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The moment I pulled my sweatshirt down my torso, I found I was wrong.
It wasn’t Jessa.
It also wasn’t Brooklynn, Hailee, or Blair.
It was Dakota, and I couldn’t remember a time I felt so surprised before.
“Dakota,” I said, noting just how adorable she looked.
She was bundled up from head to toe, her face the only part of her body that was exposed. She was wearing a puffer jacket and a pair of gloves. Her leggings were tucked into her snow boots, and a scarf was wrapped around her neck. The fur-lined hood from her jacket was pulled up over her head, forcing the long strands of straight hair forward and over her chest.
I hadn’t often felt an urge like I did, but at that moment, I struggled not to reach out to touch her hair. It looked unbelievably soft, and for a brief moment, all I could do was envision what it would be like to see the mass of hair spread out on one of the pillows on my bed.
Offering an expression that was filled with uncertainty, she returned, “Hi, Jack. I’m sorry to drop by like this, but I wanted to stop over and apologize.”
I didn’t know what I thought Dakota would say to me or what the reason for her visit was, but the idea that she would want to apologize to me for something never crossed my mind.
Opening the door, a bit wider to make space for her, I stepped back and urged, “Come inside.”
For a brief moment, Dakota hesitated. She glanced back in the direction of her cabin, a worried look marring her features, before she gave me a slight nod and stepped inside. She shifted to the side to allow me to close the door behind her, but once I did, she made no move to follow me deeper into the cabin.
“Come on in,” I suggested. “Would you like something to drink?”
Dakota didn’t move her feet. She shook her head and held up one hand in front of her body. “Oh, no. Thank you for offering, but I can’t stay.”
I couldn’t imagine what she could possibly have planned, considering she rarely left her cabin, and I hadn’t once seen a visitor stop by. Despite the questions I had about that, I didn’t draw any attention to it.
Instead, I moved back toward her and said, “Okay. Sure. So, what’s going on?”
She took in a deep breath as she loosened the scarf around her neck, allowing it to fall open. Though I knew I was fooling myself, I told myself it was her feeble attempt to cope with the feelings of attraction she felt to me. Her eyes roamed over my face, and she finally declared, “I’m sorry.”
Tipping my head to the side curiously, I asked, “For what?”
Dakota swallowed hard, and my eyes honed in on the delicate skin covering her slender throat. I could only force them back to her face when she started speaking. “My behavior the other day was unacceptable,” she started. “You stepped in during the most terrifying experience of my life and helped out. I should have been thanking you, and instead, when you showed up on my doorstep not even an hour later, I was rude.”
Wow.
I was impressed she was willing to apologize for how she reacted to me after what had happened. Of course, her doing that only served to make her more attractive.
“It’s okay,” I insisted, not wanting her to feel guilty for reacting the way she did to such a traumatic experience.
She shook her head again and asserted, “No, it’s not. I’d like to think that I might have reacted differently; however, just before you showed up, I received an unwanted phone call. I’m not trying to excuse my behavior, but that call sent me off the edge I was barely teetering on.”
I had a feeling something else had been going on when I stopped over. Now having her explanation, I was not only grateful to know that I didn’t have someone with a bad attitude living next door to me, but also that there might be hope for at least a friendly relationship with her.
“I appreciate the explanation and the apology,” I told her. “Is everything okay?”
“What?”
I jerked my chin up and clarified, “With the phone call you received. Are you okay now?”
There was an extended pause before she returned, “Yeah. Yeah, everything is fine.”
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.”
A strange look washed over her face, and I couldn’t stop myself from assuming there was something else on her mind.
When she made no move to speak about whatever it was, I asked, “I can’t help but feel like you’ve got something else you want to say to me.”
