put a shirt on when he’d disappeared inside, which seemed to rule out showing off, though, she had to admit, the clingy grey t-shirt only accentuated his broad shoulders and well-defined biceps. Not to mention the tattoo that snaked around his upper arm and peeked out from his sleeve, which might as well be a sexy come-hither and check this out statement. Combined with the unshaven scruff, strong jaw, and straight nose, he seemed like the total package. She hadn’t really let herself dwell on it before, but the guy was hot. And judging from the one car outside, the sparseness of his place, the absence of any couple photos, the guy was single.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. A rebound fling was not happening. “You don’t need to sleep outside. I trust you.” As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t. Heath’s whole expression suddenly closed as if she’d somehow insulted him. He turned away from her and stalked towards the kitchen.
“Something to eat?”
“That’d be great, but if it’s too much trouble, I’ve got snacks in my car—”
“Nah. It’s no trouble.” The way he said it made it sound like it was, though.
While she fed Copper and filled his water dish, Heath pulled together a basic meal—just for her—telling her to sit when she offered to help. “You said you were tired.”
She sat, startled into immediate compliance by the fact that he’d actually paid attention to her emotional ramble. The little round table in the breakfast nook matched the coffee table and console in the living room—oozing handmade craftsmanship in its carefully laid planks. They barely spoke more than it took for him to ask about her basic preferences: gluten-free or regular, tomato sauce or pesto, fizzy water or tap water or beer, vinaigrette or ranch. He set the plate down in front of her, stopped to let Copper sniff his hand from his place behind Lena’s chair, and then Heath disappeared, which was quite a feat in a cottage so small. By the time she’d finished eating and rinsed her dishes in the sink, he’d made up the couch with sheets and was stretched across it, a book in his hand.
“I’m turning in early. Bathroom’s all yours. There’s a deadbolt if you want to lock the door from the kitchen. Help yourself to anything. Remote for the TV is on the dresser. And the bed’s made up too—for you and the dog.” He rolled over and turned his back to her before she could thank him.
The fact he’d known Copper would sleep with her did something to the way she thought of him, like a kaleidoscope piece had fallen into place and changed the picture, just a little more. Then the image clicked to something new all over again when he reached to turn off the floor lamp and she saw he’d left a light on in the bedroom for her. He was thoughtful and kind, beneath all the strong-and-silent stuff.
Just before she closed the bedroom door, he called out to her.
