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What if itwasher?
What if she was destined to fail repeatedly at everything she did, and this was just another long line of failures? That’s what Davy and Mike said back home, that she was letting them down. She’d been dumped by Shawn, got fired from her job, was ruining her sister’s life, and was pretty much a bad luck charm for the entire world.
Jake Ortega was just going to end up miserable around her.
“Can we put him in another cabin… maybe with his friend when he arrives? Please? I don’t want to stay with him,” Lena asked painfully, her voice full of tears, and she felt Jill tense.
Lena turned slowly, pulling away from the woman who had been hugging her, already aware that Jake was standing there and had heard her request. It was like something out of a nightmare that you couldn’t escape from.
“I didn’t mean it like that…” she whispered.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jake muttered angrily – and walked off.
“Take him the sandwich, y’all retreat to your corners, and I’ll talk with my husband about shuffling everyone around,” Jill said – only for Houghton to shake his head ‘no’ at her.
Lena accepted the foil-wrapped sandwich and felt almost brittle right now, realizing that the new guy probably thought she hated him, too. They had done nothing but fight this entire time, and just when she thought there might be an olive branch between them?
… One of them lit that branch on fire with napalm and a blowtorch.
Donning her coat, she stepped out of the house, clutching the precious sandwich for him -her olive branch- and prepared to have it destroyed once more as she left to find the wounded man and return to the cabin that she shared with him.
The snow crunched beneath her feet as ice formed over the top, making it a little slippery. She was glad it was only two inches, or it would truly be a mess. Between the moonlight and the glistening snow, the world was illuminated with a beauty that hid all of the turbulent pain going on right now in this particular corner of the world.
Opening the door, she heard the shower running in the distance and felt her cheeks heat up in awareness. This place was her haven, her home. She loved two long strands of tiny fairy lights around the room that twinkled and gave off a soft warm glow. Everything about the cabin was designed to be warm, welcoming, comforting, and now it felt different.
Romantic.
Putting the sandwich in the fridge, she made some hot mint tea to help settle his stomach as she fished out two of the tiny ceramic cups from the cupboard and then hesitated.
He was right, she realized there was indeed only the one bed. This made no sense. Why would she be staying in a cabin with a man she barely knew with only one bed? The property had three tiny cabins on it, and she never questioned the arrangement before, but she was questioning everything now.
The loft.
One bed.
Jake had zeroed in on it immediately, but she was so distracted with the handsome man before her and his arrogant attitude that it didn’t actually hit her until just now. They were both staying in a place, alone, a 12 x 12 tiny cabin that was functional for one person…but two?
She heard the water turn off, and his heavy sigh that echoed off the walls of the tiny home – only to see him step out a moment later wearing a white T-shirt and sweatpants. His hair was wet and messy; there was still droplets on him, and she could see the confusion combined with pain in his eyes.
“How’s your stomach?” she said softly.
“Fine.”
“Would you like some mint tea?”
“Does it have rat poison in it?”
“Should it?” she replied, but there wasn’t a bite to her words, but more of a question as she glanced at him… and saw his shoulders sag.
“No,” he muttered. “Tea, huh?”
“It helps calm my nerves and can help with nausea.”
“You know what else helps with nausea?” he bit out quietly. “Not puking when you have broken ribs.”
“Are you all right? Do you need help binding them?”
“Just wanna get me out of my clothing, huh? You could have come back there and washed…” Jake stopped – and nodded. “I’m sorry. I am a complete smart aleck with a mouth that goes faster than my brain. I could use an extra set of hands if you aren’t grossed out by my scars.”
